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Are Ghanaians romantic?
THE question has often been asked whether Ghanaians are romantic or not? The question has never been properly put, because the average Ghanaian might be a romantic legend outdoors but a total disaster indoors.
It means he can function romantically when people are looking, but under the cover of darkness and behind closed doors, he can only stumble and fall.
Indeed, in public, some people do express and even choreograph their love and affection for their partners. Immediately they get indoors, they are a changed personality. They start frowning because they cannot put up any good show.
The reverse is also true. So, the question should be properly asked with all the parameters of disaster carefully identified. And are Ghanaian men more romantic than the women?
From observation, one can identify culture as one of the limiting factors that have suppressed female romanticism. For example, when a female proposes love or even hints that she loves a man, the first impression people get is that she must be a ‘spoilt’ person.
Lesson
So, a girl in love will never allow her boyfriend to hold her hand in public. Never! And if he is foolhardy enough to kiss her, she’ll either scream to the high heavens, or simply slap him on the face to teach him a crude lesson.
You’ll think such a girl is the reincarnation of the Virgin Mary, the personification of what is pure, prim, unadulterated and adorable. It is only when you manage to get her behind closed doors that you are likely to see the real stuff she is made of.
She’d teach you the rudiments of love and romantic tit-bits you never dreamt about. She’d show you what to do and what not to do, and how to do what you should do. In the end, you’d never be the same. Check it out!
When it comes to female romanticism, there are many factors coming into play. Some Ghanaian ladies are not suited for romance because they see the world in terms of making a living rather than pandering to the pleasures of life. So, to them, to be romantic is a bother. It is a job too difficult to undertake.
They cannot even smile, let alone laugh. They see a smile as a frivolity, a laugh as the beginning of madness. What they keep thinking about is how to work for money.
Back-hand
To such persons, any suggestion of love or romance can get them poised to deliver a back-hand blow if it really comes to it. And if they ever make the mistake of getting married, the man is certain to die young. How can he cope with such a character?
When it comes to Ghanaian men, it can be worse. The problem is that the average Ghanaian man cannot give any quantitative or qualitative meaning to romance. He sees love either as a ‘head-ache’ because partners won’t stop demanding money, or as ‘sex’ because beyond it there is nothing else.
So, he enters into a relationship with a certain mindset, that is to give his lover money and demand sex in exchange. So where does romance come in? If by chance he decides to be a trifle bit romantic and gets his lover a birthday card, he is likely to get a rebuff if not a snob. “Ibi card I go chop?” the lady would ask him.
The typical Ghanaian lady wants cash and you are giving her a card. She would wonder whether you are off! Mental!
So, the men are either not encouraged by their mates to be romantic, or they themselves are not romantic by nature. They can’t see how they can buy a bar of chocolate as a surprise for their darlings.
It isn’t that they can’t afford it. They just don’t think it makes any sense. They might as well learn from Indians. Indians know exactly how to consummate a love relationship by incorporating music and dance, poetry and lyrical effort into the exercise.
All these are portrayed in their films. A boy and girl in love in India, need space and time to express that love. They can even refuse food for three days and remain on a mountain range singing and dancing for love.
The premium on romantic love is high. No wonder they have a relatively lower divorce rate. Which man in Ghana will forgo his fufu or banku for three days and go singing to a girl who is likely to break his heart in a fortnight?
Simulation
In any case, some Ghanaian men have learnt over time to be romantic, for the sake of it, and not because they think it matters. They read books and watch films and simulate from them.
Others travel and come back quite different. They even walk romantically if they happen to fall in love. That is what they’ve learnt in the cold. Certainly, it makes sense to be romantic in cold weather than in the hot African sun.
This article was first published on Saturday March 25, 2006
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Attention-Deficit or Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD) is often mistaken for laziness or indiscipline. In consulting rooms across Accra and in reports from school teachers, the pattern repeats: children who are bright but forgetful, parents who feel helpless, teachers who see incompleteness.
Research is clear-Barkley (2015) and others describe ADHD as a difference in the brain’s regulation of alertness, impulse and working memory, not a lack of effort.
The family’s role begins with structure. Regular sleep, predictable meal and homework times, and a simple visual list (uniform → books → water → corridor) provide the external scaffolding of these children need. Praise what is completed—“You opened the book and wrote the first sentence”-instead of rebuking what is missing.
Schools can help by seating the child front-row and centre, giving short written plus verbal instructions, allowing brief movement breaks, using quiet nonverbal cues and, where possible, grading effort and method as well as neatness. These adjustments reduce conflict and raise submission rates without lowering standards.
Couples and caregivers should share roles: one grounds, one pivots, and both protect rest. Shame-“bad parenting, bad child”-needs replacing with fact: different wiring, needs scaffolding.
Outcomes improve not by promises of perfection but by daily routines, clear limits and warmed connection. One homework slot kept, one instruction chunked, one calm repair after blurting-these small wins shift the family climate and let the child be seen beyond the label.
Resource
• CPAC (award-winning Mental Health and Counselling Facility): 0559850604 / 0551428486
Source: REV. COUNSELLOR PRINCE OFFEI’s insights on special needs support, relationships, and mental health in Ghana. He is a leading mental health professional, lecturer, ADR Expert/Arbitrator, renowned author, and marriage counsellor at COUNSELLOR PRINCE & ASSOCIATES CONSULT (CPAC COUNSELLOR TRAINING INSTITUTE) – 0551428486 /0559850604.
WEBSITES:
https://princeoffei22.wixsite.com/author
https://princeoffei22.wixsite.com/website
After two weeks of hectic activity up north, I drove to the Tamale airport, parked the car at the Civil Aviation car park as usual, paid the usual parking fee and boarded the plane for Accra.
Over the last two weeks, I had shuffled between three sites where work was close to completion.
One was a seed warehouse, where farmers would come and pick up good quality maize, sorghum and other planting material.
The other was a health facility for new mothers, where they were given basic training on good nutrition and small scale business.
And the third was a set of big boreholes for three farming communities.
The projects usually ran on schedule, but a good deal of time was spent building rapport with the local people, to ensure that they would be well patronised and maintained.
It was great to be working in a situation where one’s work was well appreciated. But it certainly involved a lot of work, and proactivity. And I made sure that I recorded updates online before going to bed in the evening.
When the plane took off, my mind shifted to issues in Accra, the big city. The young guys at my office had done some good work. They had secured five or six houses on a row in a good part of the city, and were close to securing the last.
When we got this property, unusually, Abena greeted them casually, and appeared to be comfortable in the guy’s company.
I was quite disappointed to hear that, because until the last few weeks, it seemed as if Abena and I were heading in a good direction. Apart from the affection I had for her, I liked her family. I decided to take it easy, and allow things to fall in whatever direction.
Normally I would take a taxi to her house from the airport, and pick her up to my place. This time I went to my sisters’ joint, where they sat by me while I enjoyed a drink and a good meal.
“So Little Brother,” Sister Beesiwa said, “what is it we are hearing about our wife-to-be?”
“When did you conclude that she was your wife-to-be? And what have you heard? I’ve only heard a couple of whispers. Ebo and Nana Kwame called to say that they have seen her in the company of—”
“Well said Little Brother,” Sister Baaba said. “By the way, Nana Kwame called an hour ago to ask if you had arrived because he could not reach you. Someone had told him that Jennifer had boasted to someone that she had connected Abena to a wealthy guy who would take care of her.”
I was beginning to understand. For some time, Abena had been asking me what work I was doing up north, and after I had explained it to her, she kept asking. So I think Jennifer fed her with false stories about me in order to get her to move to the Ampadu guy. Jennifer must have been well compensated for her efforts.
“In that case,” Sister Beesiwa said, “you should be glad that Abena is out of your way. She is easily swayed. Anyone who would make a relationship decision based on a friend’s instigation lacks good sense. I hope the guy is as wealthy as they say?”
“Who gets wealthy running a supermarket chain in Ghana?” Sister Baaba said. “Our supermarkets sell mostly imported products. Look at the foreign exchange rate. And remember that Ghanaians buy second-hand shoes and clothes. Supermarkets are not good business here. Perhaps they are showing off that they are wealthy, but in reality they are not doing so well.”
“Amen to that,” I said. “I’m beginning to understand. For some time, Abena had been asking me what work I was doing up north, and after I had explained it to her, she kept asking. So I think Jennifer fed her with false stories about me in order to get her to move to the Ampadu guy. Jennifer must have been well compensated for her efforts.”
She said that David Forson was only an agricultural extension worker in the north who did not have the resources to take care of a beautiful girl like her. And apart from being wealthy, the guy comes from an influential family, so Abena had done much better leaving a miserable civil servant like you for him.
“Amen to that,” I said. “I’m beginning to understand. For some time, Abena had been asking me what work I was doing up north, and after I had explained it to her, she kept asking. We would be able to sell all five houses to one big corporate customer, and we had already spoken to a property dealer who was trying to find a buyer in order to get a good commission.
That was going to be my biggest break. I had asked the boys to look for a large tract of land on the outskirts of the city where we could develop our own set of buildings, blocks of storey houses and upscale apartments. Things were going according to plan, and I was quietly excited. However, things were not going so well regarding my relationship with Abena.
My buddies Ebo and Nana Kwame had called to say that they met Abena and her friend Jennifer enjoying lunch with a guy, and Ebo believed that Jennifer was ‘promoting’ an affair between Jennifer and the guy. They were of the view that the promotion seemed to be going in the guy’s favour, because only an agricultural extension worker in the north who did not have the resources to take care of a beautiful girl like her.
And apart from being wealthy, the guy comes from an influential family, so Abena had done much better leaving a miserable civil servant like you for him.
“As I’ve already said, I will stop by her place, but I will mind my own business from now. Hey, let’s talk family. How are our parents? And my brothers-in-law? And my nephews and nieces? Why don’t we meet on Sunday? I’m going to drop my bags at my place, and go to see Mama and Dad.”
