Walk through any Junior High or Senior High compound in Ghana as BECE or WASSCE approaches and you will see it.

A bright girl suddenly quiet. A boy who led class debates now sleeping at his desk. A Form three student with stomach pains every Monday morning.

 This is not laziness. This is academic stress. When left unaddressed, it hardens into exam phobia-overwhelming dread that pushes children into burnout, avoidance, and sometimes silence. 

As a mental health professional who sits with these children and their parents at Counselor Prince & Associates Consult (CPAC) in Adenta Oyarifa-Teiman, I see the pattern clearly.

Research confirms it. Putwain and Daly (2014) found that high test anxiety predicts lower grades independent of ability. Zeidner (1998) showed that chronic academic pressure raises cortisol, weakens memory recall, and increases school dropout risk. The brain under fear cannot retrieve what it studied. 

Understanding the storm: What academic stress really looks like

Exam phobia is not just “being nervous.” It shows up as headaches before mocks, sudden anger when books are mentioned, night-time insomnia, or perfectionism that ends in blank scripts.

Some children over-study until 2 a.m. and forget everything by 9 a.m. Others avoid books completely, scrolling phones instead. Both are distress signals. Dr Kenneth Ginsburg, a paediatrician specialising in adolescent resilience, notes: “Stress is not the enemy; feeling alone with stress is.” Too many Ghanaian children feel alone with it. 

The home front: How parents and couples become safe havens, not extra pressure 

The first antidote is at home. Structure beats shouting. Set a predictable study slot-same time, same place, with water and a light snack. Then protect sleep like you protect school fees. A tired brain fails faster than an unprepared one. Use the “15-minute start rule”: “Just sit for 15 minutes. If you still can’t, we close and try after a walk.” Often, starting is the hardest part. 

Couples must watch their language. “Don’t disgrace us” plants fear. Replace it with “We see your effort. What part feels hardest today?” Praise process, not only position: “You revised three topics and asked for help—that is maturity.” Research by Dweck (2006) confirms that process praise builds resilience while outcome praise increases anxiety. 

For caregivers, check your own anxiety. Children borrow our nervous system. If BECE makes you panic, they will panic. One parent grounds—keeps meals, prayer, and bedtime steady. The other pivots—talks to teachers, adjusts timetables, arranges counselling. Both protect rest. An empty cup cannot pour calm. 

Resources

– Counsellor Prince & Associates Consult (CPAC): Award-winning Clinical Mental Health and Counselling Facility, accredited by the Ghana Psychology Council. 

– School-Based Support: Speak to Guidance & Counselling units, or licensed school counsellors.  E.g. Counsellor Blessing Offei – 0559850604 (School Counsellor).

– Contact CPAC for Parent Coaching/Counselling & Student Therapy: 055 985 0604 / 055 142 8486 

In the heart of Accra where stories once flickered across giant screens and laughter echoed into the night, a different story unfolds now; one of quiet, more uncertain, yet deeply human.

There was a time when going to the cinema was an event. It was where friendships were strengthened, families bonded and strangers became a community, if only for a few hours.

At cinemas like the Roxy, Rex, Orion, Globe, Opera, Palladium Royal, Kalamazoo, Miami and Regal, among others, people did not just watch films, they shared moments.

Today, those moments feel distant and a visit by The Spectator revealed a totally different story.

At the Roxy Cinema, the transformation was impossible to ignore. The once lively space has taken on a new life; one shaped not by entertainment, but by survival.

Under simple, makeshift shelters, women prepare meals over open fires. Nearby, colourful clothes hang across long wooden benches, the same benches that once held eager cinema-goers waiting for the show to begin.

Buckets, basins and cooking pots are neatly arranged in corners, turning what used to be a place of escape into something far more practical: a place to live and to work.

For those who now occupy the space, this is not about replacing cinema, it is about meeting daily needs.

Not far away, the story at Rex Cinema unfolds differently, but leads to the same conclusion.

At the entrance of the Rex Cinema, the bold sign still announces its name, as if holding on to its identity. But behind that name, the purpose has changed.

Where people once queued for tickets, Ghanaian-themed items now hang for sale. A Black Stars jersey sways gently at the entrance, welcoming not movie lovers, but customers.

Inside, glimpses through glass doors reveal stacked goods and household items. The cinema has quietly transitioned into a storage and trading space.

At Orion Cinema, the entrance to the main cinema hall has been locked but the front view is filled with newspaper vendors, black market operators and food stuff vendors.

Across Ghana, many of these once-beloved spaces have slowly slipped into similar states.  These spaces are either abandoned, repurposed or simply forgotten.

Years ago, under the Ghana Film Industry Corporation, cinemas were central to social life. They were places where stories, both local and foreign, helped shape identity and imagination. But times have changed.

Mr Bernard Tagoe, a caretaker at Roxy Cinema, for the past eight years, spoke to The Spectator candidly about the situation.

“Anything can happen, if the owners come today and say everyone should leave, we’ll have to go. So I always remind them to be ready,” he stated.

He noted that some of the women cook and sell food to earn a living, while others simply need a place to rest.

He said a monthly fee of GH¢100 is taken to pay for property rates and other expenses, adding that, “receipts of such payments have been safely kept for the future.”

Today, entertainment fits into the palm of a hand. With mobile phones and streaming platforms, the need to gather in one place to watch a film has faded.

“Now, everything is on the phone,” the caretaker reflected. “Back then, it was different.”

And yet, even in this changing landscape, there is a quiet effort to hold on to remember, and perhaps, to rebuild.

A recent visit by the National Film Authority (NFA), led by its Executive Director, Kafui Danku, has brought renewed attention to these forgotten spaces.

Touring sites including the Orion Cinema, the team encountered scenes that were difficult to ignore.

Describing one such visit as ‘heartbreaking,’ Ms Danku’s words reflected not just the physical state of the buildings, but the emotional weight of what has been lost.

She highlighted the urgency of intervention and the need to preserve these cultural landmarks before they are entirely lost.

She said plans were underway to reclaim and restore some of these cinemas, adding that the vision was to transform them into modern film centres and creative spaces that served today’s generation while preserving yesterday’s legacy.

 “Our goal is clear, to stimulate private investment, expand cinema infrastructure and make film accessible to all Ghanaians,” she said.

Ms Danku described the plans of the NFA as an ambitious goal that carries promise for jobs, creativity and cultural renewal.

By Esinam Jemima Kuatsinu