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Monsieur’s daughter —(Part 4)
Sarah and her two younger brothers attended Research School Complex, a fine school run by the research institutions in the Eastern Region. A brilliant child, she enjoyed school, and was always around the top of her class.
She loved her parents. Her mother made sure they lacked nothing. Her father was the easy going type. He was generally good to them, but he hardly spent much time at home. Her major problem was her parents’ continuous quarrels.
During those sessions, the children would recoil in front of the TV in their room till they fell asleep. Very often, they would wake up to hear them quarrelling. Up till she reached junior high, she and her siblings managed to live with the situation. But later on she would hear them exchange threats and insults which confused and scared her.
‘You are a useless man. You are lazy and incompetent at work. Your boss says he’s tired of complaining. He says if you don’t change you could lose your job’.
‘And you are a heartless and selfish woman. You only care about money and yourself. Why should you go and discuss me with my boss? ‘
‘You dare call me heartless and selfish, when I feed and clothe you and your children? You lazy man. Can you survive for a month if I don’t feed you? When was the last time you took care of any of your children’s expenses, school fees, food, clothing or books?’
‘At the very least I provided you with a home and respectability. Without me you would be living in shame. You would have been exposed for who you really are’.
‘If you dare repeat that brainless sentence, I will teach you a lesson you would never forget’.
‘There you go. Threats! Threats! Why are you always threatening me?’
‘I asked you to repeat that stupid statement once, and see what happens’.
‘Okay. I’m sorry. Look, this is not good for the kids. I’m going to town. Will be right back’. With that he dashed out of the door, into his car and noisily sped off.
Although Sarah usually excelled in academics, the turmoil at home was having an impact on her. The teachers noticed that she was withdrawn, and would sometimes break into tears with little or no provocation.
Ms Odame, an elderly English teacher, took an interest in her and, after Sarah had told her about the problems she was facing at home, spent any free time she got encouraging her. She realised that there was a deep seated problem behind the symptoms she was displaying. One morning, she took her out for lunch, and asked her the hard question.
‘Sarah, for some time now, I’ve been trying to encourage you, because you are a brilliant girl, even though you may be facing a few problems at home. Now Sarah, I want to do my best to help you, but I want you to try and tell me exactly what the problem is at home, and I will do my best to help you. I promise you that I won’t discuss this with your parents’. Without much hesitation she unburdened herself of the load she had been carrying.
‘My parents are always quarrelling. Most of the time it is about money. Mummy keeps saying that Daddy doesn’t give her money, but spends his money on going out with friends and girls.
She also says that he is not serious with his work, so he’s not gaining any promotion. But Daddy sometimes says something which infuriates Mummy. He says he has kept her secret and given her respect, so she should stop disturbing her.
Mummy would then say that the whole issue was Daddy’s making, that if she mentioned it again she would move us out and leave him destitute. He would usually get scared, and apologised. There would be peace for some time, then it would happen again’.
‘I see. I see. Now, Sarah, I want you to trust me on this. I will do my best to help you. Do your best not to dwell on this. Come to me whenever you need any help, but we will solve the problem very soon’.
Through her enquiries, she learnt that Madam Gladys Ababio taught for a while at Aboso Senior High School. She made further enquiries at the GES, and learnt that the current headmaster of the school had been teaching there for close to twenty years. She called him and booked an appointment, explaining that she wanted to make an enquiry about an issue that would help a student of hers who was currently troubled.
‘Thanks for agreeing to see me’, she said after she had been welcomed with a snack. ‘I will go straight to the point. I have a student in JHS three, a girl. She’s brilliant, but she’s troubled at home. She confided in me that her parents have been quarrelling continually, and they seem to be hiding a secret. The mother was a catering teacher here in this school’.
‘I believe I have your assurance that you will handle this information with care, since it concerns a minor’.
‘You have my fullest assurance, madam
‘.
‘You are talking about Gladys and David, who were my colleagues. I know them, very well. They separated soon after marrying, and Gladys married one Simon. David was a very popular French teacher. In fact, the school’s playground is named after him.
He left for Germany as soon as the marriage broke down. He’s back, doing big business. He has been doing a lot for the school, but he prefers not to be given any publicity.
Now, let me come to the main issue that has brought you here from Koforidua. Not long after David had married Gladys and was living with her, Simon appeared from America, and spent some time in a hotel with her.
This happened again some months later. David got wind of this, and decided to end the marriage and leave town. Gladys and her relatives begged and begged, but he wouldn’t budge. Then, obviously with the intent of punishing him for rejecting her, Gladys came out and told Monsieur that the baby, Sarah, was not his. Indeed, she had told him that she would teach him a lesson.
David was shattered, but his parents advised him not to fight Gladys over the issue, because she was quite strong-headed. They told him that the child would come back to him eventually, if she was truly his. So he left town. And Simon married Gladys.
‘I see. So Sarah is not Simon’s child’.
‘No way. Listen, Sarah was conceived before Simon appeared from nowhere. This was known to everyone at Aboso, because David was very popular, a great guy. I don’t know how Gladys can live with herself, after what she did’.
‘I don’t know how to thank you. I will go back and do my best for the child, without causing much trouble’.
By Ekow de Heer
Walk into any supermarket in Accra, Kumasi, or Tamale today, and you will see the modern Ghanaian diet packaged as ‘progress.’ You will see breakfast cereals with cartoon mascots, fruit drinks that are mostly sugar and colour, and snacks promising energy and happiness in bright fonts.
Even products loaded with salt and unhealthy fats often wear a health halo labeled as fortified or natural, while the real nutritional risk is hidden in tiny print on the back. This is not just a consumer inconvenience; it is a public health blind spot. Ghana is living through a silent surge of non-communicable diseases (NCDs) like hypertension, diabetes, and stroke.
These conditions quietly drain household income and steal productive years. According to the Ghana Health Service (GHS) and World Health Organisation (WHO) estimates, NCDs are now responsible for nearly 45 per cent of all deaths in Ghana.
We cannot build a healthy nation on a food environment designed to confuse people at the point of purchase. Ghana must mandate simple front-of-pack warning labels (FOPWL) on high-sugar, high-salt, and high-fat packaged foods because consumers deserve truth at a glance, and industry must be pushed to reformulate.
Why Back-of-Pack Labels Are Not Enough
In theory, consumers can read nutrition panels. In reality, most Ghanaians shop under pressure, limited time, rising prices, and children tugging at their sleeves. The back label is a relic that requires a high cognitive load to interpret—essentially, the seller knows what is inside, but the buyer cannot easily tell.
This ‘information asymmetry’ is not fair. It is not consumer choice when the information needed to choose well is deliberately difficult to find.
Simple warning labels like the black octagons used in the Chilean Model act as a ‘stop-and-think’ nudge. They do not ban products but they simply tell the truth so people can decide.
Reshaping Our Food Environment
A generation ago, Ghana’s meals were mostly home-prepared, like kenkey and banku with soups and stews. Today, ultra-processed foods have become the norm, especially in urban areas. Children are growing up with sugary drinks and salty snacks as everyday items, not occasional treats.
If Ghana is serious about prevention, we must act where decisions are made—thus, the shelf. Warning labels protect parents from sugar traps and pressure the market to improve. When warning labels are mandatory, manufacturers start to compete to make healthier recipes to avoid the stigma of the label.
Addressing the Pushback
Industry will argue that labels create fear or that education alone is enough. However, health education is slow; labels work immediately. While the informal street food sector is a challenge, regulating pre-packaged goods is the practical starting point because the supply chain is traceable. We cannot wait until the whole system is perfect; we must start where action is feasible.
A 2026 Implementation Roadmap for Ghana
To move from talk to action, Ghana needs this 5-step plan:
- Issue mandatory regulation: The Ministry of Health, Food and Drug Authority (FDA), and Ghana Standards Authority (GSA) must define the label format and nutrient thresholds for all pre-packaged foods.
- Simple, bold symbols: Use plain language and clear symbols, such as “HIGH IN SUGAR,” designed for busy families, not experts.
- Transparent thresholds: Adopt technically defensible standards adapted to the Ghanaian diet.
- Transition and enforce: Provide a 12–18 month period for manufacturers to reformulate, followed by firm enforcement at ports and retail centers.
- National literacy campaign: The Ghana Health Service must pair labels with public messages explaining why high salt or sugar increases disease risk.
Conclusion: Truth Is Not a Luxury
Prevention is cheaper than treatment. A warning label costs little compared to the price of dialysis, stroke rehabilitation, or lifelong diabetes complications. A black octagon on a box of biscuits is more than a label; it is a shield for the health of all Ghanaians. It is time to put the truth where we can see it, right on the front.
By Abigail Amoah Sarfo
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Natives of the Kenkey Kingdom were mad with joy. They were still recovering from the hangover of the kingdom’s loss of the African Cup when their spirits were rekindled. Their great warrior, Zoom Zoom, stormed Melbourne and made sure that every Australian refused food. And that was after he had drawn contour lines on the face of their idol, Jeff Fenech.
Not only did the terrible warrior transform Old Boy Jeff’s face into a contour map useful for geography lessons, but he also accomplished the feat of retaining the much-envied super-kenkeyweight title against all odds. The warrior had not been eating hot kenkey for nothing.
The Fight Against Fenech
When Jeff Fenech bit the dust in the eighth round, I was tempted to consider if Adanko Deka could not have faced him in any twelve-rounder, title or non-title bout. Adanko has improved tremendously, and soon he would be facing Pernell Whitaker.
Sincerely, I was pessimistic about Azumah’s man, who the last time took him through twelve grueling rounds of rough boxing. I expressed my fears to my colleague Christian Abbew, alias Gbonyo, who surprisingly had total confidence that the Australian brawler would fall, predictably in Round Five.
Gbonyo gave reasons for his contention, all of which I counteracted using the age factor. Fact is, I didn’t know that contrary to the laws of nature, Azumah was all the time growing younger.
When Fenech fell briefly in round one, I asked my brother whether it was the same Fenech that fought Azumah in Las Vegas. Sure, it was the same Fenech, all out to beat Azumah before his countrymen.
But the African Professor had no intention of making the Australian a hero. As he spun round the desperate Aussie, dancing and stinging out his jabs, it was not too long before I realized that the end was near.
The Eighth Round Showdown
Two minutes into the eighth round, the African ring-master proved to the whole world that he was a true son of Bukom. He himself was cornered, but like the tough nut he is, he managed to break free before overwhelming the panting Australian with several blows that made him crash headlong.
Moments after, the referee, expressing fatherly sympathy, stopped the fight to prevent an obituary. After the ordeal, Fenech’s fairly handsome face was full of newly constructed hills, valleys, ox-bow lakes—whatever. I noticed that his nose was very tired and had a miniature volcano sitting restlessly on it. Obviously, Jeff’s wife will have to nurse that nose back to its normal shape—but I’d advise her not to use iodine, otherwise her dear husband will wail like a banshee.
Reflections on Boxing
Because Mohammed Ali was the kind of boxer kids liked, many school-going kids often entertained the wish of becoming like him. I remember one day when I told my father I wanted to become a boxer, and he advised me to first complete my education to the highest level. Then, if I decided to become a boxer and was knocked out a couple of times, I’d fall back on my degrees and make a living.
Boxing used to be interesting when bouts were fought more with the mouth and tongue than with gloves. You had to brag well, psychologically belittling your opponent before beating him up physically. Mohammed Ali became a very successful pugilist because he also managed to become a poet. He often blew his horn across America, calling himself the “pretty boxer” and opponents like Joe Frazier “the gorilla.”
Ali made a living fighting hard fists like Joe Frazier, Ken Norton, Jerry Quarry, George Foreman, Leon Spinks, and Trevor Berbick. Twice he came back from retirement to fight just for money. It was Larry Holmes who finally pensioned him, and since then the great Ali has never been himself.
The Path Ahead for Azumah
When Azumah nailed Jeff Fenech on the cross and barked almost immediately that he was after the head of Pernell Whitaker, I was happy but concerned. I would have been happier if he had announced his resignation there and then—he would have been more of a hero. Beating Fenech in Australia is more newsworthy than facing Whitaker in the States.
With Whitaker, it might be a little difficult. The “Sweet Pea” is agile, has a crooked body like a snake with diarrhea, and stands awkwardly as a southpaw. He is known for having the fastest pair of fists and the rare ability to dodge punches no matter how close they may be.
Much as I do not doubt that Azumah can take his title, I also don’t want him to retire beaten. I want him to retire as a hero and live a fuller, healthy life.
As Azumah himself said after dishing Fenech, he is now a professor and has something to show for it. Like a true professor, I think it is time he resigned and took up training young talents who could draw inspiration from him and become like him in the future.
Closing Thoughts
I must say that although ageing boxers like Larry Holmes and George Foreman are making a name for themselves, boxing is not like the Civil Service, where you can even change your age and retire at 74. Zoom Zoom has delighted the hearts of the natives, and Sikaman will forever hold him in high esteem—but only when he retires as a hero.
This article was first published on Saturday, March 7, 1992.
