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Mothers cannot wait
Last Sunday was Mothers’ Day worldwide and mothers all over the globe were saluted and honoured. All kinds of gifts were lavished on them. In fact, mothers’ day is a far, far bigger deal than fathers’ day. Whereas mothers get gifts as grand as houses, cars, jewellery, and other valuable presents depending on the financial clout of the giver, gifts for fathers seem like child’s play. They appear like an afterthought.
For example, if a mother gets some pieces of wax prints and/or jewellery, a father may get a tie or a card or a towel. By conservative estimates, if GHc 1,500 is spent on a mother, expenditure on a father may amount to about GHc 600 or less. I am not jealous as a father. I understand.
In fact, my mother’s people, the Fantes, have a proverb that says: “Egya kyew na onnwe,” which loosely translates to: “The father fries (the fish or whatever) but does not taste it.”In other words, men must provide for their wives and children first, before they think of themselves.
But, in recent times, the roles have been reversed in many instances. More and more women have taken over the responsibilities of men, not because they are “too know”or “sabbe, sabbe” as Ghanaians say in their local parlance. The fact of the matter is that some men are not pushing themselves hard enough, and by nature, women cannot sit comfortably by while things go haywire.
For all their diligence, empathy, protection, and love, mothers deserve all the gifts and every bit of the encomiums showered on them, and more. But mothers cannot wait; they cannot wait until mothers’ day before they are recognised; they cannot wait until they are dead and gone before they are honoured with a lavish funeral.
Mothers have historically been the burden bearers for humanity. Right from conception, they carry their babies for nine months. Some of them are abandoned the moment their men hear they are pregnant, pregnant carrying the babies of these capricious men which they irresponsibly make out of self-gratification not out of love or duty.
When they are threatened to abort the baby or face abandonment, most mothers would rather keep the pregnancy and nurture their unborn child by any means possible. With no support in a situation like this, the courage of mothers moves into top gear. They would do all kinds of jobs just to make sure the unborn child is safe, nourished, and protected.
With that heavy load, and a heart broken by a selfish, irresponsible man, a mother would do everything to ensure that she and her unborn baby survive. She would sell ice water, oranges, foodstuff, her clothes, and virtually anything people would buy. I forgot “bofroat.” I hear it is “ball float,” coined by the Fantes from the way the doughnuts float in oil while being fried.
A mother’s bowels of compassion know no boundaries. Can you imagine what the mother of Jesus went through as they crucified her Son over trumped-up charges? While men, His disciples for that matter, were nowhere to be found, with the exception of John, Mary stood at the foot of the cross at a position where her Son would make eye contact with her so that she would urge Him on to stay strong. Her bowels were churning at the sight of her tortured Son, but she did it all the same.
Because of the caring attitude of mothers, God Himself uses feminine metaphors to describe His attributes. Like a hen, He says He will cover His people with His feathers, and under His wings shall they trust. When Jesus was about to be crucified, He lamented over Jerusalem for her waywardness saying, He would have loved to protect the city under His wings, but the inhabitants would not let Him. These images depict the warm nature of God, a trait associated with mothers.
There is no warrior like a mother. When it comes to protecting her children, she fights with the claws of an eagle, the paws of a lioness or a bear, and the sting of a scorpion. That is how fierce a mother can be in the defence of her children, though wayward they may be. On top of that mothers have a good deal of ESP, (extrasensory perception) by which they smell danger afar off and act accordingly to nip it in the bud.
Just watch how a hen fends off a marauding hawk skirmishing to snatch one of her chicks. With the eyes of an eagle, she sees the danger afar off and puts herself in battle mode, ever ready to fight to the hilt until she secures her territory for the safety of her vulnerable chicks. In that sense, too, God compares Himself to a mother bear. He says like a bear robbed of her cubs, He would attack those attacking her little ones and rip them open.
Talking of ESP, I remember when I was a teenager, my mum warned me about a friend of mine, a person whose trustworthiness I had no reason to question. Here was a young, brilliant, handsome, jovial guy from a good home. He was just affable, but for some strange reason unclear to fathom, my mother saw him differently. She saw beyond the surface and told me my friend resembled a murderer.
As boys usually do, my friends and I used to gather at our house or in another friend’s house and go out to have fun. Those were the days when attending secondary school in Cape Coast was the best thing that could happen to a student. It was just a thing of joy. During vacations, some Accra guys would stay over at our place, or return during occasions like the famed Fetu Afahye festival and enjoy themselves.
One day, my mum told me in Fante:“Wo yonko yi, os3 wudzinyi,” meaning, “This friend of yours looks like a murderer.”I did not take kindly to that, but time proved her right. A bunch of us went on a night out and were returning on foot along a bridge that spanned the Fosu Lagoon. I do not know what kind of spirit came over him but, suddenly, my friend held me and threatened that if I dared him, he would throw me into the lagoon. And he knew swimming was not my forte.
He was heavier and stronger than me, and he actually dragged me closer to the edge of the lagoon. I instantly remembered my mum’s warning and knew if I died that young, it would be due to my foolishness in thinking I knew better, and consequently defying my mother’s instinctive warning.
With these thoughts racing through my mind, I behaved sensibly, keeping calm until the evil that came over him retreated. On hindsight, I know that my mother was praying for me. I never told her what happened, but I advised myself.
I recall that when we were growing up, mothers who had been delivered newly of their babies, had a custom of wearing white clothes with beautiful footwear and white beads as necklace, and visiting maternity and childcare clinics to weigh their babies and monitor other aspects of their vital signs.
Imagine a mother who was abandoned by her man and struggled to have the baby. She just could not afford the luxury of changing clothes to celebrate the joy of having a baby safely after all the problems. Some still had their husbands, but they were living on hard times. Whatever the reason, the sorrowful mother braced herself for the sneers of the public and did what she had to do, money or no money.
Some of us were cry babies who never allowed our mothers any good sleep at night. Even if our fathers were around, they would be snoring. Our mothers understood the meaning of every kind of cry we let out. If we were sick, they knew. If we were hungry, they knew.
When we messed ourselves and felt uncomfortable, our mothers knew even if there were no smell to alert them. They just knew and took care of it. Even if we were angry about something as little as we were, our mothers understood.
Despite all their tireless work, some mothers are reaping a whirlwind. Their own children have risen up against them for so many reasons. For some, their snobbery of their mothers is due to lies fed them by fake prophets that their mother is a witch.
Others are influenced by their tigresses, wives whose say is final. There are some, including men and women, who now see their mothers as villagers whose visits embarrass them before their friends in the city. What? You are ashamed of your mother? I do not blame you. Now, you think you have arrived. And you have no clue how you made it this far.
Honour your father and mother that your days may be prolonged. This is the only commandment with a promise. The reverse holds equally true. And that is, if you do not honour your father and mother, your days would be shortened. Period! Honouring mothers should be regular. Mothers cannot wait until …
Contact: teepeejubilee@yahoo.co.uk
By Tony Prempeh
When Abigail Fremah steps up to the Armwrestling table, the noise fades, the tension settles, and order takes over.
Despite a calm, but firm and meticulous disposition, she has become one of the quiet forces shaping Ghana’s growing reputation in the sport, not as an athlete, but a referee trusted on the continental stage.
Abigail’s journey into Armwrestling did not begin at the table. Like many Ghanaian sports enthusiasts, she grew up playing several disciplines. Football was her first love, but she also featured in volleyball and basketball during her school years. Sports, she says, was simply a way of life not just for her.
“It runs through the family. All my siblings are into sports,” she stated.
“I was involved in almost every sport in school, football, volleyball, netball, hockey; I did everything,” she recalls.
Her academic background in Health, Physical Education and Recreation laid a solid foundation for her sporting career. While on scholarship at the university (University of Cape Coast), she often used her modest budget to support young athletes, sometimes sharing skills and even T-shirts at programmes she attended. Giving back, she explains, has always been part of her motivation.
However, as she matured as an athlete, Abigail made a critical self-assessment.
“Armwrestling involves a lot of strength,” she admits. “Looking at my body type, I realised I couldn’t fit properly as a competitive athlete.”
That moment of honesty pushed her to a different trajectory but equally important path in sports; which is officiating.
During her National Service, she was encouraged by Mr Charles Osei Asibey, the President of the Ghana Armwrestling Federation (GAF), to consider officiating. He introduced her to a technical official, Mr Hussein Akuerteh Addy, who formally took her through the basics of Armwrestling officiating in 2021.
“I started as a case official,” she says. “We moved from region to region every week, officiating competitions. That’s where it all began.”
By 2022, Abigail was actively involved in national assignments, though she missed the African Championship that year. Her breakthrough came in 2023, when Ghana hosted the African Armwrestling Championship.
It was her first experience officiating at a major international competition and it changed everything.
“That was my first national and international exposure at the same time,” she says. “It really opened my eyes.”
Today, Abigail is a World Junior Armwrestling Referee, a status earned through performance, consistency and discipline. She explains that progression in officiating was not automatic.
“It’s all about performance, your appearance at African Championships, your conduct, how you handle pressure; that’s what takes you to the world level,” she stressed.
As a referee, Abigail’s priority is safety and fairness. Armwrestling, she notes, comes with risks, particularly injuries to the wrists, elbows, shoulders and arms.
“If athletes don’t follow the rules or refuse to listen to officials, injuries can happen,” she explains, adding that focus was everything.
Before every match, she ensures that all equipment which includes elbow pads, hand pegs and table alignment were properly set. Athletes are not allowed to cover their elbows, must grip correctly, and must follow the referee’s commands precisely.
“We make sure everything is fixed before the grip,” she says. “Once we say ‘Ready… Go’, there should be no confusion.”
She is also firm on discipline. Warnings are issued for infractions, and repeated misconduct attracts penalties.
“The referee must be respected, if you don’t listen, the rules will deal with you,” she says.
Abigail credits her confidence partly to her sporting family background. Her mother was a volleyball player, while other family members also participated in sports. Though they were initially concerned about her safety, her rise to the top reassured them.
“They were afraid at first,” she admits. “But they were also very proud, especially because some of them never got the opportunity to reach this level.”
Looking ahead, Abigail is optimistic about the future of Armwrestling in Ghana. In less than a decade, the country has produced African and world-level medalists, a sign, she believes, of great things to come for Ghana.
“Whenever we go out, we come back with medals such as gold and silver,” she says, and to her that was a sign of growth.
In the next five to ten years, Abigail sees herself rising to become a World Master Referee, the highest officiating level in the sport. Until then, her routine remains intense, training four times a week, working closely with athletes, standing on her feet for hours, and constantly refining her understanding of the rules.
“I love this sport,” she says simply. “That love is what keeps me going.”
Abigail encouraged women to be bold and intentional about their place in sports saying “don’t limit yourself because of fear or stereotypes.”
She also urged women to invest in learning, discipline and consistency, stressing that respect was earned through performance.
For Abigail, as Ghana’s armwrestlers continue to make their mark, she will remain where she is most effective at the table, ensuring the game is played right.
By Esinam Jemima Kuatsinu
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As he had promised Aperkeh, the elderly man and his wife and three daughters stopped by Aperkeh’s parents’ house. Mr Amando and his family were preparing to settle in for the night.
“Brother Ben and family”, Mr Joshua Amando said warmly, “although I know you are here on a matter that can hardly be described as joyous, it is still good to see you. You are welcome. Please sit down while I bring you water”.
“Yes, we will take water, even though we are hardly thirsty, because this is our home”.
“Okay, Ben”, he started after they had drank, “Let me go straight to the point. My daughter Priscilla has told me about the goings on between her brother Aperkeh and our daughter Stella.
Before informing me, Priscilla had expressed concern to Aperkeh about some habits he is adopting, especially the late nights and the drinking. She tells me that one Saturday morning, she was there when Stella complained about his drinking and some girls who had come to the house to look for him, and he assaulted her.
I called him and complained, but all he could say was that I don’t know what caused him to react that way, so I could not judge him. Now he does not answer my calls.
I have sent Priscilla to his house to call him, but he has refused to come. Unfortunately, Ben, my son is a much different person than the young boy who completed university and started work at the bank. I am really embarrassed about his treatment of Stella”.
“Joshua, let me assure you that even though what is happening is very unfortunate, it will not affect our relationship.
We have been friends since childhood, and I thought that with their parents’ blessing, the relationship between Aperkeh and Stella would grow to become a blessing to all of us. But there appears to be a real challenge now.
Stella thinks that Aperkeh wants her out of his house, and indeed Aperkeh himself told me that, about an hour ago.
So I’m taking my daughter home. I suggest that you do what you can to straighten him out, but if it does not work out, let’s accept the situation and continue to be one family.
I am sure that being the well behaved girl that she is, Stella will meet a young man who will cherish her. Fortunately, this problem is happening early in the day, so they can sort things out if possible, or move on with their lives if they are unable to stay together”.
“I’m really grateful for that, Ben. I will do my best in the next few days to reason with him, because apart from the relationship with Stella, Aperkeh is risking his job and career with this lifestyle.
A good job and salary offers an opportunity to gather momentum in life, not to destroy yourself”.
“Okay Brother Joshua. We will say goodnight. I hope to hear positive news from you”.
As he descended in the lift from the fourth to the ground floor, Aperkeh wondered who would be waiting at the reception to see him at nine on Monday morning. He had spent good time with both of his new girls during the weekend, so it had to be someone else. He got out of the lift and pulled a face when he saw Priscilla.
“Priscilla”, he said as he sat down by her, “what do you want here? You know Monday morning is a busy time at the bank. I am a very busy person, so say what you want, I have work to do”.
“You are very funny, Aperkeh. You are telling me, your sister, that you have work to do, so I should hurry up? Okay, Dad says I should advise you to come home tonight, because he wants to discuss the issue of Stella with you. He sent me to you twice, and you did not come.
He has tried to call you quite a number of times, but you have refused to answer his calls. He says that if you do not come tonight, you will be very surprised at what he will do. He says you will not like it at all, so better come.
“What is all this? Why won’t you people leave me alone? Stella is very disrespectful. I told her that if she wanted to continue to live in my house, she must obey me. It is that simple.
She chose to continue ordering me about, controlling me in my own house, so I told her that if she could not live under my conditions she should leave. And she left. In fact, her own father came and took her away. So what again?’’
“How did she disobey or control you? Was she complaining about your continuous drinking and late nights? And did you slap her on several occasions because of that? Did you tell her that if she could not live under your conditions she should leave? You actually said that to her father? You have forgotten that before she came to live with you, our two parents met and agreed, and gave it their blessing?’
“Why don’t you leave, Priscilla? I don’t have to listen to all that”. “Okay, I will go. Your father who gave birth to you and educated you to university level sends me to you, and you ask me to leave? I wish you would defy him, and refuse to come home as he’s telling you, because he is planning to give you the discipline you badly need. Let me tell you. Stella is such a beautiful and decent girl, and I assure you that someone will grab her before you say Jack. You are only 30 years old, and you have already become a drunkard”.
As he walked towards the lift, Aperkeh decided on what to do. He would go home, and calmly listen to what his father had to say. The old man was very unpredictable, and he wouldn’t dare ignore him. So he would take all the insults and threats, but as for Stella she was history. According to Priscilla, Stella was beautiful and all that, but she had not seen the two curvaceous princesses who were all over him, ready to do anything he asked. And these were not barely literate waakye girls, but university graduates from wealthy homes, really classy girls. With stuff like that, who needs a waakye girl? He smiled as he took his seat.
A few minutes to five, Aperkeh was packing up to leave for home to meet his dad when his phone rang. It was Priscilla.
“Aperkeh, Dad says you don’t need to bother to come. Stella’s dad says she came to him early this morning to plead that she would rather stay at home than return to your house. She thinks you are already decided to be rid of her, and she does not want to risk being assaulted again. So it’s done. You can go ahead and enjoy the nice life you have started”.
Before he could tell her to go to hell, Priscilla hanged up the line. He was partially stung that his dad had virtually cut him off. The last thing anyone would want was to fall out of relationship with his own family, which had always supported him.
But the truth was he was no longer interested in Stella. What was wrong with going by one’s feelings? He could only hope that one day, his parents and sister would try to reason with him.
By Ekow de Heer
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