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Kesewah Afua ‘wa paase’ (she has passed)
MY mother told me a very moving real life story that she experienced as a child which caused her to know that indeed, God is real. She narrated to me how she began her primary school education.
First of all, she told me that it was providence that made her end up in school because the one who comes after her in the family died after a short ailment.
As a result of her death, her father decided to send her to school as a replacement because he could only afford to send only one child to school at a time due to financial challenges. She told me that due to the fact that she was suddenly rushed into school she could not write and when the exams was conducted it was a disaster.
Classes like 1A, 1B and 1C was taught by a teacher called Mr Ofosuhene. The A refers to those who could read, B refers to those who come after in terms of academic ability and the C was referring to people like Kesewah Afua, my mother, who were at the bottom of the academic ladder. Those were the days when surname was mentioned before one’s first name so instead of Afua Kesewah, my mother was called Kesewah Afua.
Teacher Ofosuhene writes on the board and the pupils in class 1C are asked to copy same on their slate. After the allotted time for the exams, the teacher calls each pupil to bring his or her slate to him. He goes through it and cleans the slate and writes the mark he awards on the slate.
He then asks the pupil to go back and sit down. Afterwards, he calls in some of the class 1A pupils to mention the mark written on the slate when the name of each Class 1C pupil is called out. The teacher then records the mark on his sheet of paper and then arrange the positions in class based on the marks obtained by each pupil.
The results are then announced at the assembly of the entire primary school, class by class. Those who did well were applauded and those who failed were teased with a resounding voice ‘Wa faili’ i.e. she or he has failed. That was the unfortunate case of my mom. The teacher announced that the following pupils have failed and started mentioning their names.
Whenever each name is mentioned, a resounding ‘wa faili’ accompanies it. What made it worst for my mom was that not only did she fail, but was the last in the group of failures and therefore the last in the class.
She told me that she started weeping uncontrollably from the school to their house when the announcement of the results came to an end and the school vacated.
She further told me that she wept the whole day from the time the results were announced and she heard ‘wa faili’ to the extent that her father list appetite for her evening meal of fufu and soup, which was his favourite.
His father always consoled her and in the days following this incident started to help her to learn how to write and read by using a cutlass as a ruler and creating straight lines for her to practice writing. School reopened and she went to school. Another exams time finally came and another exams took place. The mark that Teacher Ofosuhene wrote on Kesewah Afua’s slate was nine.
Then comes the beginning of her trust in God. She told me that as she went to sit on her chair after the teacher had written the mark she obtained on her slate, she heard a clear instruction that, “Kesewah add zero to the mark on your slate.”
When the mark was mentioned to the teacher he was surprised so he asked the pupil who mentioned the mark to bring the slate for him to verify. To cut a long story short, when the results were announced, “Kesewah Afua w’adi first, w’a paase” i.e. Kesewah Afua is in first position, she has passed.
That was in 1948 and years later, she wondered why she did not put the zero before the nine since she had not mastered the numerals. Again how come she was able to write the zero exactly like the teacher writes such that he could not detect that it was not her who added the zero to the nine?
That is God for you.
By Laud Kissi-Mensah
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.
