Today there are an estimated 20,000 children below the age of 18 who live and sleep on the streets of Accra, Ghana. This number has tripled since the early 1990s suggesting that this is a second generation of homeless children stuck in a poverty trap without any future hope of a life beyond the streets.
In Accra, thousands of children compete for work without access to shelter, medical care, education, or adult support and street children must use whatever means possible to generate an income on which to survive. Unfortunately, for many girls living on the street, prostitution becomes their only resource for survival as they sell their bodies to supplement their incomes, often at a very young age. Prostitution, rape and a lack of access to contraceptives has led to high rates of teenage pregnancies, unsafe abortions and sexually transmitted infections.
Addressing poverty and the exponentially increasing homeless population in Accra requires supporting the people living on the streets today and preventing the birth of another generation of street children trapped in life of poverty.
Meg Gill (Yale '07) has teamed up with Street Girls Aid to implement the UbuMama project in Accra, Ghana and to provide additional support and encouragement to homeless young women.
Street Girls Aid
Street Girls Aid is a non-profit organization dedicated to supporting and caring for the young women on the streets. Street Aid provides teenage mothers with a refuge complete with counseling, skills training programs and temporary housing for mothers suffering from illness and hopelessness. Empowering women and protecting mothers is essential to reducing the number of children born onto the streets through providing alternatives and a foreseeable path out of their current life. With education and access to contraception and proper care, these trends can be reversed, but this is a timely matter. As more children are born into street life, and too little is done, traditional and cultural values are gradually eroded, competition for work increases, the poverty trap becomes more difficult to escape and the dream of a life beyond the street slowly fades away.
Meg Gill's marathon debut
On October 7, 2007, Meg Gill made her debut marathon appearance, running 26.2 miles in The LaSalle Bank Chicago Marathon in honor and support of the women of Ghana.
Personal Stories
Miss Hawa
I experienced a horrific scene back home that keeps scaring me anytime I remember the incident. It was all about my cousin who underwent an operation of her clitoris popularly known as female Genital mutilation.
The lady screamed and screamed much to the annoyance of the perpetrators of the crime. Eventually, they succeeded in undertaking the operation. Hours after, she started bleeding profusely; the bleeding was such that no amount of herbs could control it. In the final analysis, she collapsed and had to be rushed to a health facility for help.
Similar problems have befallen some women in my community; some complain that after going through the terrible pains, other problems they normally encounter is during childbirth. The midwives explain to them that because of the excision of the clitoris, that area of the birth canal cannot expand enough to facilitate an easy delivery. They are therefore compelled to expand the outlet of the birth canal by cutting the skin that lies between the vulva and the anus.
The wound gives them a lot of pain several days after the procedure. Many of such ladies are unable to sit well or even walk because of their size. Others who are unable to take good care of such wounds end up having them gapping, meaning they have to go back to the hospital to have the wounds stitched up again.
I also remember in my village, some women who deliver, start wetting their underwear with urine. The women are unable to control their bladder any longer because of the complication they develop after going through prolong labour. Unfortunately, most of such ladies patronise the services of Traditional Birth Attendants who have not received any form of training in modern midwifery, and remain stuck to age old traditions of the practice of the profession.
Accessing health care for the correction of such birth complications is very expensive, and full of bureaucratic bottlenecks. Many at times, such women go through that agonising embarrassment for life.
Mary Owusua
I am 17 years old and a native of Kawhu in the Eastern region of Ghana. My mother had a horrific experience during the time she was pregnant. She never paid visits to the antenatal clinic as result of poverty and ignorance about complications relating to pregnancy.
One day, she felt vigorous movements of the foetus in her abdomen after self medicating with some herbal preparation. Because of her ignorance, it never occurred to her that something very serious was happening to the foetus.
A few days after, she felt very ill and was rushed to the hospital. The doctor diagnosed her as suffering from a condition that had occurred because her blood had been infected as a result of the decomposition of the dead foetus in her uterus.
It was there and then that my mother realised that the abnormal foetal movements she experienced the day she took the herbal concoction was because something serious was happening to it; perhaps the substances in the concoction were too strong for a pregnant woman to take.
The health authorities managed to save her life but it went with a lot of costs: financial, time, as well as the loss of her foetus. She learnt a good lesson always to visit the health centre for advice rather self medicating at home.
Diana Alhassan
I am 18 years of age and a native of Savelugu in the northern region of Ghana. I drifted from the northern region to Accra in search of a greener pastures.
In the course of my stay in Accra, I got befriended to a certain gentleman and became pregnant. My boyfriend got irritated at the least provocation and rained insults at me. Some times, he beat me up mercilessly.
With time, I stated bleeding profusely; unfortunately, I lacked the financial means to visit a health facility. As I sat down helplessly, luck came to my side when social workers from Street Girls’ Aid on their routine visit to their operational areas bumped into me.
I was offered all the assistance that enabled me deliver normally. Now, my baby has been passing bloody stools consistently. The doctors are yet to establish the cause, but for me, my strongest conviction is that, my son’s problem is as a result of the complication suffered through the beatings the two of us received in the hands of his father.
Miss DEDE
I remember vividly the ordeal my sister went through first, when she tried unsuccessfully to terminate an unwanted pregnancy with herbal concoctions; and secondly, her decision to deliver at home because she lacked the resources needed to access health care.
My sister, who was a petty trader, got impregnated by an irresponsible gentleman, who denied ownership of the pregnancy the moment she announced to him that she was in the family way. Sensing danger from the outrage of my parents and the inability to shoulder the responsibility of single parenthood, quickly took a decision to terminate it.
She then sought the services of a traditional herbalist, who prepared her concoction to drink and some to insert into her birth canal. This is not all, she was also given some to use as enema twice a day. My sister went exactly according to the prescriptions but instead of terminating the pregnancy, she rather fell ill to the point of death before recovery.
In the final analysis, the pregnancy she aimed at terminating did not succeed; therefore, she had to prepare to deliver the baby. This unwelcome news delved a serious blow to her so much so that, she became very depressed.
When the time arrived for her to deliver, she was unprepared to deliver in the hospital; the next option was to seek the services of a traditional birth attendant. There too, she realised the demands were too much for her to afford. A white cock, soap, many other things in addition to a fee charged at the end of the transaction.
Having no other option, my sister remained at home in labour for five days, a decision which will later on cause her dearly. She was later rushed to the health centre when she realised she could not bear it any longer and feeling very weak.
The health authorities tried their best to rescue her life but to no avail. She was pronounced dead a few hours on admission. The baby however survived, but now remains an orphan with no father nor mother to care for him.
Felicia Appiah
I am a teenager and a native of Agona Nyarkrom, a town situated in the Central Region of Ghana. As a teenager, I lacked the information needed to protect me from reproductive related health problems.
I became pregnant after befriending a boy on the street. The pregnancy brought untold hardship unto my already distressed situation. I kept falling sick often, with no clue as to what was happening in my system; I kept depending on drug peddlers for a solution to my health problem.
One day, the headache became unbearable, I tried taking my usual paracetamol, and it did not work. Eventually, I started experiencing pains in my heart and also feeling very dizzy, but this did not last. All I realised next was that I was lying on a hospital bed. My friends told me I collapsed and went through serious fits with a lot of foam coming from my mouth.
The doctors diagnosed me as having a complication associated with pregnancy, characterised by a rise in blood pressure, swelling of the feet and protein in urine. I was sent to the operating theatre immediately and operated upon. I was by then eight months pregnant and obviously, delivered a premature baby.
I got scared when the doctor informed me that not all women survive this kind of complication. Months after the delivery, my blood pressure is yet to settle. But for street Girls’ Aid, an NGO that came to my aid by footing all my bills and that of my baby, I do not know what would have happened to me.
Miss Fuseina Dawuda
I had a terrible experience being a teenager living on the street and getting pregnant with a teenage boy who is an apprentice in a welding shop, trying to acquire a skill in metal work. With no proper care in the form of nutrition, rest and health care, I often fell sick with malaria topping the list.
As the pregnancy grew bigger and bigger and with no antenatal care, the foetus died and decomposed in my uterus. Infact, I went through a lot of difficulties. I was informed by the health authorities that the decomposition of the dead foetus affected my clotting system. I bled profusely, through the assistance I received from Street Girls’ Aid, I was able to survive.
The ordeal I went through has thought me a lot of lessons. Firstly, my encounter with the health and literacy sessions have educated me on many issues related to Reproductive Health and Rights that I was ignorant about the time I was living on the streets. Topics such as HIV/AIDS and its transmission have thought me not to engage in indiscriminate sex any more. Additionally, I have learnt how to cook and eat balanced diets and how to protect myself against the bites of mosquitoes.
Finally, the organisation has assisted me to register with the National Health Insurance scheme, so as I return to the street, I am confident of living a healthier life style.
Marian Ahmed
I am sixteen years old and a native of Sokoto, a town situated in the northern part of Nigeria. I came to Ghana in the company of my grandmother after the death of my parents in Nigeria.
My grandmother settled in Kumasi, the second largest capital city in Ghana with a couple of her extended family members. I was by then about six years old. As time progressed, my family members in consultation with grandmother, arranged secretly to have me married to an old man, someone qualified to be my grandfather for a fee.
The thought of me getting married to someone I did not love and far older than me kept haunting me. What kind of babies was I going to have with such an old man? And how many years would he live to cater for such children? The problem kept weighing me down so much so that, I tried to persuade them from carrying out the purported marriage rites, but the more I tried to work around it, the more they resisted.
Finally, I took a decision to run away from home. The plan was executed one dawn when my family members were deep asleep; I boarded an Accra bound vehicle to a destination I did not know; but at least was relieved from the mental torture that my family members were putting me through.
Life on the streets of Accra as a street girl was very demanding; I had to do a lot of menial jobs before earning a living. With time, I got befriended to a young man who promised to marry me, at least my heart fell out for him, quiet handsome and full of promises, he took me home away from the streets to be married later on.
Not long after we started settling in my new home did I notice that I had missed my period. The moment I mentioned it to my boyfriend, he started being harsh towards me with severe beatings at times. To add insult to injury, her mother drove me out of the house only on condition that I return if the child I deliver is fair in complexion.
With no money to cater for my health, nutrition, shelter and many others, I landed back on the streets of Accra, this time pregnant .Infact, so psychologically traumatised was I that when I finally got into labour, I did not feel the pains, because, the psychological pain of a teen age girl about to have a baby devoid of a father and a home kept stirring at my face.
My appreciation goes to Street Girls’ Aid who came to my aid when I delivered in a taxi without even knowing that I was in labour. For me, the psychological pain was no where near the labour pain I went through before having this baby.
Miss Bintu
My name is Bintu Abdelraman, a fourteen year old girl who hails from Savelugu, a town situated south of Tamale, the capital town of the Northern region. My troubles started when I left the North down south to look for greener pastures. In the course of trying to adapt to the difficult conditions that prevailed on the streets of Accra, I got befriended to a gentleman who hails from my area.
As time progressed, I realised I was pregnant, not knowing what to do, I approached my boyfriend and to him about the development. The gentleman indicated to my utter surprise that he was not ready to father a baby. He therefore proposed that the pregnancy be terminated. Confused as I was, I agreed to the proposal.
We went to consult a quack doctor, whose task is to undertake abortions for girls like me in those shanties to terminate the pregnancy for me. The man indicated how much he will take and the items to bring along with the money. To my amazement, the gentleman declined to continue with the transaction, and asked me to go ahead and foot all the bills. Attempts to encourage him to reason better resulted in serious beatings any time I raised the issue.
As I continued to ponder over my predicament, many thoughts kept ranging through my mind. First, the fear of engaging the services of an unqualified person to undertake such a delicate procedure, the consequences which can be grave as a result of complications some of my friends suffered in the hands of such people including death or perforation of the uterus or even sometimes serious infections due to the unsterilised instruments such people use for such procedures in the shanties.
Secondly, the fact that I was not properly married according to our traditional custom before getting pregnant, Implied I had broken a serious taboo that needed ritual cleansing was another headache. Bringing forth such a baby would mean sending a powerful delegation to my family member to apologise on my behalf for the immoral conduct.
In the end I decided to carry the pregnancy to term. What compounded my problem was the fact that I was very short in stature and a teenager in addition. I managed to carry the pregnancy to term but with many difficulties. Through the assistance of the staff members of Street Girls’ Aid, I was able to have a safe delivery, no matter how difficult it was, I have been able to survive the ordeal of being exposed to an unqualified abortion doctor who would have ended up inflicting many complications on my life.