Prematurity Month, November 2015

November 17^th is World Prematurity Day. A day set aside since 2011 to increase awareness on premature births. Babies born before 37 weeks of completed gestation are considered pre-term or premature.  Each year, an estimated 15 million babies are born premature worldwide, a figure said to be increasing (WHO, 2014). These preterm births account for 11.1% of the world's live births out of which 60% occur in South Asia and sub-Saharan Africa.

Babies born too soon face challenges such as risk of infection, breathing difficulties and inadequate feeding. Compounding to the challenges, some of these babies are abandoned by their mothers due to societal myths and perceptions of preterms being cursed. With cost effective measures however, preemies can be given the fighting chance to survive.

The Neonatal Intensive Care Unit of the Tema General Hospital was created a little over 5 years ago by Dr. Agyepong (a pediatrician) to solely serve preterm babies. Still in its infant years the facility has over the years served hundreds of babies irrespective of its current infrastructural and logistic challenges.

Little Big Souls Ghana is a non-profit organisation committed in raising awareness, advocacy and the provision of essential equipment. As part of its advocacy and support objective it has adopted the Neonatal Intensive Care Units (NICU) of the Tema General Hospital. As in previous years, it kicked off its 2015 Prematurity campaign with a fund raising 5km walk on the 31^st of October to usher in the Prematurity Month of November.  There is also the Little Big Souls Angel Ball slated for Saturday, 14^th November 2015.

This year’s fund raising events would be in aid of completing the Kangaroo Care Unit at the Tema General NICU and also getting essential equipment for the unit. The Kangaroo Mother Care (KMC) is a method of care for preterms which involves infants being carried, usually by the mother, with skin to skin contact. It is one of the most cost effective ways to meet baby’s need for warmth, breastfeeding, protection from infection, safety and love in the absence of incubators.

As we mark prematurity month in November remember to think purple. Prematurity is neither a disease nor a curse. It can happen to anyone. Premature babies given the chance can grow to be like all other children born at term. Let’s keep the conversation going. Let’s create the awareness and keep the donations coming in.

For more information on the Angel Ball check https://www.facebook.com/events/1652322118370743/

For more information check https://www.facebook.com/littlebigsoulsghana/

For inspirational stories check http://www.upworthy.com/17-photos-of-adorable-kids-who-were-born-prematurely-now-holding-their-own-baby-pictures

Ohia

Today I saw poverty,

She was clothed in rags, with tattered chale wote on her blistered feet,

Carrying at her back a malnourished sleeping baby.

Today I saw poverty,

He was pushing sacks of rice on a truck,

Mopping sweat off his face,

Straining against his heavy load in the scorching sun.

Today I saw poverty,

She was old and frail,

Sitting under the scorching sun selling her wares of used crocs,

Just to make a few cedis.

Today I saw poverty,

He was about age 11 or 12,

Risking his life in traffic selling lemons,

Should he not be in school?

Today I saw poverty,

In all its splendor and arrogance,

I'm reminded of an inscription I once saw at the back of a trotro,

“Ohia hiɛ fɛlɛfɛlɛ.”

"What At All Do These Feminist Want?"

As a child the only difference I knew that existed between boys and girls was that boys wore shorts, girls wore skirts. Girls wore earrings, boys did not. End of story. I never assumed the brains of boys were different from girls as for example, we competitively aimed at achieving academic excellence in class. If any difference at all was noticed, puberty revealed that girls became curvier on the hips with bigger breasts while boys had flatter chests with straighter waists. Even when some games were assumed to be gender specific there was no discrimination on the play ground as we all played pilolo, police & thief, football,  the cook/house game, chaskele, alikoto among others. 

As we grow however, there appears to be segregation regarding how a boy or girl should act. I recall a male student once told me in senior high school that for a girl, I had too much of an opinion. He didn’t mean it as a compliment. I was visibly surprised. I didn’t think having an opinion on something was the preserve for boys. The first time I was called a feminist was in the university and that was actually my first time of hearing the word. I vaguely recall the issue that led to being called one was about a man beating up his girlfriend over a misunderstanding. I didn’t know who a feminist was yet I didn’t think I needed to be one to express my disgust on the abuse.

Apparently identifying with gender issues and advocating for women empowerment meant one hated men, was bitter, or something of the sort which really is absurd.  I do know however that any woman who is currently enjoying the right to drive, the right to vote, the right to access education, has a say in her reproductive health, is not stoned to death for choosing a sexual partner should give a thought on who a feminist is if they haven’t already. Before writing this I decided to sample the views of women on our empowerment and the advocacy for equity between both genders; below was their responses:

“I simply believe in equality. I'm partial to women not because I'm one but because I love a multidimensional thinker. It's just the way we are built. A woman's thought process when making even the simplest of decisions is a beautiful thing. Why shouldn't such a mind be empowered?” ~ Loretta

“An empowered person is one entrusted with the opportunity and ability to shape a much better world. Women make up approximately half of the world's population therefore it's only prudent that we are empowered too. When a woman is empowered she is in a much better position to make political, social, economic and reproductive decisions for the benefit of herself and the community at large. The ratio of women to men is approximately equal; therefore to systematically decide not to empower one gender means the world loses out by having approximately fifty percent of its population being silent, ignorant and clueless about matters concerning them. Finally empowered men are like mirrors to little boys. Boys look up to them to visualize what empowerment looks like .Little girls deserve the same - an empowered woman to look up to.” ~ Ann

“I believe women should be empowered because that is the key to creating better societies and building better and stronger nations. Children spend a great deal of time with female care givers (be it biological mothers, relatives or foster parents). The impact of women in the formation of children cannot be over emphasized. Thus if we believe children are the future of our societies, then women empowerment becomes an imperative” ~ Agnes

“In this day and age, women need not only to find their voices but be able to use them. I imagine a world where every woman and girl can go to school, live free from violence, is free to make decisions and choices of her own and not be judged unfairly just because she is a woman. A woman should also be able to receive equal pay for same work done and be given same opportunities given to her male counterpart if she qualifies.

I stand for the empowerment of women and girls because I believe that downplaying the role of an empowered woman in contributing to the socio-economic development of her community are akin to failing to make use of the full potential of humankind in making the world a better place.” ~ Fanny

“Why do I call myself a feminist? First of all, I am woman and I enjoy being a woman. I wouldn’t want it any other way. Secondly, I love being respected and loved. I don’t think it is fair to disrespect a person based on gender. Why should that be? Gender as a basis for respect and equal treatment is not acceptable in any form. I believe every woman deserves to be treated fairly and I stand strongly and firmly against all forms of abuse.

Feminism came naturally to me when I heard these words: “Women are our own enemies” How do I become the exception I wondered? By sticking to my fellow women to fight against all forms of disrespect and injustice. I would rather stand with my fellow women to deal with our social problems than to sit in my comfort zone and raise my hands to God and say “Lord I thank you I do not have to go through what my fellow woman is going through”.

I am sticking to my fellow women and that is what I mean when I call myself a feminist. Men and women are not the same, I respect our differences but there is no way I will condone any man or woman who wants to make another woman feel worthless just because she was born a woman.

Allow a woman to be happy, just as she wants to be. There is absolutely nothing you can do about a woman who appreciates herself and loves being who she is. She is a woman, you cannot change that.” ~ Esenam

Until about 120 years ago women were not allowed to perform the simple task of driving where countries like Saudi Arabia still deny their women this right. Our country just like in many parts of the world is one kind of a paradox when it comes to issues regarding gender. In one breath men can profess their admiration for vocal, intelligent and self sufficient women. Then in another breath become jittery to state that a woman who speaks her mind, expresses her thoughts and position on an issue is overbearing.  That an empowered wife should suddenly become mute in the presence of her husband else challenging him on anything leaves him emasculated.

So I wonder, what is the issue? Do men bleed red and women bleed green? Do men have grey matter in their heads while that of women are yellow? What justifies the notion that one gender cannot be equal to the other? Of course, in terms of our physical and biological make up a man cannot get pregnant neither can a woman produce sperms which is undisputable – unless scientists decide to manipulate our bodies to prove otherwise. Aside that what justifies the situation where a woman occupying the same job position with her male counterpart, a position which has the same job description ends up with her male counterpart being paid higher than the woman albeit the fact that they both churn the same results?

And is it not quite ironic that the same people who ask “what at all do these feminists want” look forward to having daughters (if they don’t already) who should be intelligent, assertive and confident in life? Where exactly do you intend your daughters to live if you are already questioning her right to occupy a world of equity even before she reaches her own age of self discovery, self enlightenment and self understanding?

So for those who are always quick to ask “what at all do these feminist want?” here is my answer: I want to raise my daughter in a world where to rape a woman is not fair game. I want to raise my daughter in a world where accessing education is a norm and not a privilege. I want to raise my daughter in a world where she can express herself intelligently, confidently and sexually without any prejudice. And yes, sexually because in certain countries a woman accused of adultery is stoned to death while the man she commits the so called crime with is usually left alone without a scratch. Tell me, does that even make sense? It takes two to tango therefore what is good for the goose should also be good for the gander.

Finally, feminism is not about attacking the opposite sex. Feminism is not about belittling the capabilities of men. Men do have their own capabilities in contributing to a meaningful society which is much appreciated. But while we respect the contributions of men for a progressive society we also need to advocate against women being put down, being made to keep mute in their marital homes, paid less than their male counterparts for the same job done. Feminism is just about stating the obvious which mankind has chosen to complicate for ages: men and women are equal. Given equal opportunity men and women can function on the basis of equity to shape a much better world. Thankfully Ghana has made some significant progress in gender equity but we still have a lot of work to do.

So the next time you ask “what at all do these feminists want?”. . . 

Rare Species Inhabiting Ghana

It’s 6:00 am on a working day. You are standing at a bus stop lost in thoughts while waiting for the next available trotro. Out of nowhere comes a huge blob of spittle that lands almost on your shoes. You look up in horror ready to vent and launch an attack on that uncouth culprit. Relax my friend; you just encountered one of the rare species of human spitting cobras inhabiting Ghana.

Nothing, absolutely nothing, gives me great consternation than encountering a human spitting cobra. I am still trying to understand why some Ghanaians spit about indiscriminately; probably it’s a cultural attitude that can best be explained by a sociologist. I used to think it was something that only less educated folks, market women and fishmongers engaged in. Or a thing people who chewed dental sponges/sticks did as it made them salivate a lot. Apparently these categories of people were not the only culprits of this offense as you would find smartly dressed men and women letting out streams of spittle out of windows of a troskis. How disgusting!

As one walks through most public places in Accra he or she can be promised of a visual assault of the different colors, shapes and consistency of sputum dotting sidewalks, pavements and walkways. These culprits from men, women to children engage in this disgusting act shamelessly without regard for the people around. So bad is this practice that hospitals have not been spared either. Owing to this, University of Ghana Hospital has a sign in English and other local languages prohibiting people from spitting on their premises, which of course have fallen on deaf ears.

Considering the fact that some diseases are communicable through droplets infection in sputum this widespread practice is very detrimental to our health. One sure way of riding this city and country of such a despicable habit is for municipal and city authorities to spot-fine offenders; who knows, it might generate more revenue to support our falling cedi and ailing economy. Now that is homegrown solution right there... Oh snap! 

Knowing how things work in these parts looks like a spot fine (enforced to the latter) would only happen in my dream. 

How the Tortoise Got Its Cracked Shell... Not

One of the many unwritten duties of being an aunt is keeping your nephews and nieces entertained/distracted; it doesn’t matter which form it takes as long as it keeps them out of their mum’s hair.  On one of such “aunty duties” I decided to tell my nieces, *Sika and *Fafa a story explaining how the tortoise had a cracked shell.

This popular folklore tells the tale of how the tortoise was doing well in his habitat until he started starving as a result of a famine that plagued his habitat. His friends, the birds on the other hand were able to have their fill by flying off to greener pastures in search for food and back. Subsequently Mr. Tortoise managed to convince them to take him with them on their next trip however there was a little setback - Mr. Tortoise could not fly. The birds therefore hatched a plan; Mr. Tortoise would hang from a stick by the mouth by which each bird would carry one end of the stick with Mr. Tortoise hanging in the middle.

The following day Mr. Tortoise was airborne.  Half way through the journey he looked down and saw a human staring in amazement at the sky upon seeing a flying-tortoise. Mr. Tortoise forgetting himself decided to ‘brag’ by which he fell out of the sky and landed on his shell thereby shattering it to many pieces. “And that is how the tortoise got its cracked shell” I finished my story with a flourish.

Fafa clapped excitedly whilst Sika just gave me a quiet puzzled look. I then followed up by asking whether Sika enjoyed the story or not by which she responded it was nice but did not understand why the birds decided to carry Mr Tortoise. She added it was impossible as the tortoise was very heavy.

Now it was my turn to look stunned. I recovered quickly enough to respond “well of course they could”, I insisted, “they were big birds”. She then followed with “but Auntie Yvonne the birds can’t carry the tortoise for such a long time without getting tired. Besides it was only one tortoise that got its shell cracked; what about all the other tortoises that existed? How did their shell crack and how did future tortoises get their cracked shells?”.  Whilst I was pondering how a simple folklore had suddenly turned into a turn-the-heat-up-on-your-aunt, her mum quickly came to my rescue by telling her she was over analyzing a simple story hence ruining it.

At the time Sika was only 8 years old. Her query got me thinking; this was just a story why did she have to ask all those questions?  Why couldn’t she just accept it just as it was and move on?

I was also told this story as a child but do not remember questioning it; I accepted it as it was. It was only after a couple of biology lessons on Darwin’s theory, genetics and evolution that got me thinking otherwise. Apparently not even my age or being an aunt to Fafa was going to “intimidate” her to give me a pass to spin a tale and get away with it.

This isn’t to say those who believed such folklores didn’t know better; heck I believed it once. But it got me thinking about how society and our culture of accepting things at face value because a so-called “expert” said so could be to our detriment. We live in a society that does not encourage people especially our young ones to think, analyze situations and seek clarification.

This is even worse when it comes to our religious practices. We like to adopt the don’t-try-to-understand-just-believe approach hence we have supposed men of God/pastors preaching very ridiculous messages and doctrines, perpetuating the biggest kind of fraud on people, wreaking havoc on homes but who are you to question? Do you want to challenge “God’s” messenger? But well, Matthew 7:7 says “Ask, and you will receive; seek, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened to you”. Maybe this might be coming from a different God.

On daily basis we have people go on radio and on television to spew the most ridiculous things/theories on pertinent issues and yet most people accept such things without questioning because the speaker is a supposed “expert” in the field therefore his/her words must be taken hook, line, sinker. People are being ripped off by Ponzi schemes; business deals that promise 300% returns with many jumping on board without questioning “what’s the catch?”  

Children are naturally inquisitive yet somehow along the line a good number in our society have been denied the opportunity to question unsettling dogmas hence we are increasingly witnessing individuals who on paper are educated yet cannot think for themselves.

In conclusion I had to eat humble pie and tell Sika it was just a story and that all the questions she raised were valid; one cracked shell from a failed supposedly flying experience didn’t explain how all other tortoises had cracked shells but instead genetics and evolution could explain it. While mentally shelving all the other “wonderful” stories I had about how the tiger had its strips, why the giraffe had a long neck and why the rabbit had a short tail because obviously she had outgrown the fairytale/folklore stage.

If it does not make sense by all means seek clarification, what’s the worst that could happen?

NB: *Names have been changed to protect the identity of minors.

THE MARKET REPORT

GAR (now Unique FM) back in the late 1990s had a segment on their Friday morning show called market report with Komivi Amekor. On the market report prices of foodstuff across almost all the markets in Accra was announced; from Makola to Agbogbloshie to Malate market. Komivi read the market report in a sing song-like voice unique only to him and that was his signature on that segment. From the price of an olanka of gari to a bucket of tomatoes, a sack of maize, a bucket of cassava dough, a bunch of plantain to a tuber of yam; you name the food stuff and Komivi would give you the market report. My mum never missed the market report and yet she always chose to shop at Makola and a few occasions Agbogbloshie, even if prices at Makola were slightly higher than the other markets and I never understood that, probably a force of habit which I have unconsciously also learned.

My mum started going to the market with me when I was about age eleven, for me it was an adventure. She would let me hold the market bag till it became heavy then she took over. The sights and sounds of Makola always thrilled me. Market women sitting behind their wares at Makola number 2, shouting to passers-by to come buy their fresh produce while others carry their wares on their head in a pan and actively search for customers. You deserve to be flogged if as a Ghanaian you don’t know how to bargain at the market! It is almost an inborn trait that is horned as one grows older and my mum had perfected that skill. Her back and forth with traders always left me in awe, and she always got good bargains. It wasn’t all fun and joy though when my mum would make us walk further just to get a commodity at a perceived better price and sometimes there wasn’t much difference in the initial offer and what we finally got it at (why mothers do that I just wouldn’t understand). In circumstances like that all one could do was frown and scowl to show displeasure. Irrespective of that I looked forward to my weekly trip to the market with my mum when I was on vacation. Through that I got to know all the nooks and crannies of Makola but I hated Agbogbloshie market. My sister didn’t fare very well on her initiation into the “mother-daughter going to the market” moment but that is a story for another day.

Going to the market these days is less fun, too much human traffic, high levels of noise and filth spilling into the streets. I hardly see mothers with young girls in tow anymore. Going to the market with a child these days is more stressful plus increasing transport fares just doesn’t encourage the practice. Besides as an emerging middle class nation going to the mall with our children is trendier and comparatively safer as compared to them tagging along in the over-populated streets of Makola, Agbogbloshie or Malate where almost everyone is pushing and jostling you.

I don’t hear Komivi’s market report on radio anymore – not that it would make any difference in my purchasing pattern considering the rate at which the prices of food and other commodities keeps galloping – but it formed part of my reasons for loving radio and I miss going to the market with my mum. Times have changed indeed.