West African Journal: Where Teenagers Do Chores

KUMASI, Ghana—Our Western culture is no longer dictated by tradition, not even by pragmatism. Consumerism is the driving force behind modern life. Baby bottles, disposable diapers, strollers, and a giant box of broken toys—these things reflect our values. And they’re all things you won’t find commonly in Ghana.

Ghanaian child rearing is in some regards as it has been for hundreds of years, though it also includes fetid remnants of the draconian British school system of the 1800s.

Keeping Abreast of the Times

When a Ghanian child is born, they stay indoors with their mother for the first three or four months. Mom moves back in with her mother during this time so that she and the child can rest and gain strength.

There is almost no instance in which a mother would be separated from her child for eight to ten hours a day and handed over to a stranger. Several women in my neighbourhood have disappeared after having babies. They took a year „off“ to nurse the child at their mother’s place. Taking a year off is a sensible plan we in Canada just adopted in 2001 and our American cousins have yet to clue into. (If only my mother would let me move back in.)

Everyone breastfeeds here, anytime, anywhere, and without any self-consciousness. Before British rule, women in Ghana didn’t cover their breasts. The breast is still sort of a non-issue here, an uninteresting baby-food machine. And bra wearing is optional.

Nowadays women cover up as the modern world dictates, but there’s one exception: at slightest squeak, a woman feels free to lift up her shirt or pull out her breast and pop it into junior’s mouth while she rides the bus, eats, sleeps in the back of her shop, or roasts corn by the side of the road. She need not scuttle off in shame to the nearest stinking restroom with no chair and sit on a toilet to nurse, nor live confined in her house like a prisoner until junior is weaned.

Bring Your Kid to Work Day, Every Day

Around the time a child is eight or nine months old and has grown strong enough, many women begin to engage in some part-time work. For working class women, baby comes along, strapped to mom’s back with a cloth. From hard labour—like selling or hauling things on their heads—to sewing or cooking by the roadside, you will see junior strapped behind in a colourful cloth. In North America, this sort of thing is talked about in books on advanced „attachment parenting.“ In Ghana, it’s just everyday life.

Professional women here are quite similar to North Americans, leaving their children in nurseries, all day. And did I mention that junior kindergarten is almost a full day here? (How wonderful!)

Read all Zöe Ackah’s adventures at West African Journal

Lose the Landfill

When I came to Ghana, my twin daughters were almost two and still in diapers, much to the dismay of my mother-in-law. „In diapers at two? Unheard of!“

Women here use a method called „infant elimination“ (again, something you’ll find books on in North America). Ghanaians use cues given by the baby to determine when to aim junior’s bottom at the grass so he or she can „eliminate.“ And somehow they train the young children to pee at certain times (how exactly, I haven’t learned—my girls were too old to learn when I arrived).

The result is that there’s no such thing as toilet training in Ghana. Children only wear diapers until they can walk, at which time they are given a cute little pot, and can take care of themselves.

But being that my girls were older, I had the fortune of educating my family on how to toilet train a toddler, which they found rather barbaric and cruel. „I said sit! Sit on the pot!“

„Pot by force?“ commented my mother in law. „Who could go?“

Who indeed.

Spankers!

Ghanaians are spankers. The first thing a child will learn to say is „ma bowo!“ (meaning „I’ll beat you“). It is said in fun, and people think it’s cute when children say it. They pinch, slap, belt and cane children here starting around age four or five. It is harsh. They are raised the way our parents were—“spare the rod,“ „seen and not heard,“ and so on.

This seems to really shut down honest dialogue between children and their parents. It also contributes to a habit of lying, which seems to carry into adulthood for some people. People here are very polite, and will tell you what they think you want to hear—it just may not be the truth. I’m getting used to it.

On the other hand, Ghanaian children are afforded incredible independence. You will see a four-year-old walk two blocks to the store by himself, buy something small, and return to give it to his mother. You’ll see a seven-year-old babysit a two-year-old, a 12 year-old cook a complete meal, and if you have a teenager, better believe it, they do all the housework—on their own!

North American parents, put your tongues back in your mouths. Breathe. Every word is true. A teenager will wake up early, fetch water, sweep the compound, iron her school uniform, shower, eat, and arrive at the foot of your bed to demand her daily allowance before 6:30 a.m. Mom, you can sleep through it all but the „canteen money“ part if you wish.

And did you know children 10 years of age here hand wash their own laundry? Mom only does laundry for the little kids.

The downside: men here don’t do anything around the house. Ever, ever. Ever. Nothing. It is considered an abomination for a man to be touched by a broom. I guess men are the babies here. There, I said it.

Canadian Epoch Times correspondent Zoë Ackah is spending a year in rural Ghana. This story is part of a series, West African Journal, in which Zoe shares her culture shock and her thoughts on life in one of West Africa’s more prosperous nations.