Tag Archives: Kasoa


Accra has been flooding. Geez, this is October. People have lost their houses, property, a lot! It’s been outrageous. Oh, dear me! It just started again, the rain! It’s 2minutes after midnight on the 31st of October.

Flooded Accra
Flooded Accra

I’m in Accra. Last week, when the floods swept the city, I was in Takoradi. The whole thought that I had just left Accra two days earlier was some weird thing for me. When I came back here, I saw the streets had been swept clean of all the nonsense we throw on them but again, I saw that more than just nonsense was gone. Lives too!

My sister told me a tale on strange tides from where she had come. It was sickening. This is it. A woman had been driven out of her house by the flood waters at Kasoa. She was holding a baby and the current was strong enough for her to despair whether they were going to make it. Between her house and the safe place was a drain and a tree. She wanted to get to the tree and hold on to it without being pulled away by the rising waters, pity. There were people on the other side who wanted to help her with her baby but the current was strong and none could cross the drain. Then this desperation caused the woman to think: let me hurl my baby across to safety and then I can muddle the current to grab the tree. It breaks my heart now even….

People were ready on the other side to grab her baby and so she threw her baby across the drain. A mother’s desperation to save her baby so she could be the only sacrifice if she doesn’t make it! At least, let the baby live. And with the force of the current now, she couldn’t hold the baby and grasp the tree effectively. They’d all be swept away.

Her baby fell in the drain!

Oh God.

And got carried away! Swept away!

The woman clung onto the tree for dear life. I can’t come to imagine how she felt holding that tree like one crucified, unable to jump in after her baby, how she will live the rest of her life knowing that she was the last line of defence for her baby’s life. Her baby died.
I’m so sorry for this woman. This is a sorrowful episode. I don’t know her, have never seen her, don’t even know her name. But if I think about what a child means to a woman, it’s all too heart-breaking.

It’s 20 minutes after midnight now and the rains are getting stronger. This is the kind that could easily flood again. I don’t know how much we will have to endure and for how long but I will stay up tonight and observe how much rain will fall. And I will pray. That is sometimes the only tool you have, looking out of your bedroom window in the dead night at the droplets coming down with no intention to stop.

I hope no one dies again. I pray.