She is an ubiquitous feature of many a Ghanaian household. The madam of the house surely cannot do all the cleaning, cooking and childcare that make a family home run smoothly. How else would she enjoy a quality life? A family member back in the village is therefore tasked to find madam a house help- an abaawa, or maid, as we refer to them back home. Of course some homes have both an abaawa and a houseboy, but relatively speaking, it appears the abaawa is the prevalent domestic worker in Ghana.
Usually, she (and it is almost always a she) is young, uneducated, rural and from a poor family. Her family back in the village sees her departure for the city as a wonderful opportunity to improve her life, and they are grateful for having one mouth less to feed. So if the abaawa misbehaves (maybe by stealing madam’s powder or being too friendly with the houseboy next door) and madam sends her back in a fit of rage, a whole delegation may be dispatched to beg madam to take her back, with a stern warning to abaawa to remember the poverty in the village, and how she should be grateful for her breakthrough. Sometimes, an agreement is reached with the abaawa’s parents that she would be allowed to learn a trade (usually as a seamstress) in return for her services, and of course she will enjoy free food and accommodation. Sometime ago, it was common to buy your abaawa a sewing machine when the children were all grown up and she had come to the end of her service. These days, some families agree to allow the child to go to school and to bear responsibility for the fees.
The abaawa’s lot once she migrates from the rural to the urban can be an interesting and varied one. The sad fact is that whilst many families treat their abaawa reasonably well, there are a great many that see themselves as benefactors to these girls, having ‘rescued’ them from village life. This, they feel, entitles them to treat the abaawa how they like, rather than as a human being. Regular beatings for minor mishaps, poorer quality food than the rest of the family eat, and long hours of work are some the staples some abaawas endure. Meanwhile, the children of the family prance about like little princes and princesses, the spoilt brats that they are and who hardly lift a finger-abaawa would do everything, from washing, cooking, cleaning and anything else that needs doing. In some cases, the abaawa may end up scandalously migrating into madam’s husband’s bed, especially if she is the one always doing the cooking and washing and cleaning for master, and therefore playing the role of the traditional Ghanaian wife to him in any event, whilst madam paints her nails and her face all day long. After all, what Ghanaian man does not like his ego massaged? But we shall not go there yet-that is another ‘nkonkonsa’ story.
The concept of an abaawa in abrokyir does of course exist, but the dynamics are different. First of all is the issue of affordability. Who is going to give you their pre-puberty child to live with you and clean after you for free? After all, how poor can you be in a western country to send your child to another person as an abaawa or houseboy? In any event, due to stringent child labour protection laws, the issue does not even crop up.
Only the well-off in western countries can afford full-time domestic workers living in their home, because you have to pay them proper salaries, including social security contributions, sick pay, holiday pay etc- all the works. Childcare costs are sky-high and the service is provided by professionals. Most middle-class people have cleaners coming over a few hours in a week to tidy up their homes, especially if they lead busy lives. And yes, there will be a proper employment contract. And in the west, you cannot threaten to curtail your cook or cleaner’s employment abruptly, because to do so without just cause and with proper written notice would mean being dragged to an employment tribunal as if over a bed of live coals and being slapped with hefty damages.
Now, some Ghanaians living abroad with young children may find the cost of childcare exorbitant and may therefore decide to bring over their mother from home to help take care of the children whilst they go out to work. But sometimes the mothers do not stay too long because they have no friends abroad, have left their work or businesses home, or their ‘old man’ husband is waiting impatiently for them back home for some tender loving care. After a few months, especially when the cold weather is rearing its head, they may scurry away back home, lest their ‘sasaboro’ (rheumatism) be compromised further. So it may be wiser to bring a younger relative-usually a sister or cousin who is not tied down with her own family and would actually jump at the opportunity. Whilst this can be a clever way of making the best of both worlds and provide some peace of mind, it can also lead to some colourful fireworks in the family home.
For one, the one bringing the relative over believes that aside everything, he or she is doing a great favour. After all, how many people in Ghana would not happily sell up their mother for a pittance or sever their right arm for the opportunity to travel abroad? So the would-be carer is excited at the prospect of going abroad, even if it is just to help her sister or cousin as an upgraded abaawa.
Eventually, however, the novelty of having arrived abroad wears off, of course, and the reality of caring for two or three boisterous, mischievous young children dawns on ‘Sister’ from Ghana, for it can be tiring. Obviously, because they came over to help with the children, the issue of them working independently outside the family home does not arise. In return for their help, their host sister or cousin will of course provide meals and lodging and also buy them basic things from time to time.
But no condition is permanent, and our sister from home also has eyes to see the nice things in the shops-all those designer wear, lovely stilettos and cute bags, for her eyeballs are not made of glass or plastic. Of course she will at a point covet these items, and then sigh wistfully that she cannot afford them, not because she is lazy and does not want to work, but simply because she is unable to. She is totally reliable on her sister or cousin or aunt for all her needs, and she can’t really ask for $200 to buy a bag, can she?
If she has made friends or been in touch with some old friends she has hooked up with, they will slowly drip poison in her ear. ‘Are you a maidservant?’ they would hiss at her. ‘Akua’, they would tell her, ‘Remember this is America, not Ghana. No one is allowed to use your labour without paying you properly. It is slavery. If it was me, I would leave the house and find a proper job. She does not even buy you nice clothes’, they would look her up and down disdainfully in her frumpy clothes as they dangle on their funky, impossibly high heals, swathed in jewels and cheap perfume.
Akua sees sense in her friends’ advice, and begins to seethe and resent her sister. Slowly the steam builds up, and you can cut through the tension with a blunt machete. The stage is set for an inevitable, apocalyptic confrontation, and true to form, the sparks light up one day. Whilst Akua feels she is being exploited, her sister expresses incredulity that Akua does not appreciate the fact that she paid for her ticket and brought her over from Ghana, gives her free food and accommodation, and yet is being accused of exploitation because Akua helps with the children. Eventually, the falling out grows like a wide canyon, and Akua leaves her sister’s house, sometimes with feelings running deep on both sides, which can take ages to reconcile.
So who is right? Akua or her sister? Is her sister exploiting her? Or is Akua simply being ungrateful? Is the abaawa back home is an exploited species? Or should she feel grateful and lucky for having escaped the clutches of poverty in the village and making it to the city or town? Is it wise or proper to apply western perceptions of exploitation to these situations when the factors at play are so markedly different?
Of course there are no clear, easy answers.
This is an excerpt from the Rodney Nkrumah-Boateng’s new book, Abrokyir Nkomo: Reflections of A Ghanaian Immigrant. It was released in Ghana in May 2009. The book is being launched in London, UK at 3.30pm on 19th July 2009. Venue: The Gold Coast Bar, 40 Acre Lane, Brixton, London SW2 5SP. Invitations are open.
