By Adingoom Queen Elizabeth
In Bawku, a town in the Upper East Region of Ghana, the sound of gunshots that once echoed through the streets has slowly been replaced by the hum of daily life. But for many women who depend on petty trading to feed their families, the return of peace is bittersweet. They spent a year in fear, their businesses paralyzed by the violent conflict that gripped their community. Now, as calm returns to Bawku, they carry the scars of the past and an unwavering hope for a better future and an increased revenue for the Municipal Assembly.
Mary Naani, a vegetable vendor, stands by her stall, quietly adjusting her tomatoes and peppers. She says her heart aches every time there’s a gunshot in the distance. The sound is all too familiar, and it often means losing her goods as the market empties in fear. For Mary, survival has meant navigating a constant state of instability.
“We never know when the fighting will start,” she shares, eyes downcast. “But we do what we have to. We just hope the peace lasts this time.”
Her story is echoed by many others in the market. Fuseina, a doughnut seller, used a loan from a local susu group to start her small business. But with the conflict taking a toll on her sales, she couldn’t pay off the loan before the year’s end. “I was so hopeful last year,” she says with a soft smile, “but then the shooting started, and my customers disappeared. I couldn’t make enough to pay back what I owed.”
For Zakari Ayisha, the stakes were even higher. A mother of three, Zakari sells tomatoes, onions, yams, and greens in the market to support her children. But with the market empty and her goods unsold, some days were simply too hard to bear.
“There were days my children went to bed hungry because I didn’t have enough to feed them. It was heartbreaking,” she shares.
The lack of income meant that even the small necessities became a struggle, like sending her children to school with lunch money. The conflict had robbed her not only of income but of the peace every mother yearns for.
Azurebis, another tomato seller, faced similar losses. She has five children, and during the worst of the conflict, they would sometimes flee when the violence erupted, leaving behind their goods. “It was devastating. We would return to find everything gone,” she says, her eyes reflecting the exhaustion of countless sleepless nights. But now, with the peace process underway, she expresses cautious optimism. “I’m happy to see the peace returning. We pray it lasts.”
The women of Bawku, despite their pain, carry on. Their strength is an inspiration, but their voices reveal a deep yearning for stability. They speak with cautious optimism after hearing the message loud and clear at the 38th Samampiid Festival: “Peace in Bawku is non-negotiable.” The festival, which was attended by dignitaries such as NDC National Chairman Johnson Aseidu Nketia, and local chiefs, was a call to action for lasting peace in the area.
Aseidu Nketia, speaking to the youth, urged them not to be instruments of conflict but to stand as stakeholders in peace. His words resonated deeply with the people of Bawku, especially the women, whose lives had been torn apart by the violence.
“We need to look beyond the conflict,” he said, “and work towards a future where everyone can trade in peace and support their families without fear.”
The Otumfuo Mediation Report, which has received support from the government, promises a glimmer of hope. It pledges to address the root causes of the conflict and bring about a lasting peace in Bawku. For the women, it’s a beacon of hope that they can once again feed their families, put their children in school, and rebuild the community.
As Adingoom Queen Elizabeth, a local journalist, interacts with these resilient women, she sees a shared determination in their eyes. They’ve endured the worst, but they haven’t given up. All they want now is to return to their stalls, to be able to sell their goods without fear, and to raise their children in a peaceful environment.
For them, peace isn’t just a political promise. It’s a lifeline. And now, as the market slowly fills with activity once again, the women of Bawku hold on to the hope that this time, peace will finally take root.
