The Side We Choose to See

By Abena Antwi Angel-Zoe Foundation

This book gives a breathtakingly vivid account of twelve stories of women who are incarcerated in Ghana, West Africa. The narration combines real life stories with a tinge of fiction to keep the reader continuously engaged to the point of falling off their seat, in shock. Each narration is unique with regards to the story line and draws out intricate details of how the crimes were perpetuated by the imprisoned women some of who still profess their innocence.

Based on the stories beautifully narrated, relevant thoughts and lessons are drawn out based on the Author's perspective. The reader is also given an opportunity to make judgements for themselves after immersing themselves into a particular story.

The stories are different yet they are interwoven by one theme: Crime.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Aug 13, 2013
• ISBN: 9781481769372

Abena Antwi Angel-Zoe Foundation

This Author has, for the past six years been working as the Executive Director of a Civil Society Organization which works with women and juveniles in prison and also inmates of a shelter for abused children. Even though in her line of work she deals with crime and often serious issues, in her work as an author, she shows her sassy, exciting and humour self as she narrates intriguing stories of the amazing yet criminally-minded women she has met whiles working to represent their interests. Her writing career is one to watch as she explores the rather intimate yet daunting connection between women's vulnerabilities and tendencies for criminal behaviour in a third world setting. Her work oozes of passion and candour. No issue is left unexplored; sex, murder, armed robbery, motherhood.......

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© 2013 by Abena Antwi Angel-Zoe Foundation. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 07/19/2013

ISBN: 978-1-4817-6936-5 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4817-6937-2 (e)

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only. Author’s image by Steven Adusei Photography

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

Preface

1. Haunted

2. Addiction

3. A Tale Of Friendship Gone Awry

4. The Supportive Wife

5. Penmanship

6. Beauty Robs

7. Human Trafficking, My Business

8. Burdened With Guilt

9. Missing The Spot

10. Stampede

11. You Know Me, You Know Me Not

12. Beauty And The Beast

References And Further Reading

Organizations And Online Sites

About The Author

PREFACE

One day we will all have a story to tell about our lives. In our narration to generations born and unborn, I am sure the stories of our lives will be told to amuse, educate, enlighten and most importantly, impart the lives of those who will hear our stories. From beginning to end, our stories will contain details about the people, events, places and experiences that influenced us greatly in propelling us into making the choices made. Reflections will be made on important turning points in our lives and lessons gleaned may be shared or not.

Generally, from the onset we were hopeful that our lives will turn out well, that our decisions were the right ones and our regrets minimal. But some of us when narrating our stories will be beset with regret, sorrow, euphoria, contentment, sadness, displeasure, gratitude and a cocktail of other emotions. Understandably not all decisions made may have had the desired results but would you have learnt from the experience well enough to recount them to others?

I first conceived the idea of this book three years prior to the time I actually started writing it. I was confined in my annual internal struggle to document all my thoughts about experiences gathered from my humanitarian work with prisoners and abused children. Indeed, I thought I had seen and heard enough to write my impressions down if not for anything, for posterity sake.

It is a known fact that human beings continue to grow and develop for the rest of their lives. This means that regardless of where one finds him or herself, given the opportunity for growth nature will take its course. This development may take place in a developed or developing country, secluded corner of the earth, in an inhibited space or in a confinement. The choice ultimately remains with us to allow growth and development. This process, sometimes difficult presents us with the opportunity to lend ourselves to the various transitions and adaptations required to grow and develop. The various transitions and adaptations gone through by the women in this book have given them the courage to share their stories. The stories you are about to read take on various themes and issues affecting women today especially those in deprived areas of the world. Some of these issues are sex, motherhood, abuse, deprivation, torture and a host of others.

Due to security and prejudicial reasons, the names of the actual characters in this book have been changed. It will be easy to judge the people whose stories you are about to read but caution must be exercised because it could have been you in those situations and what would you have done differently?

The stories of the women in this book have been captured through personal interviews and interactions from seven prisons in Ghana, West Africa. These women are serving various sentences ranging from death row, life and a minimum of six months.

I call this book, a labour of love and I mean it as a pun because all my faculties have been stretched; my physical being has been tasked, my instincts have been honed, my fears heightened and abated, my joys increased and my hopes raised. I have glowered at fear and sometimes evil in the face and have come out victorious. I urge you to capture the very essence of these stories and make changes where needed in your life as one day we will all have stories to tell of our time spent on earth. In the course of working on the project, I was fortunate enough to have the assistance of exceptional people who have showed me love and support.

Special thanks go to Kwadwo, my doting husband who has supported my dreams to this point. The lengths he has gone to support me and Angel-Zoe Foundation have sometimes surprised me. To Nana and Maame, I love you.

To my parents, I owe tons of love and gratitude which are immeasurable. It has not been an easy road for all us but the ideals instilled in me in my childhood have paid off. Not surprising in the least, I suppose.

The authorities of the Ghana Prisons Service have demonstrated such support that has often left me speechless and I want to take this opportunity to thank you. The objectives of writing this book will definitely be achieved and many will come to gain better understanding of the great work you strive to do each day. You are my unsung heroes and heroines.

To all who have supported my dream, often called ‘Unconventional but necessary’ I owe a depth of appreciation which can never be expressed in words. Angel-Zoe Foundation has reached this hilt due to the loyalty of family and friends, and the kindness of strangers.

To the various contributors of this book and dedicated volunteers, I salute you. I respect the courage exhibited by each person, I am grateful to you for your commitment and perceptive critiques of the foundation.

To you who have purchased and are reading this book, I assure you that your contribution is valuable and highly appreciated. Though most of the stories recorded are unsettling, there are thousands of people who have been reformed after spending time in prison and are living useful lives.

And most importantly, to the God I serve, who knows all the secrets in each person’s heart, you know what is hidden in mine-Gratitude.

HAUNTED

‘I can’t sleep, can’t weep and can’t eat… .’ muttered the eighty-something year old woman accused of killing her husband. She had a forlorn expression on her face as she shifted ever so slightly in her seat, readying herself for the narration that will leave observers numb and listeners speechless.

I was married at an early age of twenty to my husband, Paul. He lived in the next town from mine but we had occasionally met at durbars organised for both towns. Our attraction to each other was instant and not long after our initial acquaintance we fell in love and started dating. I realised after my first visit to his family that I was not welcomed; the reason being that there was another lady from Paul’s town who the family preferred. Their families had been age-old friends and from their childhood, family members had casually betrothed her to him. Frankly I could not be bothered by the hostility I felt from their not-so-subtle snares and innuendoes. None of these dissuaded me from falling deeper in love with him. I was respectful in my interactions with each person I came into contact with. What did they know about how we felt about each other, anyway?

My family was totally taken with Paul. He had a way of enchanting everybody he met including my very strict mother. He could charm my younger siblings with his boyish looks and funny quips which left all laughing to tears. Yes, that was my Paul, so sweet.

In those earlier years, long-term dating was not encouraged and so a few months of seeing each other and we were married. We settled in a simple rented house in Paul’s town. I got pregnant two months into our marriage. I was thrilled (she giggles), as she continues. In those days, women were not expected to work and that meant I could relax and enjoy the pregnancy process; the vomiting, the restlessness, the exhilaration of the baby’s kicks and of course, the aches and pains. Paul was thrilled and worked even harder on the farm to provide for me and our unborn child. We had our first child, a son. I was a good mother and wife. In the sixteen years that ensued, we had nine children. I loved all my children dearly and my love for Paul over those years had not waned. We both went through so many physiological changes due to growth but were happy to be together. Along the way, we had three more children. Taking care of twelve children and maintaining a happy home was not an easy feat. I was constantly tired and disoriented but Paul and the children did not notice. Truthfully speaking, I was not as heartbroken as Paul was when we lost our first child. Our children grew up nicely, exhibiting different characteristics reminiscent of either Paul or myself.

By the time I turned sixty and Paul sixty-four, five more of our children had died from various causes. Still I remained restrained and confounded all my grief to myself. My marriage to Paul grew ever so strong and my children rendered support to us in whatever way they could. At the turn of my seventieth birthday, I had ten grandchildren who brought me joy whenever they visited. Due to old age and the constant worry expressed by our children, four of them moved into our spacious and newly built home.

That night… .

The weather was breezy and held great promise for a late