For Ama, the answer to that question could mean the difference between life and death
Sitting on a worn-out couch in her small family home in New Dormaa community in the Sunyani Municipality of the Bono Region of Ghana, Ama (not her real name) speaks with a shaky voice, her eyes constantly scanning the room as if danger could burst through the door at any moment.
The fear in her voice and the tears
Read full articlewelling up in her eyes tell a story that has haunted her family for more than two years—a story of survival, persecution, and love for a brother whose identity has made him a target for hate.
"For the past two years and counting, I have been receiving death threats from angry youth in my community," she begins, clutching her hands together. "They keep demanding to know where my brother, Edem, is. They say he is gay, and they want to kill him."
Ama's brother Edem, once a Military Nurse in the Ghana Armed Forces, now lives in hiding, far from the home he once knew, far from the family that loves him. His crime? Being gay in a country where homosexuality is not only illegal but often met with violence, religious condemnation, and social ostracism.
"Living with the reality that my brother is gay is like hanging a time bomb around your neck. You know it will explode, you're just waiting for the moment," Ama says, her voice filled with sorrow.
A Mob Attack in Accra
In August 2021, Edem was nearly lynched by a mob in Accra Newtown for allegedly kissing another man. A simple display of affection, something most take for granted, became a death sentence in a society where LGBTQ+ individuals are hunted, attacked, and sometimes killed.
"If it weren't for the police that came to his rescue, he and his friend would be dead by now," Ama recounts with a deep sigh. "After that, my mother and I rushed them to the hospital. We spent months taking care of him and his friend named Asante, using up all our savings for medical bills."
But escaping the mob did not mean escaping the nightmare. Word quickly spread through their community and beyond that Edem was gay. Life as they knew it ended. "Since then, we have not had peace. My brother had to resign from his military job because he was being victimized by his colleagues and even his superiors. He couldn't go out without being harassed or attacked. It was like he had a target on his back."
Religious Persecution and Escape
The persecution didn't stop at harassment. The youth in the community, emboldened by local religious leaders, began to call for Edem's death. "The church we attended, the same one that taught us love and forgiveness, started encouraging the youth to attack my brother. They said he was an abomination and deserved to die."
Knowing that Edem’s life was in grave danger, Ama and her mother scraped together what little resources they had to send him out of the country.
"We had to do it quickly. If we didn’t, they would have killed him. We were pressured to act, knowing the church and the youth would not stop until Edem was dead," Ama says, her eyes filled with fear and exhaustion.
Now, Edem lives far away, in a country where he can feel safe. But for Ama and her mother, the nightmare continues. "I can't even go out to buy something without being accused of supporting a gay person in my family. Some have sent me threatening messages saying that if I don’t produce my brother, they will kill me instead. I fear for my life every day."
Abandoned by the Church, Ignored by the Police
The emotional and physical toll on Ama’s family is profound. They have been kicked out of their church, ostracized by a community that once embraced them. "They said we supported a gay person, so we don’t belong anymore. It’s like we’ve been erased from society," Ama says.
Even when they turned to the police for protection, they were met with disdain. "We’ve reported the threats so many times, but the police don’t take us seriously," Ama says. "I remember one officer telling me that I was wasting my time protecting someone like my brother. He said an animal was better than my brother for being gay."
Ama pauses, wiping away tears that fall slowly down her cheeks. "As we speak, my whole family is in danger. The youth can do anything to us, and nothing will happen to them. We are just walking corpses, waiting for the day we’ll be buried. And if my brother ever returns, we will bury him first."
A Nation of Fear and Hatred
Ama’s story is not unique. Across Ghana, many communities have taken matters into their own hands, emboldened by a rising tide of homophobia and the slow legislative process around the Anti-Gay Bill.
The bill, formally known as the Promotion of Proper Human Sexual Rights and Ghanaian Family Values Bill, seeks to criminalize LGBTQI+ activities and penalize individuals and organizations that advocate for their rights. It has garnered strong support from religious leaders, traditional authorities, and segments of the youth. Religious leaders, such as the Church of Pentecost and prominent Islamic clerics, have shown fierce support for the bill, even vowing to vote out any political party that opposes it.
The widespread hostility towards LGBTQ+ individuals has turned Ghana into a place where love can be deadly, and even the suspicion of being gay can result in violence.
In October 2021, the nation was shocked by a viral video showing a 21-year-old man from Nkoranza community in Bono Region of Ghana being violently assaulted by his peers. His alleged crime? Engaging in homosexual activity. The young man, Yaw Barima, was beaten by an angry mob in a room before being dragged to the palace. There, traditional elders forced him to kneel as incantations were chanted over him. As part of the “purification” rites, a sheep was slaughtered, and libations were poured to “cleanse” the community of his supposed transgressions.
Despite the graphic nature of these events, the victim’s family refused to speak out when reached out by our reporter, fearful of further persecution. “Since the day of the incident, we have never had peace,” one family member quietly admitted. “Everywhere we go, people point at us and call us ‘the gay family.’”
Recounting his experience in an emotional conversation through WhatsApp with our reporter, Edem, Ama’s brother, opened up about the trauma he endured after being brutally attacked in Ghana because of his sexual orientation.
"I’m currently in Canada where I have been accepted for my sexual identity and also being protected," Edem shared.
Edem who labeled himself as a bisexual recalled the unbearable ordeal that drove him from his homeland. "After my partner and I had been beaten up and humiliated, life became very unbearable. I was subjected to all sorts of verbal and emotional abuse. Amidst being called names and hooted at, I also received messages from people issuing death threats and insults," he revealed.
The beatings not only scarred him emotionally but also physically. “The beatings left me with an indelible scar on the left side of my cheek. Anytime I look in the mirror, painful and traumatic flashbacks of the events that led to the beating keep running through my mind. This is emotionally and mentally traumatizing.”
Edem's voice trembled with the weight of his experiences as he admitted that returning to Ghana would likely mean the end of his life. "Coming back to the country will only mean the end of my life, based on the continuous threats irate youth are sending to my sister," he said, haunted by the fear that those who once harmed him may target him again.
He therefore earnestly prays and hopes that the Canadian government, in its continued spirit of humanitarian support, would extend the protection and stability he so desperately needs.
Seeking Justice: The Role of NGOs
In the face of this pervasive homophobia, organizations like the Queer Ghana Education Fund (QuGEF) offer a glimmer of hope. Richard Fifehere Kwofie, the Executive Director of QuGEF, is determined to hold perpetrators accountable for the violence inflicted upon LGBTQI+ individuals in Ghana.
He cites the case of Roger, a young gay man who was brutally murdered in the Nabdam community of the Upper East Region for allegedly being a crossdresser, as an example of how justice continues to evade sexual minorities.
“We will continue visiting police stations, reminding officers of their duty, and gathering evidence until someone is held responsible for Roger’s death,” Kwofie states.
While QuGEF is committed to securing justice, Kwofie acknowledges that the attitudes of law enforcement are a significant barrier.
“We have also engaged the Ghana police and the legal institutions on safety and security issues of the sexual and gender minorities that is under increased violence and discrimination. Families of victims of violence and discrimination experiences numerous challenges from stigma and discrimination, verbal/physical abuse and most importantly a sense of humiliation.”
He added “As a community-based organization, as part of our advocacy efforts, we organize capacity building programs and activities for traditional leaders and religious groups to create awareness about mis/disinformation related to the sexual and gender minorities which with no doubt is a community within the general society.”
A Nation at a Crossroads
As the debate over LGBTQI+ rights intensify in Ghana, Ama and countless others like her are caught in the crossfire. They live in constant fear, their only crime being the love and support they offer their gay relatives. For Ama, every day is a battle—not just for survival, but for the right to live in peace.
“If we can’t be protected in our own country, where else can we go?” she asks, her eyes filled with tears.
Ghana stands at a crossroads. Will it continue down a path of intolerance, where people like Ama’s brother are forced into exile for their own safety? Or will it choose a future where every citizen, regardless of their sexual orientation, is afforded the protection and dignity they deserve?
For Ama, the answer to that question could mean the difference between life and death.
