By Alex Ababio
A Bowl of Water for Breakfast
Six-year-old Aisha sits cross-legged on a torn mat outside a crumbling wooden structure in Krofrom, a densely packed slum community in Kumasi. She clutches a plastic cup filled with murky water. That’s her breakfast. Her mother, Mariam Alhassan, a single mother of eight, stirs a pot of gari with trembling hands, trying to soften it enough for the youngest children.
“We just soak it in water and pray,” Mariam says, blinking away tears. “I tell them the angels are eating too.”
Aisha, her ribs clearly visible beneath a faded Dora the Explorer shirt, hasn’t seen a plate of rice in weeks. Her last real meal was over a week ago when a neighbor gave them leftover banku.
As the sun climbs higher, the smell of fried yam wafts from nearby vendors, torturing her already aching belly. She shuffles to her corner, lays down, and drifts into a fragile nap, her hunger quiet but roaring inside.
Krofrom , Moshie Zongo and Asafo: Slums on the Brink
The situation Aisha faces isn’t unique. Across the slums of Krofrom , Moshie Zongo, Aboabo, Asawase and Asafo, silent hunger grips hundreds of children.
A 2024 report by the Ghana Health Service reveals that over 37% of children under five in these communities are moderately or severely underweight.
At the Aboabo Adukrom St. Peter’s Clinic, Nurse Patricia Agyeman recounts treating 214 malnourished children between January and June 2024. “We see sunken eyes, thin limbs, stunted growth. The worst part? Many parents can’t afford even a sachet of milk,” she says.
UNICEF data corroborates this trend, placing these neighborhoods among the most food-insecure in urban Ghana. Maps from the Ashanti Regional Health Directorate highlight Krofrom, Moshie Zongo, and Asafo as high-risk zones with rising cases of child anemia and growth retardation.
Why Plates Stay Empty
Skyrocketing food prices at Asafo Market and its adjacent hubs in Aboabo and Moshie Zongo have made basic staples unaffordable. A small tuber of yam now costs GH₵50. Tomatoes have doubled in price in just six months.
“A few years ago, with GH₵100, you could cook a decent soup,” says Mavis Boadu, a food vendor at the Asafo Market. “Now even GH₵450 is not enough. Poor people can’t eat.”
Despite government pledges, there are no functional school feeding programs in Krofrom and Asafo.
Assembly Member for Aboabo East, Hon.Yussif Iddrisu, blames poor coordination: “We submitted requests for inclusion in the school feeding program in 2022. Nothing happened. We are still waiting.”
Unemployment is rampant. Mariam, like many women here, survives on casual labor — washing clothes for GH₵10 per day. Sometimes, there’s no work at all. Men like Kwame Aidoo in Asafo push carts for 12 hours, earning just GH₵30 daily. “After rent and soap, there’s nothing left for food,” he says.
Social welfare structures have failed to reach these informal settlements. The Ashanti Regional Social Welfare Officer, Mr.
Jacob Achulo, admitted: “Our coverage in these zones is limited by funding. There are no active food subsidy programs.”
Not Just Thin — But Tired, Depressed, and Silent
Beyond weight loss, malnutrition ravages children’s minds.
Dr. Linda Appiah, a pediatric psychologist at Komfo Anokye Teaching Hospital, warns of the damage:
“Children who eat poorly consistently suffer cognitive delays,” she explains. “It affects attention span, emotional regulation, and academic performance.”
She adds, “We’ve recorded cases where children fail to recognize basic colors or shapes at age five. The brain simply doesn’t get the nutrients it needs.”
Dr. Appiah urges urgent intervention. “If nothing is done, we’ll have a generation that cannot think critically, that feels defeated before they begin,” she says. “Hunger kills slowly but surely.”
No Government Plan, No NGO Relief
Documents obtained from the Ministry of Gender reveal zero budgetary allocations specifically earmarked for slum-based child nutrition in Kumasi for the 2023/2024 fiscal year.
Past promises have faded. In 2021, the Ghana School Feeding Programme announced a pilot expansion to urban slums. Three years later, not a single school in Asafo or Krofrom is enrolled.
KMA Health Director,
Mr Francis Dwira-Darko
, admits the failure:
“We identified Krofrom as a vulnerable zone in our 2022 Nutrition Plan,” she says. “But implementation stalled due to lack of inter-ministerial coordination.”
Meanwhile, Assemblyman for
Krofrom Hon. Patrick Kwame Frimpong
, is blunt:
“There is no plan. No feeding centers. No subsidy. The poor here are invisible to Accra,” he says.
Children, Mothers, and Forgotten Fathers Share their Stories
In Moshie Zongo, 10-year-old Abdul Rahim skips school most days. “I can’t learn when I’m hungry,” he whispers, clutching his empty stomach.
His mother, Hawa Issah, boils cassava peels every night just to make her five children feel they’ve eaten. “I tell them it’s soup. But it’s just hot water,” she says. “Sometimes I cry when they sleep.”
Kwame Aidoo, a handcart pusher in Asafo, leaves home at 4 a.m. and returns by 9 p.m. daily. “Even when I work hard, I bring home GH₵20 or GH₵30. That’s nothing for food,” he says. “My children think I’m a failure.”
What Nairobi Did Right — and Kumasi Didn’t
In Nairobi’s Kibera slum, targeted nutrition interventions have reduced child malnutrition by 30% since 2020. The Kenyan government partnered with NGOs to set up community kitchens, distributed food vouchers, and trained mothers in urban farming.
“We provided seeds, soil bags, and monthly nutrition workshops,” says Gladys Wanjiku of Feed Kibera Trust. “It worked. Mothers became producers, not just victims.”
Why hasn’t Kumasi copied this?
“There’s no will,” says Dr. Ama Owusu, a nutritionist at KNUST. “We’re reactive, not proactive. Hunger here is managed with silence.”
Feeding Hope: What Needs to Change Now
UNICEF Ghana spokesperson,Osama Makkawi Khogali, agrees. “We are ready to collaborate if government shows commitment. Hunger is solvable with focus and funding.”
A public petition launched by the grassroots group Food Justice Ghana has already gathered over 15,000 signatures demanding government action. Their spokesperson, Kwabena Mensah, says, “This is not a political issue. It’s a moral one.”
If Nothing Changes, What Happens to Aisha?
Back in Krofrom, Aisha is skipping school again. Her once bright eyes now seem dimmer, her laughter quieter.
“She doesn’t play anymore,” Mariam says. “Just lies down and sleeps. Sometimes, I wonder if she’s giving up.”
Without urgent action, Aisha’s future — and that of thousands more — could disappear into the cracks of Kumasi’s forgotten neighborhoods.