It was somewhere in December 2022, when Ehornam, just eight at the time, was forced by his stepmother to sit on boiled water at their residence in Abokobi, a suburb of Accra. His mother, Florence, recalls her horror upon discovering the severe burns on Ehornam’s buttocks.
“When I saw the burns, I almost collapsed,” she recounts tearfully. “He told me his stepmother and her relatives held him down and forced him to sit on hot water as a ‘treatment’ for itching in his buttocks. They’ve ruined his life.”
“The water was hot, so I screamed, but my stepmother, her sister and my father’s brother, held me down and made me sit on it,” Ehornam, now 10, recalls.
Florence, who trusted her children’s father to care for Ehornam and his younger brother, says a lack of financial support derailed her efforts to seek justice. She was asked by a doctor at the Greater Accra Regional Hospital (Ridge), where Ehornam was first taken for treatment, to pay GHS1,000 for a medical report required for investigations. She couldn’t raise the money and so investigations stalled.
Then under pressure from her own family, Florence reluctantly withdrew the case supposedly for settlement at home. “They [Ehornam’s father and stepmother] promised to care for my son until he is fully healed, but now I see it was a lie,” she laments.
Two years after the incident, Ehornam’s condition has worsened. Despite undergoing a skin graft surgery sponsored by the father, he struggles with chronic pain, itching, and difficulty sitting for long periods.
“His father hasn’t done much to help since the surgery,” Florence says.
A fund for victims left underfunded
The predicament of Florence and her son is a glaring example of the inadequacies of Ghana’s Victims of Domestic Violence Support Fund. It was established under the Domestic Violence Act, which was passed in 2007.
The fund is intended to provide, among other things, material support, legal aid, medical assistance, and shelter for survivors of domestic violence. Yet, close to two decades since its inception, the fund remains severely under-resourced, leaving many domestic violence survivors with little to no help.
“The fund was supposed to be a safety net for survivors, providing access to resources that could help them recover and rebuild their lives. Instead, it exists more on paper than in practice,” says Lawyer Martin Kpebu, a private legal practitioner who successfully sued the government in 2017 to operationalize the fund.
Lawyer Kpebu attributes the fund’s ineffectiveness to a lack of political will and prioritization.
There is no excuse for this. The government spends millions on non-essential expenses like tyres for official vehicles at the presidency, yet fails to adequately resource a fund that could save lives,” he says.
In 2022, the government reopened the fund with a seed allocation of GHS1.5 million. Quarterly allocations have since increased the total amount in the fund to GHS 5.2 million, according to Malonin Asibi, Head of the Domestic Violence Secretariat under the Ministry of Gender, Children and Social Protection.
“From this fund, we have so far supported 27 survivors in 2024 and eight in 2023, providing shelter, medical care, and legal assistance,” Madam Asibi discloses.
However, Madam Asibi acknowledges the limitations of the fund.
“The shelters we rely on are privately owned because the resources we receive aren’t enough to even buy land for building government-operated facilities,” she explains.
Fees for medical examination of domestic violence victims, according to advocates, range from GHS500 to GHS2,000, while legal costs for filing protection orders can cost between GHS2,500 and GHS12,000. Psychological assessments and therapy sessions add GHS1,200 on average.
According to DOVVSU reports, in 2020 Ghana recorded 1,600 domestic violence cases. Based on average costs, it would require an estimated GHS7.52 million annually to address victims’ medical, legal, and psychological needs, not to mention other functions of the fund. This is nearly GHS 2.3 million more than the fund’s three-year total allocation.
I felt like a prisoner in my own home: Akua Abebrese’s harrowing story
For Akua Abebrese (not her real name), a 39-year-old mother of three, the fund could have made all the difference.
She lost her job in 2017, following the Atomic gas explosion that destroyed several workplaces including the pharmacy where she worked. Akua, pregnant at the time and unable to pay her rent, moved in with her boyfriend, hoping for stability.
Instead, after giving birth, she faced a lot of abuse from the man, forcing her to flee with her nine-month-old baby.
I felt like a prisoner in my own home,” she says, recounting how the man forbade her from interacting with neighbours and monitored her every move. “He threw my belongings outside when I went for a job interview to be able to regain my independence. I had nowhere to go.”
Akua lived in a shelter for 9 months, supported by The Ark Foundation, an Accra-based NGO that assists domestic abuse survivors.
However, after leaving the shelter, she had to move into an uncompleted building. “I had to sprinkle water on the dusty floor to make it livable. It was the most humiliating experience of my life,” the once financially independent Akua, recounts.
Even after gaining some stability, the man has neglected his responsibility towards their child. “Since the child started school over a year ago, he has never paid her school fees before. Feeding fee which is GHS 250 monthly has also stopped coming for over a year now. Meanwhile, I need more than GHS2,000 for school fees and feeding a year,” she says.
The Victims of Domestic Violence Support Fund could have supported Akua by offering stable shelter, material assistance, and resources to rebuild her life. This would have helped her overcome the challenges of finding safe housing and caring for her children, enabling her to recover with dignity and independence.
The toll on victims
Domestic violence leaves survivors grappling with both visible and invisible scars.
“Depending on the degree of assault, victims may live with wounds, bruises, fractures, or even dislocations,” says Dr. Ernest Anim-Opare, a Family Physician at the Korle-Bu Polyclinic. “Survivors frequently struggle to afford essential medical tests and reports, which are crucial for legal proceedings.”
Psychological wounds often outlast physical ones. “Survivors relive the events through nightmares, flashbacks, and overwhelming fear,” explains Dr. Victoria Esinam Asah-Offei, a Clinical Psychologist. “Without early intervention, victims can develop chronic mental health conditions.”
Children, like Ehornam, Florence’s son, are particularly vulnerable. “When children witness or experience abuse, they internalize the trauma,” Dr. Asah-Offei adds. “This can lead to low self-esteem, difficulty forming healthy relationships, and an increased likelihood of replicating the abuse in adulthood.”
Systemic barriers and the need for urgent reforms
Organizations like The Ark Foundation, WiLDAF Ghana, and FIDA Ghana have stepped in to fill gaps that should be filled by the Domestic Violence Victims Support Fund. However, they too face resource constraints.
Dr. Angela Dwamena-Aboagye, Executive Director of The Ark Foundation, expresses frustration over the lack of transparency and accountability surrounding the fund. “We’ve repeatedly asked: Where is the fund located? How much is in it? How do victims access it? Yet, there are no clear answers. Meanwhile, the DV Act requires the Secretariat to render accountability about its operations,” she says.
The Ark Foundation has often stepped in to provide shelter and medical assistance to hundreds of survivors each year. “But we can only do little,” Dr. Dwamena-Aboagye says. “The government has a legal obligation to operationalize the fund. We cannot continue to shoulder this responsibility alone with our limited budget.
We have repeatedly sought [the Domestic Violence Secretariat’s]help to support our budget but it was just recently that we were given GHS30,000 – a fraction of the GHS300,000 we asked for.”
WiLDAF Ghana’s Coordinator, Lois Aduamoah-Addo, emphasizes the need for increased funding. “The public was given high expectations about this fund, but there aren’t enough resources to meet the demand. Within a short time, the funds run out, leaving survivors unsupported,” she explains.
“Imagine a survivor from the Upper East or Savannah region having to come all the way to Accra to access the fund. That’s simply impractical,” adds FIDA Ghana’s Executive Director, Susan Aryeetey.
“To access the fund, victims must write formal letters and wait for responses. But emergencies like medical treatment for Florence’s son can’t wait. These delays undermine the very purpose of the fund.”
All three organizations agree that reforms (such as decentralizing the fund, increasing its resources, and raising public awareness about its availability) are crucial to ensuring survivors receive timely and effective support.
Without these measures, they say survivors remain hesitant to report abuse, while perpetrators feel emboldened to continue their acts unchecked.
For now, the gap between policy and practice remains glaring. Until it is bridged, survivors will continue to endure the failures of a system that promised protection but delivered far too little.