It was 12:10 p.m. on Saturday, 8 August 2026. The sun was unforgiving. As I drove across the Korr Bridge at Teshie, Accra, something caught my attention. Along the roadside stood a groups of very young children, about 30 of them, lined up in the scorching afternoon heat, holding placards.
The placards carried biblical quotations and religious messages. I slowed down, stopped and took some photographs, not because I was fascinated by what I had seen, but because I could not shake the question that immediately came to my mind:
What were these children doing here in this heat?
They were not selling sachet water, not hawking food, and not begging for money. They were not apparently offering any tangible goods to motorists.
Yet they were standing by a busy road in the blazing sun, submissively holding placards whose messages and purposes they may not have understood. And that, for me, is where the concern begins.
There is something deeply troubling about seeing children deployed in public spaces for purposes they may not fully understand. Perhaps, whoever organised them had a good intention. Perhaps the children were participating in a religious activity, an awareness campaign, a demonstration or some other event. Perhaps the organisers genuinely believed they were doing something worthwhile.
But good intentions do not automatically make an activity appropriate for innocent children. A child is not merely a smaller version of an adult. A child is a person still growing, physically, emotionally, intellectually and psychologically.
Children depend on adults to make decisions in their best interests because they do not yet possess the maturity or independence to assess every risk to which they may be exposed. In some jurisdictions, minors are prohibited by law from being introduced to any kind of religion.
Standing beside a busy road under a scorching midday sun may appear harmless to an adult who is supervising the activity. But to a child, prolonged exposure to heat, dehydration, exhaustion, traffic and other environmental dangers can become a serious concern.
There is another question we must ask: Did these children understand why they were there? Looking at some of them, about seven years old, I could not help wondering whether they knew the meaning of the words written on the placards they were holding.
Were they there because they understood and believed in the message? Or were they there because an adult instructed them? That distinction matters. Children are not props. Our society and religious entities must become more conscious of the ways in which children are sometimes used to advance certain causes.
Children are frequently brought into religious activities, political activities, commercial activities, campaigns, demonstrations and public events. Sometimes, this may seem perfectly legitimate and beneficial. But there must always be a boundary.
Children must never become props for adult purposes. A child holding a placard can make a message appear more innocent, more emotional or more compelling. But the fact that a child makes a message more powerful does not mean the child should be placed in that position. No!
We must ask whether the child’s welfare, safety, dignity and understanding have been considered and genuinely sought or granted by the child. The fact that the children were not selling anything tangible should not necessarily end the conversation about child labour or exploitation.
How different is this practice from parents of those children from Sarhelian region whom government has been deporting from time to time? Child protection is broader than preventing children from hawking on our streets. It is also about protecting children from situations in which adults may use their time, bodies, presence or vulnerability for purposes they do not understand or cannot freely consent to.
As I watched those children, another question troubled me: whether the activity was actually in their best interests. These questions are not intended to condemn anyone. They are questions that responsible adults must ask. Because when it comes to children, prevention must come before regret.
We should not wait until a child collapses from heat exhaustion, is knocked down by a vehicle or suffers some other harm before asking why children were placed in such a circumstance. There is something particularly painful about situations involving children because children often cannot challenge adults. A child may be tired but remain standing because an adult commanded him to.
A child may be thirsty but remain silent. A child may not understand the message on the placard but hold it anyway. A child may be frightened by passing vehicles but assume that the adults around him know best.
That is why society has a special responsibility towards children. The absence of a complaint from a child does not necessarily mean that the child is comfortable. Silence is not consent. Obedience is not necessarily understanding. And a smiling child is not necessarily a child who is safe.
Where are our child-protection institutions?
This incident should also cause those responsible for child protection to reflect.
The Department of Social Welfare, the Ministry responsible for children, the Commission on Human Rights and Administrative Justice, the Ghana Police Service, local authorities, religious organisations, schools, parents and civil society organisations all have roles to play in protecting children.
But child protection cannot be left entirely to institutions. Every adult is part of the child-protection system. The motorist who sees a child in danger. The teacher who notices inappropriate treatment. The pastor or religious leader who questions the use of children.
The parent who asks where his or her child is being taken. The neighbour who speaks up. The journalist who asks questions. The citizen who refuses to look away. In fact, we all have a duty. Let us not wait for tragedy.
The most disturbing part of what I saw on Saturday was not necessarily the placards. It was the possibility that about 30 children could be standing by a busy road in the blazing sun and passers-by might simply drive past as though nothing unusual was happening.
Perhaps we have become too accustomed to seeing children in places where they should not be. Perhaps we have normalised it when religion is at play. Perhaps we have convinced ourselves that because the children are not begging or selling something, there is no problem.
But child protection requires us to look beyond appearances.
We must ask:
Is this child safe?
Is this appropriate?
Does this child understand what he or she is doing? Those questions may sometimes make us uncomfortable.
But uncomfortable questions can prevent heartbreaking consequences.
Although they are someone’s children, they belong to the state which is obliged to protect them.
As I drove away from the Korr Bridge, I kept thinking about those children.
They were someone’s sons and daughters. Someone’s grandchildren. Someone’s little brother or sister. Each one has dreams that are still being formed.
One may become a doctor. Another may become a teacher. Another may become an engineer, soldier, lawyer, farmer, entrepreneur, pastor or journalist. Another may simply grow into a loving parent and responsible citizen.
But before they become any of these things, they deserve protection from exploitation. They deserve education, and rest. They deserve adults who will put their welfare above the success of a religious event, campaign, message or cause.
So, to everyone who has the power and responsibility to protect Ghana’s children, this is an appeal: Please look into what happened at the Korr Bridge on Saturday, 8 August 2026, not necessarily to punish anyone or assume wrongdoing.
But to understand, to find out who these children were, who brought them there, what activity they were participating in. And let the answers guide us.
Because the next time we see about 30 children standing in the scorching sun, we should not merely ask what message they are carrying on their placards. We should first ask: Who is carrying the responsibility?
For ultimately, the message that matters most is not the one written on the placard. It is the message we send as a society about how much we value our children. And that message must always be: Ghana’s children are worth protecting.
Asks Ex-WOI Bright Segbefia
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