Nurse Ruth – 16 July 2026 

Okay, both of you go on the balcony. Dial a flight attendant. I’m going to get my phone. He’s crying. He’s crying. He’s crying. He’s coming. The second

one is coming. We have her. Everyone in position. Oh. I told him not to touch you. Where are they? Wait a minute. Where is he going? He is safe, Mom. Just resting. He’s healthy, just delivered. Go now.

Nurse Ruth, how is my second baby? Is everything okay? He is okay. His oxygen was a little low when he came out. I put him on support straight away. He is being monitored. He is in good hands. Mensima, you’re still up. You should be resting. Nurse Ruth, it’s been hours. Why can’t I see him? He’s my son.

He’s still under observation, Mensah. His oxygen dipped a little after delivery. It’s common with the second twin. We just want to be sure before we bring him to you. Oxygen dipped, common with the second twin. Then why does it feel like something else? What is happening? Mama, good morning. I’m fine. Just finishing my shift.

Excuse me. Excuse me, please. Where is my second baby? Okay, okay. Please don’t panic. Let me check and I will come back to you. Don’t tell me not to panic. Where is my child? Sister Ruth, the woman in room seven, she’s asking about the second twin. The second twin was moved to observation at 3:00 a.m. His oxygen levels dropped.

I authorized the transfer. I don’t see it’s in here. I’ll log it now. Take her back to her room. Mensah, I know last night was difficult. The situation with your son hasn’t changed. We still need to keep him in isolation a little longer, just to be safe. I don’t understand. Isolation for what? Nobody will tell me what’s actually wrong with him.

Everything will be fine, Mensah. I promise you that. Let the doctors do their work. You just focus on resting. Auntie Ruth, the tuition for next semester. I know. I’ll sort it by end of month.

There’s a family in Kumasi. Older couple, well-established. They’ve been trying for 12 years. This could be exactly what both sides need. Shouldn’t this go through social services? There’s a process for adoption. Social services takes months, sometimes years. We don’t go looking for just anyone, Ruth. We look at who comes in alone.

 No husband at the bedside. No mother, no sister waiting outside the ward. Young girls especially. The ones whose family sent them here alone. Nobody to ask hard questions. Nobody to come back later demanding answers. That’s why we move quickly with them. The girl is 15. She doesn’t want the child.

 She’s been crying since yesterday. Did she actually say she wanted to give him away? Or did someone decided that for her? It doesn’t matter, Ruth. She is 15. Alone. She cannot raise this child better than that family can. Do you understand what I mean? The family is waiting on word. I need to know by morning, Ruth. The tip came through a taxi driver.

He was hired to make two deliveries. The second time he looked. Looked. And he came to us. Seven years at Korle Bu Ridge. Before that, Tema General, 3 years. Before that, Isaac Clinic, Kasoa. She moves. We can’t move on her yet. Not until we know who else is involved. For now, we watch quietly.

 She doesn’t get to know we’re looking. Support the neck here. Don’t be afraid of him. He won’t break. The story is oxygen level standard

transfer. Nothing unusual. And if the family pushes they will push. Dr. Mensah will handle the rest. Doc, the woman keeps asking questions. We need to find her something concrete. Something she can hold on to. Has any family come around? Anyone she can lean on? Who might start asking the same questions? She keeps saying her husband is coming.

At this point I don’t think there’s any husband. Then we move quickly. After my rounds, I’ll have something ready for her. Something that closes this. Akua, something is wrong. They keep saying wait, wait, wait. Nobody is showing me anything. I need you to come. Now. My sister delivered twins here last night.

 I want the transfer documentation for the second baby. The actual paperwork. Oh. Uh I will have to check with the senior nurse. Um it may take a few minutes to locate the right person. I’ll wait. They are not giving me anything. The nurse said someone is coming. I waited. Nobody came. I knew it. Something is wrong, Akua. I know it. Tell me everything.

 From when you delivered. Don’t skip anything. They both came out normally. Kofi first. He cried immediately. Then Kojo. They took him to the other side of the room straight away. Taut. They were working on him across the room. I kept asking, “Is he okay? Is he okay?” Nobody looked at me. Was there a monitor on him? Could you see anything from where you were? There was a monitor.

 It was beeping, normally I think. Then they took him out of the room, just like that, no explanation. And the nurse, when did she come to speak to you? The nurse came around 3:00. Nurse Ruth, she was she was so kind about it. She said Kojo’s oxygen had dropped, that she had moved him herself. Did she show you anything, any paperwork, any transfer form? Mensemma, you had just delivered.

 You were exhausted. Is it possible you misunderstand what they told you? I did not understand, yes. I was tired, but I know what I was told. I am going back out there. This time I am not leaving that station until someone shows me something real. Akua, be careful. Don’t let them send you away. I won’t. What took you so long? I have been calling you.

Akua, where we were the network was terrible. I saw all the messages this morning and I came straight here. How is she? How is Bretima? How is Mensemma? Mensemma is okay. But Kofi, there is something wrong with the second baby. They are not giving us answers. What do you mean not giving you answers? Where is the baby? They told Mensemma the baby was moved to observation at 3:00.

Oxygen levels dropped, but nobody has shown us any paperwork. Nobody has come back. How long ago was 3:00? Let me see Mensemma first, then we deal with them. Okay. But Kofi, let her talk. Don’t interrupt her. Sister Ruth, the husband has arrived. The sister has been asking for paperwork since morning. It’s getting complicated.

It’s time. The family is there. We can’t wait any longer. Mr. Darko, I am so sorry. Your second son did not survive. You kept us waiting hours to tell us this? We need to see the documentation, time

of death, attending staff, everything. Of course. We are preparing everything now. Give us a little time. Where is my son? The body, where is he right now? He has been transferred to the Korle Bu morgue. We will explain everything shortly. Why would they send a baby to another hospital’s morgue? We are right here.

I don’t know. But something about all of this is not right. Mantsima. The doctor says Kojo didn’t make it. But he was fine. I heard the monitor, it was fine. Why did nobody tell me? Why did nobody come back? I know. I know, Mantsima. Cardiac failure.

The body was transferred to Korle Bu for standard infant postmortem protocol. The family can collect the paperwork from there. How long before they can verify anything at Korle Bu? Government bureaucracy. They won’t be able to verify anything before 48 hours minimum. By then this family have no case.

The sister is asking very specific questions. Let her ask. Every answer we give her is on that certificate. Refer everything to me. Mhm. Hold the line. We want the full documentation. Time of death, attending staff, and the transfer Korle Bu. Everything is here. The body was transferred to Korle Bu Teaching Hospital for standard infant postmortem.

You can collect further documentation from there. Yes, sir. I am truly sorry for your loss. This is a very difficult time, and we share in your grief. [sighs and panting] He just walked away. Before we could ask him anything. Time of death, 3:47 a.m. Attending physician, Dr. K. Mensah. 3:47. And nobody came to tell her until morning.

Why would they send a newborn to Korle Bu? We are right here. His mother is right here. I don’t know. But I am keeping this. Every word on this paper, and we will get answers. But right now, she needs us inside. Have you eaten? Not yet. I want to finish this chapter first. Eat first.

 The chapter will still be there. Ruth, when you are done, bring in the washing from outside before it gets dark. Yes, Mama. Two more weeks, Ruth. Two more weeks and all of this will be behind you. You will be free.

He will be loved, Ruth. The Kwanze are good people. He will have everything we cannot give him. What if he looks for me one day? Then you will be someone worth finding. Nurse Ruth, we have a mother publicly

accusing this hospital of taking her newborn. Will you give us a statement? We understand that a mother is going through an incredibly painful time. Losing a baby is devastating. And sometimes in that grief it is very difficult to accept what has happened. We deal with loss in this ward every day. It never gets easier.

And we have counselors available day and night for any mother who needs support. Korle Bu Ridge Private Clinic takes the welfare of every mother and every child with the utmost seriousness. We’ll be releasing a statement by this afternoon. And our thoughts remain with the family in the family during this very difficult time.

Our thoughts remain with the family during this difficult time. The nurse at the center of the allegations, Senior Nurse Ruth Esselam of Korle Bu Ridge Private Clinic. Mama? Mama, have you seen the news today? There’s a report going around. They’re saying a baby was taken from a hospital. A mother is accusing one of the nurses.

I don’t know why it’s bothering me this much, Mama. It’s probably nothing. I just I keep thinking about Kojo. Mama, what if it’s true? What if what she’s being accused of What if that’s what happened to me, too? What if she’s the one who took him? Hello. Akosua, go and check your phone. Facebook, the news, anywhere.

 Ruth’s name is everywhere. Something serious is happening. Ruth. What is all this? Where did all these come from?

They needed somewhere to be. I warned you. No more dolls. They’re gone. All of them. You sit there and think. Don’t you move. That child is gone, Ruth. He has a family now, a good family. You collecting dolls, hiding people’s children, it will not bring him back. Enough of all that. I don’t want to hear about this again.

Do I come in? Come in. You have brought the baby. She has grown so much. She never stops eating. That is all she does, eat and sleep. And how is Ruth doing these days? I haven’t seen her in church for some time now. She is fine, getting back to herself. You know how young people are, they recover quickly.

Akosua, is the bathroom still at the end of the corridor? Yes, yes, straight down. I will bring us more biscuits. Hey, the rice. Ruth? Is that you? Akosua, where did you put her? Did you take her to the kitchen? I didn’t have her. I have been in the kitchen. I didn’t take her. Akosua, she cannot have gone far.

 She cannot even crawl yet. Ruth. Ruth, are you in there? Ruth. Where is the baby? Tell me right now before Adwoa comes back here. Ruth took her into the room. You know how she is with babies. She just wanted to play with her small small. Akosua, is everything okay with Ruth? You can tell me, you know.

 We have known each other a long time. She is fine. She just needs time. You know how it is. Mommy, Very nice. It goes fast. Look. Hello. Abena, did you see the pictures Mommy

posted from the school thing in Kumasi? She tagged you. I didn’t check. The same face, Mommy. The same face as Kwame. It must be him. I know it’s him.

I want to speak to someone about a birth. About a baby I was told died. I have a photograph. I have a photograph of my son. Tell me exactly what happened the day of your delivery. I came in at 6:00 in the morning. It was twins. Everything went normally until the second baby came out. Which nurse told you your baby hadn’t made it? Her name was Ruth.

Nurse Ruth. They took him away immediately. I kept asking, “Is he okay? Is he okay?” Nobody was answering me directly. Then she came in. She sat beside me. She held my hand. And she told me he was gone. She was very kind about it. She stayed with me for almost an hour. She held my hand the whole time. And the body they showed you? They brought a baby in a blanket and I held it.

It was cold and I thought, “That’s what death felt like.” Cold and quiet. I am getting a lawyer. I don’t care what it takes. I am sure they took him and I want my son back. Room three, Mrs. Oday posts are in day two. Her pain management needs review before 10. Don’t wait for her to ask. Check on her proactively.

Ruth Achieng Pong. My name is Detective Adwoa Saah Pong, Economic and Organized Crime Office. I have a warrant for your arrest on charges of child trafficking. Room five. Blood pressure every 40 minutes. Don’t forget. Good afternoon. Am I speaking with Mr.

Samuel Oduro? My name is Adwoa Saah Pong. I’m with the Economic and Organized Crime Office. I’d like to ask you about some work you may have done for a client named Ruth Achieng Pong. And this was how long ago? Tell me about the job Ruth Achampong hired you for. She came to me when she was maybe 28.

She wanted me to find a child she had given up when she was very young. It took me almost 6 months, but I found him. A family called Kwansa had raised him. He was healthy, doing well in school, a good boy from everything I saw. A child she gave up? I’m sorry. I thought this might be connected to the baby she’s accused of taking.

No, no. Nothing like that. Those payments were for tracing, finding out where her son was, who had raised him, whether he was alive, whether he was well. Once I had everything confirmed, I called her. Told her I had what she was looking for. She asked me to bring it to her in person. Nothing over the phone.

I gave her the file myself. Photographs. Everything he asked for. She paid me. She thanked me. She never opened it. Not while I was there. I never heard from her again after that day. Do you still have a copy of that file? Somewhere. I keep everything. Old habit. Everything is in there. Photographs, the family’s details, everything I gave her.

Thank you. I’ll make sure it’s handled properly. Thanks again. Thank you for trusting me with this, Mr. Ojiro. It means more than you probably know. Sir, this just came in from the prosecutor’s office, the full disclosure package for the Achampong case. Thank you. Leave it there. I’ll go through it this evening.

I want to ask you about a man named Samuel Odouro. The private investigator. The prosecution’s disclosure included payments you made to him 15 years ago. I know what they were for, Ruth. I know about your son. Was supposed to find that. He gave you the file, Ruth. You paid him. Why didn’t you open it? If I opened it and he was happy, really happy, then everything I told all those other women was true.

And if he wasn’t, I would have had to stop. And I didn’t want to stop. You want to know where it started? Not with Dr. Davis. Before that. Someone told me once that my baby was going somewhere better. That it was for the best. I believed them. And the mothers you took from, did you tell yourself the same thing? Every time.

My lord, the state will demonstrate that the accused, Ruth Acheampong, over a period of not less than 11 years, systematically removed newborn hospital wards without the knowledge or consent of their mothers. My lord, my client does not dispute the facts. What this court must determine is not simply what occurred, but the person behind what occurred.

Mrs. Frimpong, when did you become aware that your second child might still be alive? Three months ago, I saw a photograph on social media, a child at a school event in Kumasi. His face looked like my face. The first twin, Kwame, they put him on my chest and I heard him cry. Then Kojo came, they took him immediately.

 I kept asking, “Is he okay? Is he okay?” Mrs. Frimpong, in your time at the hospital, how would you describe Nurse Achampong’s manner toward you and the other mothers on the ward? She was kind. That is the thing I remember most. She stayed with me for a long time. They brought another baby in a blanket. They told me it was my son.

And I held it. I said his name. I said goodbye. My lord, I would ask the court to consider the defendant’s own history, a documented psychological pattern stemming from a personal loss at 16 years old, which speaks to the origins of her actions, if not their legality. Counsel, the court has sympathy for the defendant’s history.

But understanding the root of a crime does not excuse it. Sentencing will proceed on the facts before us. Ruth Achampong, this court finds you guilty on all counts of child trafficking and abduction. You are sentenced to 18 years imprisonment, effective immediately. 18 years. I I your face when he said it.

 You didn’t move. What did you want my face to do, Mr. Barima? Cry? Scream? It wouldn’t have changed the number. That’s not what I asked. I’m not asking what your face should have done. I’m asking if you felt anything at all. I felt something leave. Not all at once. Just quietly. Like air out of a room you didn’t know was sealed.

There’s nothing more I can do for you here, Ruth. The appeal process will take its own time. I’ll be in touch when there’s something to report.