“No Sweetness here” is a short story by Ghanaian writer Ama Ata Aidoo. Originally published in the 12th issue of the Nigerian literary magazine Black Orpheus in 1964, the story was later included in Aidoo’s 1969 short story collection No Sweetness Here.

This guide refers to the 1995 Feminist Press edition of the collection.

Aidoo writes primarily in the genre of social realism: Her stories seek to capture the texture of daily life in her native Ghana, showing how social and political structures impact the personal experiences of her characters. “No Sweetness Here” is set in a small, rural Ghanaian village called Bamso and explores The Harm that Patriarchal Power Structures Cause Societies. Patriarchal assumptions are so ubiquitous in Bamso that they go largely unseen, but they nevertheless precipitate terrible tragedy. The story deals with related themes including Motherhood as Synonymous with Womanhood and The Need for Solidarity Among Women.

The narrator, Chicha, is the sole schoolteacher at the relatively new elementary school in the village of Bamso. Chicha has a favorite student, a 10-year-old boy named Kwesi whom she considers uncommonly beautiful. Unlike most residents of the village, Chicha was not born in Bamso but was sent there to oversee the village school. She has developed a close friendship with Kwesi’s mother, Maami Ata, and she visits her regularly after school. Chicha likes to tease Maami Ata that, if she is ever transferred to another village, she will take Kwesi with her. His mother always begs gently that she not take Kwesi away, and Chicha assures her it is a joke.

One day, Chicha learns Maami Ama has been unhappy in her marriage for some time and is about to get a formal divorce. Her husband, Kodjo Fi, has never treated her well—sometimes giving her no allowance for necessities, refusing to eat the food she cooks, and assigning her the worst garden plot of his three wives even though, as the first wife, she should be entitled to the best. His two other wives and his mother treat her poorly as well, and Maami, tired of the constant disrespect, is ready to extract herself from this marriage no matter what it costs her. Chicha asks about custody of Kwesi, whom she has said she cannot lose, and is shocked and confused by the vague answer. Maami Ami says that Kwesi will be fine, and he may simply be sent to his father; when Chicha presses, she says, “Of course I will struggle…but I will let him go” (62). She prefers to keep Kwesi, but women have little power in divorce proceedings.

The next day is Ahobaada, a holiday dedicated to good will and reconciliation. It is also the day of the divorce. Chicha leaves school early, while the children play, to watch the proceedings. They take place at a local home and are judged by village elders. By the time Chicha arrives, the proceedings have concluded. Since only a man can sue for divorce, Kodjo Fi was the one to say he wanted to end the marriage. Maami Ama now has a long list of fees that she must pay her ex-husband, much more than he will have to pay her, and she will go into debt to her family over it. Kwesi will go with his father. Maami Ama’s in-laws continue to threaten and insult her, calling her a bad woman and a witch. As the families argue, Chicha returns to school, but all the students are missing. She finds them in a circle around Maami’s house. In the center, Kwesi is lying on the ground unconscious, having been bitten by a snake. The crowd suggests remedies, but none of them work, and the doctor from the local village is too late. Kwesi dies. Both families are devastated, and the whole village mourns. Chicha sums up the village’s reaction to the sudden death with a composite quote: “‘And he was his mother’s only child. She has no one now. We do not understand it. Life is not sweet!’ Thus ran the verdict” (71).

There is some gossip that Maami killed Kwesi to keep him from leaving, and both families are arguing over who is responsible. The village priest thinks perhaps the boy’s death was a punishment against the whole village. Chicha thinks of all her daydreams for Kwesi, how she had fantasized about becoming his mother, giving him a better education and greater access to the world. She even dreamed that he would win a scholarship to university and that he would travel abroad, visiting America and England. Grief-stricken at the loss of these dreams, she goes to visit his mother. Through the door, she sees Maami Ama kneeling, clutching her son’s books and uniform to her chest, lost in grief. Chicha watches her silently through the door, then turns to leave, ending on an ambiguous note: “[I]t was six o’clock…this time, I did not run” (74).