Six months after two young sisters were sexually assaulted in what shocked the conscience of an entire community, their family finds itself in a harrowing position. 

Burdened by mounting medical costs and a stalled police investigation, they have been left with no choice but to seek financial help from the very man accused of destroying their children’s lives.

In September 2025, the Bawku Municipality was rocked by outrage when 47-year-old Sulley Fongo allegedly defiled two girls, aged just 4 and 7, on the same day. 

Medical reports from the Presbyterian Hospital Bawku confirmed the horrific nature of the attack, documenting torn hymens, bruises, and tenderness consistent with penetrative injuries.

While the initial shockwave prompted swift calls for justice from teachers and advocates, the momentum has long since faded. 

The suspect is free at a private hideout, while the survivors’ family grapples with a painful reality.

The path to physical recovery is a costly one.

To prevent Sexually Transmitted Infections, the two girls require regular injections every three to five months, with each shot costing GHS350.

The combined family bill of GHS700 is a sum their impoverished household simply cannot afford.

With no support from state institutions, the family has been forced into a degrading dilemma. 

“We know it is wrong, but what can we do?” a weeping family member lamented.

“The police have abandoned us… who do we turn to?”

Desperation has driven them to accept money from Osman Mohammed, an uncle of the accused, who has been sending funds to cover the girls’ medical expenses. 

A survival strategy, they say, brings profound shame and emotional distress to their already drowning trauma.

The case, which drew regional and national attention, including petitions to the Ministry of Gender, Children, and Social Protection, has seemingly hit a brick wall. 

Community members who once loudly demanded justice have gone silent, their voices stifled by fear and disillusionment.

“I now fear for my safety. We believed the police would deliver justice, yet the abuser is still walking free,” one resident said. “Who knows; he could be watching or targeting anyone who dares to speak the truth against him.”

This case lays bare the gaping wounds in Ghana's child protection and justice systems.

While the Ministry of Gender and the Police Service were alerted months ago, the family feels utterly abandoned. 

For the parents, the focus remains on their daughters’ fragile recovery.

But as they accept money from their child’s alleged abuser’s uncle to pay for medicine, they do so with the bitter knowledge that justice, like the safety they once believed in, remains tragically out of reach.