Many years ago, when Mr John Ampao met his wife, Josephine, in Lagos, Nigeria, their dream was simple, like that of most immigrants — to work hard, earn a decent income and raise their family without struggle.
Life in Lagos was not easy, but it was promising. Mr Ampao, a trained visual artist, ran an art gallery where he created and sold paintings. Josephine, a food vendor, also supported the home while caring for their growing family.
Then one morning, everything started changing.
“I woke up one day and noticed some hard patches on my body. They were painless but very hard. I thought it was just a skin condition, so I kept buying medicine from pharmacies.
But instead of getting better, it kept growing. At night, I would feel very hot,” Mr Ampao told this reporter at the Weija Leprosarium in Accra last Tuesday.
In a short while, his whole body developed wounds and people started avoiding him.
“When I enter public places, people would move away. It was painful,” he recounted.
Then, Josephine in her early 30s became the bread winner of the family juggling her food business, while caring for three young children and a bed-ridden husband.
When her husband’s condition continued to deteriorate, close friends advised that she left as she was too young to carry on such burdens and also risked getting infected with the condition.
“People told me to leave him. Even close friends said, “Why are you staying with this man?” But my mother encouraged me. She said, “Stay. God will take control.”
“They said, ‘Why would you marry this man with a sickness like this? It is better you leave him and find your way.”
Some reminded her that she barely knew his extended family when she married him in Lagos. Others insisted she was still young enough to start over.
“We had three children. I could not leave him. I believe in prayer. I believed God would heal him. It was difficult. I sold food by the roadside. I would cook early in the morning, sell, come back and take care of him and the children. It wasn’t easy, but by God’s grace, we managed,” she said.
Returning home for diagnosis and treatment
Mr Ampao said when all efforts to treat his condition failed, he was advised by a Ghanaian medical student to return home for treatment.
“I went to Nigeria in search of better opportunities, now there I was, returning home with this condition. But where was the money even for transportation back home? I had equipment, computers — everything for my art business. I had to sell things earlier to raise money to buy my medicine.”
“At one point, I couldn’t even walk. My wife had to rally around and find money for my transport.
“When she finally raised enough and we got to the bus station, no driver wanted to carry me. People would see me and refuse. Eventually, we managed to get a taxi to the border. It was very humiliating,” he recounted.
In Ghana, his family sent him to the Ho Leprosarium for treatment. Josephine returned to Lagos to look after the children, making the long journey back to visit him whenever she could.
There, he was put on Multidrug Therapy (MDT) — the approved treatment for leprosy.
“I want to say this clearly: leprosy is curable. I took the medication consistently. Slowly, the deformities stopped progressing. Today, I am healed — though I still have some scars,” Mr Ampao said showing some scars on his hands.
Asked if his fingers were affected, he explained, “Yes. My fingers became stiff. I was advised to massage them regularly with shea butter. There are two types of leprosy. The more severe type can cause numbness — you won’t feel pain even if you step on a nail or put your hand in fire. That’s how people lose fingers and toes.
But by God’s grace and the medication, I did not lose my hands. God knew I was an artist and needed my hands to work again.”
Even in treatment, he refused to let the disease take his gift. With a jotter and pencil always beside him, he practiced his sketches daily, determined not to lose the hands that defined him as an artist.
As his condition improved and he was eventually declared cured, he began to gain recognition as the resident artist at the centre. His sketches, once a quiet form of therapy, started attracting attention from visitors and staff alike.
After about three years at the Ho Leprosarium, Rev. Fr Andrew Campbell, the Founder of the Lepers Aid Committee, visited the facility and noticed his remarkable talent. Impressed by both his resilience and his art, Fr Campbell advised him to relocate to the Weija Leprosarium to establish his gallery.
From stigma to spotlight
For close to 14 years, Mr Ampao has been based at the Weija Leprosarium, using his art not only to support his family but also to raise funds for the centre. Through his paintings, he contributes to the rehabilitation of other residents, turning his personal journey into a source of hope for many.
At his studio, Jonny Art Gallery, many beautiful paintings line the walls — landscapes, portraits and expressive pieces he displays with quiet pride. Each artwork tells a story of resilience, faith and restoration.
Over the years, he has also painted portraits of well-known public figures, further cementing his reputation as a gifted and respected artist.
Celebrating love
“He is a good man. He should continue to trust God. I believe God will help us. It was not easy but by God’s grace, we managed,” Josephine responded to what kept her strong during the difficult times.
For Mr Ampao, today on Valentine’s Day, gratitude fills the space where illness once lived.
“In Africa, it is stigma that draws us away from good things. Because of stigma, people run from the sick. But leprosy is curable.”
He turned to his wife and said, “If there is any award in this world, it belongs to you. I love you. I love my children. With God, all things are possible.”
He speaks of their three children with pride — one in the university, another studying ICT and one learning visual art under his guidance. Before the interview ended, he looked directly at Josephine.
“Since you stood with me, God will stand by you and our children. As our mouths have become one, our children will become pillars in this family. One day, when we cannot stand, they will carry us.”
Then, softly he added, “Thank you very much. I love you.”
Writer’s email:
Source:
www.graphic.com.gh
