When Dennis Akosah met Linda Serwaa at a café in East Legon, everything felt effortless. They laughed easily, took endless selfies, and shared desserts as though love itself was made of sugar. Every weekend became a celebration ; pizza on Fridays, ice cream on Sundays, and cocktails whenever life gave them an excuse.
“It became our thing,” Serwaa recalled fondly. “Food was how we showed love.”
For years, the habit continued. They were both young and busy, using food as comfort and connection in a fast paced city. But in early 2024, sweetness took a different turn. One evening, Dennis, a banker at Sinapi Aba Savings and Loans grew dizzy at work. His vision blurred and his hands shook. At the hospital, the doctor’s words stunned him ;Type 2 diabetes. He was only 35.
“I thought diabetes was for old people,” he said quietly. “I never even added sugar to my tea. I didn’t know how much of it was hiding in the things we loved to eat.”
Like many young urban couples, their love was built around convenience and indulgence. Late night meals, takeout boxes, bottles of alcohol after work, and snacks to survive the long hours in Accra’s traffic were part of their daily rhythm. Their refrigerator was always full of energy drinks, sweet yoghurts, pastries, and fizzy sodas.
After the diagnosis, the doctor’s advice was firm: no alcohol, no sugary drinks, smaller portions, and daily exercise. It felt like an emotional storm. “It was hard,” Dennis admitted. “We were used to eating together all the time. Now we had to start from scratch.”
Serwaa struggled to adjust. “I still buy milkshakes sometimes,” she confessed with guilt. “I try not to drink them when he’s around, but it’s not easy to stop.”
Gradually, the romance that once centered on food began to feel tested by discipline. Date nights turned into clinic appointments. Candlelit dinners became careful meal plans. The same table that once symbolized love now demanded restraint.
According to the Ghana Health Service, diabetes cases are sharply rising among adults under 40. In cities like Accra, fast food and processed snacks have replaced traditional home cooked meals. Alcohol and sweetened drinks now dominate social and romantic life.
“Modern dating culture in Ghana revolves around food and leisure,” explained Dr. Selorm Adu, a nutrition specialist in Accra. “Couples eat out often and rarely cook at home. They see it as harmless, but it is slowly destroying their health.”
He added that many young people ignore warning signs such as fatigue, excessive thirst, or frequent urination because they assume they are too young to be diabetic. “By the time they seek help, their sugar levels are already dangerously high,” he said.
For Dennis and Serwaa, the diagnosis became a moment of awakening. Serwaa began learning new recipes and joined him for evening walks. “I realised it wasn’t just his illness,” she said. “If I kept eating recklessly, I was hurting both of us.”
Today, they cook together brown rice, grilled fish, vegetables, and coconut water replacing soda. Their love hasn’t disappeared; it has simply learned moderation.
Still, the journey has been lonely at times. Friends tease them for refusing cocktails or birthday cake, saying they act like an old married couple. Dennis laughs it off. “I used to think healthy living was boring,” he said. “Now I know it’s the best way to say ‘I love you’ by choosing to live longer together.”
Across Accra, more young couples are walking the same path, unaware of the danger until it is too late. In a country where food is love, few realize that love itself can become a slow poison when served with too much sugar.
“Love shouldn’t taste like regret,” said Dr. Adu. “What couples share on their plates today shapes the kind of life they’ll share tomorrow.”
Dennis nodded in agreement. “We still go out,” he said with a smile, “but now we share water instead of wine. And that, to me, is real love.”.
By :Nana Ama Asantewaa Kwarko
Email:N.kwarko@yahoo.com
