Nana Agradaa, known also as Evangelist Patricia Asiedua, may be confined behind the walls of Nsawam Prison, but her voice broke through in a raw and emotional letter to her young daughter, Rehyhana. The note was handwritten with a heart heavy with regret, love, and longing—a mother’s effort to stay present in her daughter’s life despite the physical separation.
According to prison sources, Agradaa broke down early this morning, overcome by emotion after realizing she hadn’t been able to greet her child before her arrest. When questioned through her tears, she admitted, “I couldn’t even greet my daughter.” A police wireless form was handed to her—an unexpected lifeline through which she could communicate one last wish, one last piece of maternal advice before the day carried on.
The letter paints a portrait of a woman caught between her notoriety and her maternal instinct. In simple, earnest language, Agradaa reminded her daughter to stay focused in school and never to forget her. She encouraged the little girl to be respectful, gentle, and strong—values she hoped would guide her in the absence of a mother’s daily presence. In a poignant line, Agradaa comforted her by saying her spirit is with her always, no matter the distance.
The letter also revealed practical concerns: she instructed Rehyhana to take care of the birds at home—a small but telling detail that shows how much she clings to ordinary life. She then urged her to leave the house and seek refuge with her grandmother, making it clear that under no circumstances should she go to her uncle, One Gig, or stay with someone named Asiamah. The warnings hint at unresolved family tensions and Agradaa’s deep desire to shield her daughter from influences she deems harmful.
Most movingly, Agradaa promised her daughter that she would return soon. Though vague on timing, the promise was filled with emotional weight. She reassured the child that the separation is temporary, a bump in their shared journey. Through the ink-stained words, one could almost hear her voice softening, trying to convince herself as much as her daughter that this chapter would pass.
In this fragile, handwritten note, Agradaa reveals a deeply human side—a mother who, stripped of freedom, clings to hope and responsibility. Her letter isn’t a grand public statement or a calculated plea. It’s a vulnerable message from a woman longing for connection, insisting her presence endures through spirit, memory, and the promise of a return.
Source: Assistant Superintendent of Prisons Officer Patience Baffoe