HR Frontiers with Senyo M Adjabeng: Confronting the promise and peril of domestic employment

The doorbell rings at a respectable residence in Accra’s Airport Residential Area.  A young woman answers, admits the visitor, and retreats to the kitchen to continue preparing dinner.  She is a ‘house help’, a domestic worker, but the economic reality is singular.

She is part of an army of approximately 58,000 domestic workers across Ghana, over 90 percent of whom labour in the informal economy, invisible to the very systems designed to protect them.

This is an industry built on the most intimate of human relationships, one family inviting another person into the heart of their home, yet governed for decades by custom rather than contract, by goodwill rather than legal right.  That paradox is finally beginning to shift, and the implications for employers, workers, and the broader economy are profound.

The passage of the Labour (Domestic Workers) Regulations, 2020 (L.I.2408) represented a legislative milestone, formally bringing domestic workers under the umbrella of Ghana’s labour law for the first time.

But laws on paper do not equal rights in practice.  What makes this moment genuinely significant is the recent announcement that the Ministry of Labour, Jobs and Employment has officially adopted a roadmap to implement these regulations, with two immediate priorities; integrating domestic workers into the Ghana Labour Market Information System and enrolling them in the SSNIT pension scheme.

For HR professionals and business owners who employ domestic staff, this is not merely a social justice issue, it is a compliance imperative that demands immediate attention.

The Legal Architecture of Decent Work

To understand what this moment means, we must first examine what L.I.2408 actually requires.  The regulations establish a comprehensive framework that transforms the domestic employment relationship from an informal arrangement into a formal legal contract with enforceable rights and obligations.

At the foundation lies the requirement for a written contract.  Every domestic worker must have a written employment agreement that specifies conditions of service, including wages and payment schedules, working time, rest periods, leave entitlements, and responsibilities.

Any benefits provided in kind, such as accommodation, food, or transportation, must be quantified in writing, transforming vague promises into measurable compensation.  Critically, the employer must deposit a copy of this contract with the District Labour Officer within one month of signing.

This registration requirement is not bureaucratic box-ticking; it is the mechanism by which domestic workers become visible to the state and therefore eligible for protection.

The financial implications for employers are substantial.  Wages cannot fall below the National Daily Minimum Wage, a provision that immediately raises labour costs for households accustomed to setting compensation unilaterally.

Hours worked beyond the agreed schedule constitute overtime and must be paid accordingly, and work on statutory public holidays, if required at all, must be compensated at double the normal daily wage.

These are not suggestions or best practices; they are legal requirements carrying the force of regulation.  Perhaps the most significant shift concerns social security.  The regulations tie domestic employment directly to the national pensions system, requiring employers to register workers and make SSNIT contributions.

For an industry where workers have historically aged out of employment with nothing but memories of families they helped raise, this represents a fundamental revolution of what domestic work means.  It is the difference between a job and a career, between ‘casual labour’ and recognised employment.

For live-in domestic workers, the regulations impose additional obligations.  Employers must ensure adequate living conditions that guarantee privacy and security, access to toilet and bathing facilities, and adequate food if provided as part of the arrangement.

The law explicitly prohibits sexual harassment and domestic violence, establishing complaint pathways that did not previously exist for workers whose workplace is someone else’s home and whose harasser may be their employer .

The Gap Between Law and Lived Experience

Yet even as we celebrate these legislative advances, we must confront an uncomfortable truth, that the existence of rights does not guarantee their enjoyment.

The International Domestic Workers Federation estimates that over 90 percent of Ghana’s domestic workers remain in informal employment, meaning the vast majority have never seen a written contract, never received a payslip showing lawful deductions, and never watched a SSNIT contribution accumulate in their name .

Recent academic research paints a troubling picture of the lived experiences behind these statistics.  A study published in the Journal of the British Academy examining domestic workers in urban Accra and Lagos revealed patterns of non-decent work, profound power imbalances, ‘isolative’ situations, and multiple vulnerabilities that must be addressed for workers to thrive and for the industry to prosper.

The researchers found that domestic workers often operate in contexts where their employers are simultaneously their landlords, their supervisors, and in cases of dispute, their adversaries.  This multiplicity of roles creates dependencies that formal legal protections struggle to overcome.

For an industry where workers have historically aged out of employment with nothing but memories of families they helped raise, this represents a fundamental revolution of what domestic work means.  It is the difference between a job and a career, between ‘casual labour’ and recognised employment.

The gender dimensions of this industry are impossible to ignore.  Domestic work in Ghana is overwhelmingly performed by women and girls, and it sits within a broader ecosystem of unpaid care work that systematically disadvantages females from childhood through old age.

According to the Ghana Statistical Service’s 2020 Time Use Survey, women spend an average of 6.4 hours daily on unpaid care and domestic work, compared to 1.7 hours for men.  A UN Women study further reveals that women and girls aged 15 and above spend 15.5 percent of their time on unpaid domestic tasks, more than three times the 4.6 percent spent by men, with women performing over 76 percent of all unpaid care work nationwide .

Data from the Ghana Statistical Service’s Annual Household Income and Expenditure Survey offers a sobering quantitative perspective.  Among nearly 83,000 valid responses on employment status, only 344 individuals, approximately 0.4 percent, identified as domestic workers.

This figure almost certainly undercounts the true population, as many domestic workers, particularly those engaged part-time or living in employers’ homes, may not identify themselves as workers in the formal sense captured by household surveys.  The discrepancy between the IDWF estimate of 58,000 workers and the survey finding of 344 respondents illustrates the profound invisibility of this workforce.

The Path Forward for Employers

For the households and individuals who employ Ghana’s domestic workers, the message is straightforward but demanding.  Compliance is no longer optional.  The roadmap adopted by the Ministry of Labour, Jobs and Employment signals a new era of enforcement, and employers who fail to adapt do so at their own risk.

What does compliance require in practical terms?  First, every employer of a domestic worker must execute a written contract that complies with L.I. 2408.  Model contracts are available, and legal professionals familiar with labour law can provide guidance.

The contract must specify wages, working hours, rest periods, leave entitlements, and any benefits in kind with their quantifiable value.  This document must be deposited with the District Labour Officer within one month of execution.

Second, employers must register their domestic workers with SSNIT and commence contributions.  The regulations permit employers to register workers as informal employees and pay periodic contributions.

This is not merely a deduction from wages, it is an employer obligation that, properly understood, forms part of the total compensation package.  For workers who have never had access to formal social protection, this single act transforms their relationship to the state and to their own futures.

And then, employers must restructure their expectations around working time.  The entitlement to at least eight consecutive hours of daily rest and twenty-four hours of weekly rest is not negotiable.

For live-in arrangements, this requires explicit scheduling and respect for boundaries that may never have been previously acknowledged.   The requirement that public holiday work be compensated at double the normal wage imposes clear financial consequences on employers who require holiday coverage .

The Role of Advocacy and Organising

The progress achieved to date would not have occurred without sustained advocacy by organisations representing domestic workers themselves.  The Domestic Services Workers Union, working in partnership with the International Domestic Workers Federation, has been central to maintaining pressure on the Ministry of Labour, Jobs and Employment and ensuring that L.I. 2408 moved from paper to implementation.

For employers, this organising activity should be viewed not as a threat but as an opportunity.  A workforce that is organised, that understands its rights, and that has institutional support is a workforce capable of stable, long-term employment relationships.  The alternative, a fragmented, informal workforce cycling through endless short-term arrangements, serves no one’s interests.

From Charity to Right

The employment of domestic workers in Ghana stands at a crossroads.  Behind us lies the old model of informal arrangements, verbal agreements, and relationships governed by the unpredictable interplay of employer benevolence and worker dependency.  Ahead lies a new model of formal contracts, registered employment, social security contributions, and enforceable rights.

The transition will not be easy.  It requires employers to abandon habits of a lifetime, to accept costs they have historically avoided, and to recognise as workers people they may have viewed as dependents.

It requires government to build enforcement capacity where none has existed and to make visible a workforce that has been systematically invisible.  It requires workers to assert rights they may not know they possess and to demand treatment they have never received.

But the alternative to this difficult transition is the perpetuation of an industry built on exploitation, where 90 percent of workers labour outside the law, where retirement means destitution, and where the work that sustains families and enables economic activity remains systematically devalued .

The business case for formalisation is clear: reduced turnover, increased productivity, managed compliance risk, and alignment with evolving legal standards.  The social case is equally compelling: dignity for workers, stability for families, and recognition for the women who sustain Ghana’s care economy.

And the economic case, articulated by scholars like Professor Oduro, reminds us that how we treat domestic workers is not separate from how we measure national progress but central to it.

As the implementation roadmap adopted by the Ministry of Labour, Jobs and Employment, begins to take effect, every employer of domestic workers in Ghana faces a choice. They can resist the transition, clinging to informal arrangements that become increasingly untenable.

Or they can embrace the new framework, formalising their employment relationships and contributing to the construction of an industry that works for workers and employers alike.

The doorbell is ringing. How we answer will determine not only the fate of 58,000 domestic workers but the character of the society we are building together.

Post Views: 5