In this publication, I confront a dangerous and pervasive culture gripping the nation’s workplaces: employees’ unrestrained addiction to their phones and social media. These digital distractions are not merely a benign habit—they serve as potential conduits for leaks of confidential information into the public sphere and significantly undermine both productivity and the quality of customer service.
I assign direct responsibility to government officials—ministers and upper-level managers—who have normalized and tacitly endorsed such behaviour. Their indifference is unsurprising, given that their own compensation and privileges remain untouched by the resulting inefficiencies. Until leadership at the highest levels acknowledges and addresses this corrosive trend, the nation’s institutions will continue to suffer the consequences of misplaced priorities and eroding standards.
Anyone who has recently visited one of the nation’s police stations—whether the Police Headquarters, the Criminal Investigation Department (CID)–Headquarters, or the Greater Accra Regional Lands Commission or the Accra Regional Immigration Office at Kanda —cannot help but observe employees incessantly engaged with their phones: talking, browsing social media, or chatting on WhatsApp, all while clients stand by or sit in uneasy silence, awaiting service. Such behaviour is more than a mere breach of professional decorum; it is an egregious display of disregard for the public. Worse still, these conversations are frequently trivial, ranging from recounting trips to America and discussing last week’s church sermon, to giving instructions for Mobile Money transfers or debating cosmetic purchases—topics wholly irrelevant to their official duties. This pervasive indifference not only undermines workplace efficiency but signals a deeper institutional malaise that demands urgent attention.
Given space limitations, this publication will focus on the Police Headquarters, the Criminal Investigation Department Headquarters, and the Accra Regional Immigration Office at Kanda. Nowhere is the culture of gross indiscipline and institutional lawlessness more apparent than at these sites. Officers, including those tasked with upholding the law, are routinely seen loitering, donning earpieces, and engaging in lengthy, irrelevant conversations—both in public view and behind office doors. Astonishingly, those sworn to embody discipline and professionalism spend official hours on personal phone calls, with only occasional, perfunctory interruptions to attend to the public. The brazen volume and frequency of these calls are not only unprofessional, but they also erode the public’s respect for what should be a disciplined and venerable institution.
This addiction to phone chatter is not confined to junior ranks; it is enabled and perpetuated by senior police officers who permit, and even incentivize, a climate of idleness and indifference. Junior police officers feel emboldened to squander time because there are no repercussions—no dismissals, no demotions, no deterrence. The uncomfortable truth, whispered but widely known, is that many of these officers are beneficiaries of patronage, recruited through “backdoor” channels or political connections. As a result, they feel insulated from the consequences of their indiscipline. It is not uncommon to witness senior officers pass by as subordinates idle away on their phones, unmoved and unperturbed, thus compounding a crisis of credibility and effectiveness at the very core of our law enforcement institutions.
Not long ago, a disturbing incident laid bare the depths of institutional decay within the police service: a female officer, evidently more absorbed in her phone than in her professional duties, dismissed a complainant’s case as frivolous, proceeding not only to kick the individual but to threaten him with physical violence—going so far as to threaten to stone him. The fact that this disgraceful episode was captured and circulated on YouTube has only served to further erode the meagre respect that the police service continues to command among an already disillusioned public.
What became of this egregious breach of professional conduct remains shrouded in silence. There has been no transparent investigation, no public accountability, only the all-too-familiar hush that signals tacit institutional complicity. The hope, it seems, is that a forgetful public will move on, allowing business as usual to resume—no consequences, no reform. The message from upper-level police management is unambiguous: protecting employment, regardless of misconduct, takes precedence over upholding human rights and social justice. Until this inverted hierarchy of priorities is confronted and rectified, such abuses will persist, and the legitimacy of law enforcement will continue its inexorable decline.
The situation at the Greater Accra Regional Immigration Headquarters is, if anything, even more egregious than that observed among their police counterparts. Employees here—predominantly women—are the very embodiment of workplace phone addiction. Arriving late and dressed more as fashionistas than public servants, these officers seem more invested in tracking the latest social media trends than in performing their official duties.
This culture of distraction is not without consequence. Errors are rampant, and the quality of public service has plummeted. I speak from personal experience: a female immigration officer misplaced my plane ticket—a crucial document for my visa extension—only to brazenly accuse me of failing to submit it. It was only after I insisted on involving a senior official that the error was rectified and instructions were issued for staff to put away their phones. Meanwhile, applicants are forced to endure interminable waits, their time and dignity sacrificed to the whims of inattentive staff.
Such behaviour is not merely unprofessional; it is a flagrant dereliction of duty that undermines the credibility and integrity of the entire institution. Until there is a decisive cultural shift—one that prioritizes discipline, competence, and genuine public service—these agencies will remain mired in mediocrity, to the profound detriment of the citizens they are meant to serve.
These problems did not emerge in a vacuum; they are the direct product of successive Ghanaian governments. In their relentless pursuit of political capital and electoral gain, administrations have systematically transformed state agencies into patronage machines—staffing them with friends, relatives, and party loyalists who lack the necessary training and professional discipline to manage public institutions. The result is a cadre of officials with inflated egos and an unwarranted sense of superiority, convinced they are exceptional amidst mediocrity, yet woefully unfit to deliver genuine public service. This is not mere negligence—it is a calculated dereliction of governance that continues to undermine the nation’s progress.
To confront the scourge of phone addiction in public institutions, the government must take bold, uncompromising action—however painful or unpopular it may be. It should impose an immediate freeze on hiring, creating a window to systematically identify and remove idle and unproductive personnel. Only by retaining the most competent employees and equipping them with necessary resources—such as regulated phone lines and unequivocal policies with explicit sanctions for violations—can the police and immigration services regain their standing as reputable institutions devoted to public service.
Following the much-needed dismissal of inept staff, the government must abandon the corrosive practice of appointing loyalists to state positions. This culture of patronage has suffocated meritocracy and bred a pervasive sense of entitlement, undermining both institutional effectiveness and public trust. Only through sustained commitment to excellence and accountability can Ghana’s public institutions reclaim their legitimacy and fulfill their mandate to serve the nation.
In closing, let me make it unequivocally clear that this essay is not crafted as ammunition for any political party to vilify its opponents; both major parties are equally culpable in perpetuating these destructive practices. My purpose is to ignite a rigorous, Socratic dialogue on an issue that continues to cripple national development and erode workplace productivity. I urge readers to approach this work in that spirit, and I challenge policymakers and government officials to extract substantive lessons—moving beyond rhetoric to implement policies that truly prioritize the nation’s welfare above narrow political interests. The time for complacency has long passed; what Ghana needs now is principled leadership and a genuine commitment to the public good.
