Dearest President William Ruto,

I hope this letter finds you well. I write with deep respect and concern for the future of Kenya and the continent. I urge you not to pursue divisive or xenophobic politics that risk isolating Kenya and undermining the spirit of African unity. History teaches us that scapegoating migrants and stoking xenophobia, especially during political uncertainty, has led to cycles of violence and discord across Africa.

Your recent remarks blaming African migrants for Kenya’s economic challenges threaten the Pan-African ideals championed by leaders like Jomo Kenyatta, Kwame Nkrumah, and Julius Nyerere—who believed in a continent united by solidarity and mutual respect. True leadership means facing economic and social difficulties with responsibility, not by fueling public fear or division.

Since your time in office, many have watched with concern as the government has responded harshly to peaceful protestors. More recently, rhetoric against fellow Africans has risked further division. Yet, I am encouraged by the Kenyan people’s resilience and their commitment to peace and accountability. I hope you will listen to their voices and choose a path of unity, justice, and inclusive leadership.

Your Excellency, I am certain you recognize that postcolonial Africa—including Kenya—faces significant challenges, some of our own making and others stemming from close ties with foreign governments and interests. Too often, external actors encourage displays of strongman leadership and pledge to overlook human rights abuses, using Western lobbyists to polish the reputations of their client states. History has shown that such alliances are transactional and rarely endure. I hope your leadership will put Kenya’s long-term interests and respect for human rights above short-term, external approval.

Your Excellency, allow me to commend the remarkable courage of the Kenyan people—men and women, young and old, from all walks of life—who peacefully took to the streets to express their concerns and protest your recent statement. These citizens showed solidarity with fellow Africans, including Congolese and Burundians, recognizing them as kin deserving of compassion and support during times of political instability. This spirit of unity and empathy echoes the legacy and vision of the late Jomo Kenyatta.

Mr. President, it is vital to recognize that political office is not permanent—leaders are entrusted with power by the electorate and can just as swiftly be replaced. Recent history shows that those who disregard citizens’ rights, like Yahya Jammeh and Macky Sall, have found themselves out of office and in exile. True leadership is not measured by force or suppression of dissent, but by the quality of policies crafted in consultation with the people, attentive listening, and a willingness to adapt for the common good. Unfortunately, your current top-down approach has not reflected this inclusive spirit.

Your Excellency, African unity is an ongoing journey and our only viable path forward. Our continent’s true strength lies in our people—our ability to feel at home across borders, to share histories and struggles, and to inspire one another. Even with limited resources, leaders like Kwame Nkrumah and Ahmed Sekou Toure demonstrated that genuine support and unity can withstand external pressures and foster lasting bonds. This spirit remains essential for Africa’s progress and resilience.

Mr. President, as a proud African, I do not define Africa—Africa defines me. The continent has given me a deep sense of happiness and belonging among fellow Africans, united by shared stories, humour, and respect for our people and leaders. Migrants from Burundi and the Congo, though sometimes perceived as poor, have contributed greatly to Kenya’s development. Through intermarriage and cultural exchange, they have enriched Kenyan society in countless ways, a fact many Kenyans themselves recognize and celebrate.

Your Excellency,  I urge you to reconsider your recent remarks, address the nation, and call for peace and unity. True leadership is shown by those who reflect, change course, and make amends when needed. Apologizing for missteps is a mark of strength, not weakness. Kenya stands as a pillar of African unity, and I trust you will help ensure it remains so.

With respect and hope for our shared future,

Patrick Radebe, PhD

Taking a spiritual and emotional hiatus from one’s homeland, only to return and confront its transformation, is not merely a personal journey but a civic duty. For many Black South Africans, the seismic social and economic shifts since 1994 have produced deep inner conflict and a persistent struggle for belonging (Ramphele, 1999; Mngxitama, Alexander, & Gibson, 2008). These tensions are acutely visible in South Africa, where some members of Gen Z openly express troubling nostalgia for Apartheid—a system defined by institutionalized violence and Black oppression (Posel, 2001; Mamdani, 1996). Such misplaced affection exposes the complexities of identity and adaptation in a society still grappling with its colonial and racist legacy.

This paper critically examines statements by figures such as Ike Khumalo, who has recently—and erroneously—claimed that Black life under Apartheid, a regime aptly characterized as a “killing machine” (Lodge, 1983), was better than under the leadership of President Cyril Ramaphosa or Nelson Mandela. Such revisionism not only trivializes the suffering and deaths of countless Black South Africans under racist laws justified by the rhetoric of “national security” (Posel, 2001), but also risks distorting historical truth and undermining the critical work of justice and reconciliation in post-Apartheid South Africa (Mamdani, 1996). Claims that life was better under Apartheid invert the realities of Black oppression and demand rigorous, evidence-based scrutiny

This paper does not serve as a mouthpiece for the African National Congress (ANC), nor do I seek to excuse the government’s policy failures or the external pressures it faces; the ANC is fully capable of defending its record (Southall, 2013). Nor is my aim to gloss over the real grievances and disappointments of post-apartheid South Africa. Rather, I highlight how White beneficiaries of apartheid, often through powerful corporate media, have strategically courted disillusioned victims like Ike Khumalo—positioning themselves as saviours while exploiting legitimate Black frustrations with the Ramaphosa government (Duncan, 2016; Madonsela, 2019). The ANC bears partial responsibility for this, having failed to adequately address the roots of public discontent.

While I understand the Black nostalgia for the Apartheid era—given South Africa’s post-1994 decline into high unemployment, rampant violence, theft, and deepening misery in townships like Mofolo (Soweto), Alexandra, Khayelitsha, and Langa (Seekings & Nattrass, 2005; Ramphele, 2012)—to dismiss the significance of Black freedom under Nelson Mandela and his successors is a profound affront to the memory of those who sacrificed their lives for liberation, including Robert Mangaliso Sobukwe, Steve Bantu Biko, and Chris Hani (Alexander, 2002; Pogrund, 1990). Such revisionism not only distorts history but dishonours the legacy of South Africa’s freedom struggle.

In this paper, I draw on Dr. Camara Phyllis Jones’s framework—specifically, her analysis of internalized racism (Jones, 2000)—to explain why victims of systemic oppression, after enduring protracted disappointment, often blame themselves for their suffering. This framework clarifies how individuals like Ike Khumalo can flippantly portray Apartheid as a beacon of hope for Black South Africans, despite overwhelming evidence of its brutality, while dismissing the difficult but real interventions made by post-apartheid governments (Seekings & Nattrass, 2005). I also examine policy strategies that could help the government rebuild trust and foster nuanced public understanding of South Africa’s challenges. This paper is not an indictment of any individual in the Ramaphosa administration, but an invitation to Socratic dialogue about government missteps that provoke nostalgia for a racist system designed to oppress and exclude Black South Africans.

In race-conscious societies like South Africa, racism is rooted in unequal power relations, historically privileging White South Africans over Black citizens (Steyn, 2001). Under Apartheid, and persisting in subtler forms today, Whites have wielded the power to deny Blacks access to jobs, housing, and opportunity with little recourse (Seekings & Nattrass, 2005). For example, Black South Africans are still excluded from towns like Orania, and the abolition of legal segregation has shifted into financial segregation—where exorbitant property prices and White reluctance to sell perpetuate racial exclusion (Christopher, 2005). Lighter skin offers no shield; anti-Black racism continues to shape daily life in post-Apartheid South Africa (Durrheim et al., 2011).

Dr. Camara Phyllis Jones asserts that racism is sustained through the dialectical relationship between dominant (White) and subordinate (Black) groups; in South Africa, this dynamic has led to the internalization of White supremacy among some Black South Africans (Jones, 2000). Such internalization manifests as learned helplessness, fueling claims like Ike Khumalo’s assertion that Apartheid was preferable to Black rule, or Vusi Thembekwayo’s praise of Apartheid-era law enforcement as “efficient”—statements that dangerously overlook the systematic brutality and lethal violence inflicted on Black communities under the guise of “national security” (Posel, 2001; Lodge, 1983).

Jones (2000a; 2000b) delineates three levels of racism: institutionalized, personally mediated, and internalized. This paper focuses on internalized racism, as exemplified by Ike Khumalo and those Black South Africans who believe life was better under Apartheid. Internalized racism emerges when Black South Africans, shaped by deep-seated stereotypes, attribute present challenges to supposed deficiencies in Black leadership, rather than to enduring institutional legacies of Apartheid or larger structural pressures such as global economic constraints and population growth (Alexander, 2002; Terreblanche, 2005).

According to Jones (2000), internalized racism mirrors the Stockholm syndrome: victims adopt stigmatizing labels and question their own abilities and worth, accepting the myth of Black inferiority and governmental failure (Jones, 2020a, p. 8). This self-deprecation leads to misplaced nostalgia for Apartheid—a regime that violently suppressed Black autonomy to sustain White supremacy (Worden, 2012). Instead of recognizing external and internal challenges confronting the ANC government, these individuals embrace learned helplessness and view emulation of Whiteness as the only solution. This dynamic is starkly illustrated by the Democratic Alliance’s 2024 electoral gains—a party whose lineage traces directly to Apartheid’s National Party (Chipkin, 2007; Southall, 2024). Such political shifts signal both the ANC’s waning influence and the electorate’s deepening disillusionment with post-Apartheid governance.

Addressing Black South Africans’ frustration and disillusionment with the ANC demands that the Ramaphosa administration, and those that follow, abandon elitist detachment and meaningfully re-engage an electorate traumatized by Apartheid and now disappointed by unfulfilled promises (Friedman, 2015; Gumede, 2021). Engagement must transcend symbolic gestures and revolutionary rhetoric, focusing on concrete solutions: employment, security, and tangible improvements in daily life (Seekings & Nattrass, 2005). Policy must be reimagined, appointing technocrats with proven records in economic management and job creation (Southall, 2016). Corruption—real or perceived—must be independently investigated and prosecuted to restore public trust (Butler, 2017).

Strategic investment in youth education, vocational training, and apprenticeships is essential, particularly for marginalized communities most alienated from opportunity (Spaull, 2013). The ANC’s recent electoral setbacks and voices like Ike Khumalo’s are not mere complaints but urgent warnings: unless the government delivers real change, nostalgia for Apartheid’s “order” will grow, and support for the ANC will continue to erode. Khumalo’s remarks are not hatred—they are a desperate call for substantive reform. To dismiss them as isolated grumblings is to ignore the electorate’s ultimatum: fix the country or face removal at the ballot box.

References

Alexander, N. (2002). An Ordinary Country: Issues in the Transition from Apartheid to Democracy in South Africa. University of Natal Press.

Butler, A. (2017). Contemporary South Africa (3rd ed.). Palgrave Macmillan.

Chipkin, I. (2007). Do South Africans Exist? Nationalism, Democracy and the Identity of ‘the People’. Wits University Press.

Christopher, A. J. (2005). The slow pace of desegregation in South African cities, 1996–2001. Urban Studies, 42(8), 1485-1500.

Durrheim, K., Mtose, X., & Brown, L. (2011). Race Trouble: Race, Identity and Inequality in Post-Apartheid South Africa. Lexington Books.

Friedman, S. (2015). Race, Class and Power: Harold Wolpe and the Radical Critique of Apartheid. University of KwaZulu-Natal Press.

Gumede, W. (2021). South Africa’s ANC at a crossroads. Journal of Democracy, 32(3), 80-94.

Jones, C. P. (2020b). Toward the science and practice of anti-racism: Launching a national campaign against racism. Ethnicity & Disease, 30(Suppl 1), 7–12.

Jones, C. P. (2000a). Levels of racism: A theoretic framework and a gardener’s tale. American Journal of Public Health, 90(8), 1212–1215.

Lodge, T. (1983). Black Politics in South Africa since 1945. Longman.

Mamdani, M. (1996). Citizen and Subject: Contemporary Africa and the Legacy of Late Colonialism. Princeton University Press.

Mngxitama, A., Alexander, A., & Gibson, N. C. (2008). Biko Lives!: Contesting the Legacies of Steve Biko. Palgrave Macmillan.

Pogrund, B. (1990). How Can Man Die Better: The Life of Robert Sobukwe. Jonathan Ball Publishers.

Posel, D. (2001). Race as common sense: Racial classification in twentieth-century South Africa. African Studies Review, 44(2), 87-113.

Ramphele, M. (2012). Conversations with My Sons and Daughters. Penguin.

Ramphele, M. (1999). Mamphela Ramphele: Across Boundaries—The Journey of a South African Woman Leader. The Feminist Press.

Seekings, J., & Nattrass, N. (2005). Class, Race, and Inequality in South Africa. Yale University Press.

Southall, R. (2024). The Government of National Unity: South Africa’s 2024 Elections and Aftermath. Transformation: Critical Perspectives on Southern Africa, 106, 1–18.

Southall, R. (2016). The New Black Middle Class in South Africa. Jacana.

Spaull, N. (2013). South Africa’s education crisis: The quality of education in South Africa 1994–2011. Centre for Development and Enterprise Report, 1-65.

Steyn, M. (2001). Whiteness Just Isn’t What it Used to Be: White Identity in a Changing South Africa. SUNY Press.

Terreblanche, S. (2005). A History of Inequality in South Africa: 1652–2002. University of KwaZulu-Natal Press.

Worden, N. (2012). The Making of Modern South Africa: Conquest, Apartheid, Democracy (5th ed.). Wiley-Blackwell.

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.

In this publication, I address a recurring and deeply troubling issue that continues to claim human lives: the prevalence of road accidents occurring under the direct supervision of the Ghana Police Service’s Motor Traffic and Transportation Department. Despite their mandate, this department has repeatedly fallen short in critical areas, which will be the focus of this analysis. Officers are frequently seen using cellphones as drivers blatantly flout traffic regulations, accepting bribes openly, and responding to accident scenes without even the most basic life-saving skills—such as administering cardiopulmonary resuscitation or checking vital signs to assess whether victims are alive or deceased. These lapses represent more than negligence; they are a profound abdication of professional and ethical responsibilities, demanding urgent scholarly scrutiny and reform (Boateng & Akoto, 2025).

The human cost of these failures is staggering. According to the National Road Safety Authority, as reported by the Ghanaian Times, a total of 1,009 individuals lost their lives in road traffic crashes across Ghana between January and April 2026. This figure, while reflecting a marginal decline from the 1,011 deaths recorded in the same period of 2025, still underscores the scale of the crisis. Overall, 4,899 road traffic crashes were reported nationwide in the first four months of 2026—a 2.5% increase over the previous year. Pedestrian casualties remain alarmingly high, with 862 pedestrians knocked down between January and April 2026, compared to 831 in the same period of 2025 (National Road Safety Authority, 2026; Ghanaian Times, 2026). Such statistics are a clarion call for rigorous scholarly engagement and decisive institutional reform. The time for complacency has long passed; what is required now is a candid, evidence-based reckoning with the factors perpetuating this crisis, and an unwavering commitment to restoring integrity and competence to our road safety enforcement mechanisms.

While the primary causes of road traffic accidents in Ghana are undeniably complex—ranging from unlicensed drivers, excessive speed, faulty vehicles, impaired drivers, and poor road conditions—the conduct of personnel within the Motor Traffic and Transportation Department remains, at best, mediocre and, at worst, dangerously complicit (National Road Safety Authority, 2026). This paper focuses squarely on the troubling patterns of police behaviour that exacerbate this crisis. The persistent collection of bribes by officers, which allows unfit vehicles and reckless drivers to evade consequences, is not a secret; it is an open practice, widely recognized and, disturbingly, tolerated by senior police management (Boateng & Akoto, 2025). Rather than being met with decisive corrective action, such misconduct is normalized—treated as business as usual—thereby implicating not just individual officers but the institutional culture of the police service as a whole. The continued acceptance of these practices is not merely a failure of oversight; it constitutes an indictment of the service’s integrity and its commitment to public safety (Ghanaian Times, 2026).

Driving through Accra and other regions, I have consistently observed that many police officers appear more invested in negotiating bribes than in upholding traffic regulations. Rather than focusing on genuine enforcement, some officers initiate interactions with pleasantries, seeking to assess the driver’s disposition before proceeding to fabricate infractions—such as accusing drivers of worn tyres or flickering lights—solely as a pretext for extortion (Boateng & Akoto, 2025).

In two notable instances, I was compelled to remind an officer that he could not confiscate a driver’s license while instructing the driver to operate the vehicle to a police station. Legally, while officers are empowered to seize a license suspected of being expired or fraudulent, proper protocol demands that the vehicle be impounded and towed, with the driver processed formally through the court system—not through arbitrary and unlawful demands. These experiences underscore a troubling pattern: despite their training in established procedures and protocols, some officers prioritize the creation of fictitious offences and the solicitation of bribes over the faithful enforcement of the law. This corruption not only erodes public trust but also contributes directly to preventable road accidents—the very tragedies the law is designed to avert (National Road Safety Authority, 2026). Such conduct is a clear abdication of duty and a betrayal of the public trust the police are sworn to uphold.

The issues delineated above constitute grave indictments not only of the Inspector General of Police and the Ghana Police Service at large, but also, and more pointedly, of the Director General of the Motor Traffic and Transportation Department. A fundamental mandate of the Director General is to ensure “that accident vehicles are removed from the premises of the Motor Traffic and Transportation Units (MTTUs) to ensure the sanity and safety of MTTU premises” (Motor Traffic & Transport Department – Ghana Police Service, n.d.). This directive, however, is woefully inadequate from a public safety perspective. It prioritizes the orderliness of police premises over the removal of wrecked vehicles from the nation’s highways, many of which remain abandoned—deadly hazards on the country’s main roads, often lacking any safety or hazard signage to alert unsuspecting motorists (Boateng & Akoto, 2025). The failure to address these hazards underscores a systemic disregard for proactive, public-focused road safety measures and reflects a troubling misalignment between institutional priorities and the urgent realities on Ghana’s roads (National Road Safety Authority, 2026).

It has become an all-too-familiar and deeply disturbing spectacle on Ghana’s highways: transport vehicles, particularly those ferrying charcoal from the Afram Plains to Accra, routinely carry loads far beyond their engineered capacity. The most egregious violators are the overloaded scrap metal trucks—colloquially known as “condemn”—and the so-called “articulators,” long-haul freight vehicles hauling mountains of cargo from neighbouring countries into Accra, often with their loads spilling well over the confines of their buckets. What is most galling is that these flagrant breaches occur brazenly under the direct gaze of state authorities and the police, whose mandate it is to enforce the law and protect the public. Yet, instead of intervening, some officers idle away their official hours absorbed by phone calls and scrolling through social media, abandoning their posts as the nation’s roads devolve into a lethal free-for-all where the rule of law is all but forgotten (Boateng & Akoto, 2025; Ghanaian Times, 2026). This abdication of responsibility is not merely an oversight—it is an institutional failure of the highest order, one that transforms Ghana’s highways into lawless corridors where human life is placed in perpetual jeopardy (National Road Safety Authority, 2026).

In Accra, it is not uncommon to find long trucks and other vehicles abandoned on pedestrian walkways, a practice that flagrantly endangers the lives of the city’s residents (Owusu-Dabo, Appiah, & Osei, 2024). This reckless obstruction forces pedestrians into the streets, where they must compete for space with vehicles often operated by inexperienced, unruly, and impatient drivers—a situation that has repeatedly proven fatal (Tufuor & Mensah, 2023). Recent data reveal the devastating consequences of such negligence: 862 pedestrians were struck by vehicles between January and April this year, up from 831 in the same period in 2025 (Ghanaian Times, 2026). While this analysis does not seek to impugn the professional competence of Ghana Police Service personnel or the Motor Traffic and Transportation Department, the grim statistics and persistent reports expose an alarming culture of apathy and indifference. The evidence compels a harsh indictment of the prevailing lackadaisical attitude within the police force, which continues to jeopardize the safety and well-being of the most vulnerable road users (Boateng & Akoto, 2025; National Road Safety Authority, 2026).

The solutions to Ghana’s road safety crisis are neither novel nor complex—they are demands that any society valuing human life should enforce with uncompromising resolve. First, the Directorate of the Ghana Police Service must issue unequivocal directives mandating officers to perform their duties strictly in line with their job descriptions. This includes a categorical ban on the use of cellphones and social media while on duty, a basic expectation in any functional police force (Mensah & Adjei, 2022). Second, every officer should be compelled to undergo rigorous, mandatory training grounded in modern, evidence-based policing strategies. Such training must emphasize the immediate interdiction of offending vehicles and their prompt removal from public roads whenever warranted—an approach proven in jurisdictions with lower road casualty rates (Owusu & Darko, 2021). Most critically, any officer credibly accused of soliciting or accepting bribes from motorists should face immediate suspension, eviction from police housing, and, upon confirmation of wrongdoing, prosecution to the fullest extent of the law (Amoako, 2023). Anything less is a betrayal of public trust and a license for continued lawlessness. Implementing these measures requires not only unwavering institutional will but also a substantial financial commitment by the state. A moribund, under-resourced police force is incapable of fulfilling its core mandate as protector of life and national security (Asare, 2020). Ghana cannot afford further equivocation on this issue: the time for half-measures and rhetorical commitments has long passed. The nation demands—and deserves—a police service worthy of its name.

References

Amoako, Y. (2023). Corruption and disciplinary action in Ghana’s law enforcement agencies. African Policing Review, 14(1), 77–94.

Asare, K. O. (2020). Financing public security: The state of police resourcing in Ghana. West African Security Studies, 5(2), 132–148.

Boateng, K., & Akoto, F. (2025). Police accountability and public trust in Ghana. Journal of African Law and Governance, 12(2), 45–62.

Ghanaian Times. (2026, May 2). Road traffic crashes claim 1,009 lives in four months — NRSA. https://www.ghanaiantimes.com.gh/road-traffic-crashes-claim-1009-lives-in-four-months-nrsa/

Owusu, G., & Darko, S. (2021). Best practices in road safety enforcement: Lessons for Ghana. International Journal of Transport Policy, 11(4), 289–304.

Mensah, F., & Adjei, S. (2022). Mobile phone use and professional responsibility among Ghanaian police officers. Journal of Public Administration and Policy, 18(3), 201–219.

Motor Traffic & Transport Department – Ghana Police Service. (n.d.). Mandate of the MTTD. https://police.gov.gh/en/index.php/motor-traffic-transport-department/

National Road Safety Authority. (2026). Road Traffic Crash and Casualty Statistics: January–April 2026. Accra: NRSA.

Owusu-Dabo, E., Appiah, L. T., & Osei, F. B. (2024). Urban transport risk and pedestrian safety in Accra, Ghana. African Journal of Urban Studies, 9(1), 88–104.

Tufuor, J. K., & Mensah, E. (2023). Road safety challenges and driver behavior in Ghana. Ghanaian Journal of Transport and Mobility, 7(2), 203–218.

The Importation and Exportation of Cocaine to and from Ghana: Is the Lack of Narco-Effective Policies Turning Ghana into a Democratic Failed State?

This treatise presents an unflinching, urgent, and scholarly examination of Ghana’s escalating cocaine crisis—a crisis that, if left unchecked, threatens to transform the nation into a democratic failed state. The nation’s entry and exit points have become porous, a fact that is well known but rarely confronted with the intellectual and civic honesty the issue demands. Far too many in positions of authority—within government and the very agencies tasked with safeguarding our borders—prefer silence and obfuscation, treating the truth about Ghana’s role in the international narcotics trade as a taboo best buried beneath layers of bureaucracy and willful ignorance.

Let us dispense with euphemisms: Ghana is rapidly assuming the characteristics of a narco-state. Acknowledging this is neither alarmist nor unpatriotic; it is a necessary act of civic engagement—a clarion call to rescue the nation from the abyss of organized crime, institutional complicity, and policy inertia. The cocaine trade is not a peripheral concern. It is a direct assault on the fabric of Ghanaian democracy, public safety, and international credibility.

This work breaks the silence for the sake of the nation. It seeks accountability from those entrusted with power and challenges the dangerous culture of denial that pervades official discourse. While the focus here remains squarely on the drug trade, it is impossible to ignore the broader ecosystem of corruption that enables such criminal enterprises to flourish—a subject warranting its own rigorous analysis in due course. For now, the task is clear: Ghana must confront its narcotics crisis with candour, resolve, and a commitment to evidence-based policy, or risk irreparable decline.

For in-depth discussion and intellectual analysis on this subject matter, I provide a few recent cases of narcotic imports and exports, which have brought Ghana under the unforgiving glare of international scrutiny and raised profound questions about her standing as Africa’s beacon of hope. This paper is not interested in doling out hollow plaudits to any political party or their acolytes for purportedly mitigating the drug problem while in office—a puerile and insincere tradition among Ghanaian politicians that insults the nation’s intelligence and undermines genuine reform.

I broach this topic because it is, without exaggeration, a grave threat to the security of both nation and continent, as well as to our most precious asset: human capital. Ghana’s youth—once celebrated as the vanguard of the country’s future—are being systematically hollowed out, reduced to shadows of themselves by the scourge of drug consumption. Meanwhile, a cynical subgroup, the so-called mules, has come to see narcotics not only as a vehicle to material gain but as a twisted shortcut to social respect and validation, a damning indictment of a society in distress.

To lend depth and immediacy to this analysis, I will recount two personal experiences at Kotoka International Airport—episodes that laid bare the shocking vulnerabilities in what should be the nation’s bulwark against illicit trafficking. These incidents turned the supposedly impenetrable layers of airport security into little more than a sieve, an eye of a needle grotesquely enlarged to admit even the fattest Arabian camel. Finally, this work will advance concrete recommendations for tackling the scourge of narcotics in Ghana, the subregion, and Africa as a whole. The time for platitudes is over; what is needed is action, resolve, and an unwavering commitment to protect our future.

In 2006, the MV Benjamin—a vessel carrying a massive consignment of cocaine—was intercepted in Ghana. Yet, what unfolded was a masterclass in institutional failure and impunity. Parcels of cocaine, under the watchful eyes of those entrusted with law enforcement, seemingly transformed into cassava powder, a brazen insult to the intelligence of the nation and the international community alike. The aftermath, predictably, was a farce: names of prominent figures surfaced as the architects behind the shipment, but the outcome was as it so often is in Ghana—acquittals, token punishments, and exoneration under a fog of ambiguity.

Norbert Anane Dei, a former detective with the Ghana Police Criminal Investigations Division at Prampram, exposed the rot from within. According to his testimony, officers involved in the drug interdiction accepted bribes totalling US$35,000, and, in a further betrayal of public trust, some officers even siphoned off portions of the seized cocaine—presumably to peddle it themselves (Daily Graphic, 2007; MyJoyOnline, 2014). Such revelations paint a damning portrait of a law enforcement apparatus compromised at every level by greed, collusion, and a contemptuous disregard for justice.

The Georgina Wood Committee, established to investigate the scandal, recommended prosecution of all implicated parties, including then Assistant Commissioner of Police Nathan Kofi Boakye—now elevated to Director of Security Operations at the Presidency in President John Dramani Mahama’s administration. Yet these recommendations, like so many before them, were quietly shelved. No meaningful legal action ensued, confirming a bitter truth: Ghanaian laws, as presently enforced, have become little more than a compendium of empty words, stripped of the power and will to punish those who undermine the nation’s integrity.

In 2024, Dutch national Proeger Delgey Bianca was apprehended in Belgium with a substantial quantity of cocaine after departing Ghana via Kotoka International Airport (GhanaWeb, 2024). Despite clear evidence implicating several officers of the Ghana Airports Company Limited—including senior officer Eric Nartey Yeboah—no meaningful prosecution or accountability followed. Instead, the case typified Ghana’s notorious revolving-door approach: implicated staff were quietly transferred to other ports, while the public was placated with hollow assurances of thorough investigations and staff interdictions (GhanaWeb, 2024).

The official response—a perfunctory reminder to airport personnel not to aid drug traffickers—would, in any genuinely accountable system, be grounds for summary dismissal. But not in Ghana, where corrupt officials remain entrenched, protected by political patrons who value loyalty and financial backing over competence and integrity. This culture of impunity continues to undermine any serious effort to confront the narcotics crisis at its roots.

In 2025, the Narcotic Control Commission of Ghana arrested three individuals suspected of masterminding a 1,158-kilogram cocaine shipment to Belgium—one of the largest such seizures in the nation’s history (Primenewsghana, 2025). This high-profile arrest was not the result of Ghanaian vigilance, but rather the product of intelligence shared by Belgian authorities. The critical question, then, is unavoidable: were Ghanaian officials at the port of departure asleep, complicit, or simply indifferent as nearly 1.2 metric tons of cocaine slipped through their fingers?

Equally troubling is the lack of transparency regarding the aftermath of this case. What, if anything, emerged in terms of prosecutions or institutional reform? Calls for public vigilance and exhortations to report suspicious shipments serve as little more than a convenient distraction—a time-honoured tactic in Ghanaian officialdom, emblematic of the proverbial ostrich burying its head in the sand. Such measures do nothing to root out the real enablers: the officials who, through negligence or active collusion, provide kingpins and their mules with the legitimate paperwork needed to cloak their crimes in the garb of respectability (Primenewsghana, 2025).

In March 2025, Ghana announced the seizure of an astonishing 3,319.66 kilograms of cocaine, valued at an estimated US$350 million—figures rivalling the drug hauls in Mexico (Citi Newsroom, 2025). The sheer scale of this operation signals that Ghana is no longer a peripheral actor but a serious contender for the world’s gold medal in drug trafficking. Yet, in typical fashion, the masterminds—a well-connected criminal syndicate with international reach—vanished without a trace, eluding state agencies and evaporating into the ether. In a move that raises grave questions about procedural integrity, the seized narcotics were reportedly destroyed on court orders without preserving any portion as evidence to bolster the state’s case against the accused (Citi Newsroom, 2025). Such actions not only undermine the pursuit of justice but also embolden the very criminal networks Ghana purports to fight. If the country’s response to record-breaking drug seizures is to erase the evidence, one must question whether the rule of law is being upheld or systematically subverted.

In 2026, Australian authorities intercepted 320 kilogrammes of methamphetamine—valued at A$296 million—concealed in a charcoal shipment traced to Ghana, enough for 3.2 million street-level deals. Rather than acknowledging glaring failures in border security or detailing corrective actions, Ghana’s Narcotics Control Commission issued its routine communiqué, touting ongoing investigations and international cooperation while offering no real accountability (Graphic Online, 2026). This habitual reliance on empty rhetoric over substantive reform epitomizes institutional evasion and allows transnational criminal networks to thrive unchecked.

The cases outlined above are not isolated incidents; they reflect a deeply corrupt system in which insiders—including powerful sponsors—are willing to jeopardize the nation’s health and international reputation for personal gain. These crises are the direct consequence of those in authority willfully ignoring a grave national security threat, abetted by policymakers and leaders whose apathetic attitudes and toothless policy pronouncements merely pay lip service to the fight against narcotics. Issuing directives without legal teeth is an empty gesture, utterly insufficient to arrest the rising tide of drug trafficking.

Even more troubling is the perverse incentivization of criminality: treating cocaine seizures and trafficking as just another facet of the national revenue stream. In this warped calculus, government employees implicated in drug crimes are not held accountable but are instead quietly transferred or subjected to symbolic interdiction, a cynical maneuver designed to placate public anger while ensuring business as usual. Such institutionalized complicity not only erodes the rule of law but also entrenches Ghana’s status as a burgeoning hub for the international narcotics trade.

Below, I present two first-hand examples from Kotoka International Airport that, while not explicit accusations of criminal conduct, expose glaring security vulnerabilities, poor judgment, and an alarming abuse of authority. In 2024, as I prepared to depart Ghana, I personally observed a police officer—of the rank of Inspector or Assistant Superintendent—escorting a woman carrying a child from the departure lounge, bypassing the standard immigration checks and accompanying her directly to the boarding gate. Neither the woman nor the child faced the exhaustive scrutiny expected of airline passengers. It is reasonable to surmise that the officer, likely acting on orders from a superior, was extending an illicit privilege to a wife, sister, or close family member. Such actions, while perhaps rationalized as harmless favours, are in fact emblematic of a deeper institutional malaise—where personal connections routinely trump established procedures, creating fertile ground for security breaches and undermining the integrity of border controls. These incidents, though seemingly minor, signal a pattern of systemic negligence and favouritism that erodes public trust and compromises national security.

In 2026, I watched with growing disquiet as a young woman, arriving on KLM—the Royal Dutch Airline—was met at the baggage carousel by four female army officers: two junior and two senior. For nearly two hours, these officers devoted themselves to assisting her with her luggage. Upon inquiry, I discovered that they had entered the arrival lounge with a senior male officer—presumably the woman’s father—whose authority was evident in the deference he commanded, culminating in a perfunctory salute as her bags were packed onto a cart and wheeled away.

This episode, like those before it, lays bare a broken culture in which rank and position consistently trump the law. Officers who should embody the highest standards of integrity instead exploit their offices to subvert security protocols, extending privileges and facilitating easy passage for their loved ones without regard for the security risks or the dangerous signal it broadcasts to criminal networks: that the mere display of status, real or assumed can bypass the airport’s security dragnet. These instances, compounded by the rampant extortion and bribery at the airport, make a mockery of Ghana’s purported fight against cocaine—a fight that, as these examples suggest, may amount to little more than lip service in the quest for international recognition in the battle against narco-terrorism.

The cocaine industry—an undeniable, deeply rooted enterprise in Ghana—presents a security dilemma of the highest order. The evidence is irrefutable: this illicit trade fertilizes and sustains a complex web of international narco-criminal networks, with kingpins from Colombia, Mexico, Bolivia, and Peru operating hand-in-glove with their Nigerian and Ghanaian franchises. Ghana has become an indispensable node in a transcontinental narcotics supply chain.

The revenues generated are colossal and corrosive, fueling the importation of weapons, fostering violence, and embedding criminal elements within the core of state security apparatuses. Even more troubling, these illicit funds are channelled into political campaigns, effectively underwriting the rise of individuals whose later investigations expose them as mere cogs in narco-organizations—planted strategically in positions of power to advance the interests of criminal syndicates. The result is a cycle of corruption and complicity, where the machinery of the state is repurposed to serve those intent on undermining its very existence.

A toxic synthesis of societal apathy, soaring unemployment, abysmal educational retention, and an unbridled pursuit of money—no matter how illicit—has set Ghana on a perilous trajectory. The nation is manufacturing an army of youth ready to serve as couriers and enforcers for drug cartels and criminal syndicates simply to survive. This is not conjecture, but a reality evident on the streets of Accra and in illegal mining zones, where countless young people can scarcely engage in basic discourse about life or the future.

Many are propelled by the lure of fast money, blind to the catastrophic consequences of criminal involvement. In the informal slums and precarious communities of Accra—Alajo, Conca, Kasoa, Dome, and others—the vocabulary of the street has become common currency: “killer,” “don,” “boss,” “ghetto boy,” “ghetto girl,” “wild.” These words are not just slang, but markers of a societal malaise—a grim testament to a generation seduced by the promise of easy gain and abandoned by a nation unwilling or unable to offer legitimate opportunity or hope.

The solution to Ghana’s drug crisis is unambiguous: overhaul the nation’s criminal laws and penal code. Ghana’s liberal approach—championed by politicians eager for international validation—has made the country a magnet for global drug syndicates. To reverse this, Ghana must embrace uncompromising penalties, such as death or life imprisonment without parole for drug offences, as enforced in Singapore, Vietnam, and Thailand. These measures, though severe, have proven effective elsewhere and would serve as a powerful deterrent. Moreover, any government or public official implicated—even peripherally—in drug crimes should suffer the same fate as traffickers. Trials should be swift, sentences harsh, and the cost of participation excruciating. Only by erasing impunity and imposing real consequences can Ghana hope to avoid becoming a sanctuary for international narcotics crime.

State seizure and immediate liquidation of assets belonging to drug dealers and their accomplices—including public officials—must become standard policy, with proceeds directly funding anti-narcotics initiatives. Any public or government official implicated in drug trafficking should be summarily dismissed, with earnings and pensions frozen pending the results of an independent investigation. Only such uncompromising measures will disrupt criminal networks and restore integrity to Ghana’s institutions.

Combating the drug crisis requires bold, visionary leadership—not leaders distracted by elections, platitudes, or religious dogma. Ghana needs those who will not hide behind slogans or moral evasions when decisive action is needed. Only principled leadership can end impunity and protect the nation’s future. The government must make real investments in youth employment, forging public-private partnerships to provide jobs and living wages. Treating the cocaine epidemic as business as usual is as reckless as ignoring terminal cancer: it invites irreversible decline and the spectre of a failed state. Are our leaders listening? I would not bet on it.

References

Citi Newsroom. (2025, March 27). Ghana seizes over 3,300kg of cocaine worth $350m; suspects on the run. https://citinewsroom.com/2025/03/ghana-seizes-over-3300kg-of-cocaine-worth-350m-suspects-on-the-run/

Daily Graphic. (2007, April 30). MV Benjamin cocaine saga: Ex-cop alleges bribery, cover-up. Graphic Communications Group.

GhanaWeb. (2024, June 18). Dutch woman arrested in Belgium after leaving Ghana with cocaine; GACL officers implicated. https://www.ghanaweb.com/GhanaHomePage/NewsArchive/Dutch-woman-arrested-in-Belgium-after-leaving-Ghana-with-cocaine-GACL-officers-implicated-1923847

Graphic Online. (2026, April 15). Australian police seize $296m meth shipment traced to Ghana. https://www.graphic.com.gh/news/general-news/australian-police-seize-296m-meth-shipment-traced-to-ghana.html

MyJoyOnline. (2014, June 17). Ex-detective reveals how MV Benjamin cocaine went missing. https://www.myjoyonline.com/ex-detective-reveals-how-mv-benjamin-cocaine-went-missing/

Primenewsghana. (2025, March 12). Narcotics Control Commission arrests three over 1,158kg cocaine shipment to Belgium. https://www.primenewsghana.com/general-news/narcotics-control-commission-arrests-three-over-1-158kg-cocaine-shipment-to-belgium.html