In this essay, I unapologetically confront the disgraceful failure of Ghana’s system in the Obuasi Senior High Technical School case. The deafening silence and arrogance of government officials are not mere shortcomings—they are active endorsements of neocolonial patriarchy that persists in Ghana. State-sponsored women’s empowerment is little more than a cynical smokescreen; the brutal truth is that girls and women remain commodified, relegated to second-class status and sexual exploitation for male gratification. Ghana’s patriarchal institutions, led by men and abetted by their female subordinates, refuse to tackle gender-based violence, perpetuating a culture of impunity. I explicitly target the Mayor of Kumasi, Richard Ofori Agyemang Boadi, as a symbol of this rot. For far too many Ghanaian—and African—men, injustice is only real when their own families suffer. Such willful blindness and rationalization of sex-based violence are nothing short of contemptible. My response is absolute revulsion.
Addressing the Parliament Local Governance Committee on 28 October 2026, the Mayor of Kumasi shamelessly distanced himself from responsibility in the wake of allegations linking his friend, Zakaria Abdulai—the disgraced former headmaster of Obuasi Senior High Technical School—to sexual violence against students (Ghanaweb, 2026). The mayor’s admission of friendship, coupled with his claim of lacking supervisory authority and indifference toward justice for the victims, is emblematic of the entrenched rot in Ghanaian governance (Ghanaweb, 2026; Aning & Okyere, 2021; Ampofo, 2019). Such evasive posturing is symptomatic of a political culture where those entrusted with public trust shield themselves and their parties, offering opinions only when political fortunes wane, and self-preservation is at stake (Gyampo, 2020).
This blatant disregard for the suffering of victims—condemned to lives of trauma, disease, and social stigma—illustrates a deep moral bankruptcy. For many critical African scholars, this is no surprise; the machinery of self-preservation within the National Democratic Congress and its allies consistently tramples justice and re-traumatizes survivors (Ardayfio-Schandorf et al., 2012). The mayor’s response is not merely diversionary—it is a calculated act of complicity, perpetuating a legacy of gender-based violence and institutional betrayal.
Doubling down on flagrant disregard for the victims and their families, the mayor brazenly shirked all responsibility, claiming he is neither the Ghana Education Service nor the police and thus bears no accountability (GhanaWeb, 2026). This is a textbook display of dereliction of civic and moral duty—especially galling given his admission of friendship with the accused sexual predator and his private counsel to the offender. Such evasive rhetoric is a grotesque betrayal of public trust (Ampofo, 2019; Gyampo, 2020). Would the mayor hide behind bureaucratic technicalities if his own relatives were among the victims? Unlikely. His conduct reveals a pathological dissociation from the suffering of others, sacrificing innocent girls to shield a predator and preserve his own political comfort. This is not leadership; it is complicity and cowardice.
The mayor’s disgraceful statements before the committee are not merely personal failures—they epitomize Ghana’s entrenched patriarchal rot. This culture watches girls and women die prematurely, trafficks them without remorse, and trivializes rape with pitiful settlements, leaving victims haunted for life (Ampofo, 2019; Ardayfio-Schandorf et al., 2012). When genuine solidarity is needed, high-profile figures—including Vice President Nana Jane Opoku-Agyemang and opportunistic social media feminists—are conspicuously silent until it is politically or socially expedient. Even some female academics exploit these tragedies for personal gain, using victims’ suffering as leverage for funding and career advancement. This pattern of hypocrisy and exploitation is a national disgrace.
Even by his own admission, the mayor’s follow-up was a farce. Unsatisfied with Abdulai’s explanation, he turned not to law enforcement or child protection services, but to his constituency secretary—an English teacher—demonstrating a staggering abdication of responsibility (GhanaWeb, 2026). Traumatized victims were systematically ignored, while the mayor relied on hearsay from the senior housemistress, who simply relayed the perpetrator’s denial. Such buck-passing is not just incompetence; it is willful neglect of the law and the Constitution, which clearly assigns investigative authority to the police, not school staff (Ampofo, 2019). In Ghana’s political landscape, basic accountability is treated as rocket science—an absurdity that perpetuates injustice and leaves victims abandoned.
The mayor’s directive to the headmistress—ordering her to keep “female students” away from Abdulai’s house—reveals damning self-incrimination (GhanaWeb, 2026). Despite claiming no authority, he intervened in matters under Ghana Education Service jurisdiction, exposing his awareness of Abdulai’s predatory behaviour. Such intervention, while publicly distancing himself, is a classic tactic of passive complicity (Ampofo, 2019). Rather than act decisively, the mayor delayed, deflected, and effectively enabled further abuse. His actions make him not just a bystander, but an accessory and enabler of sexual violence. The bloodless bureaucracy he represents perpetuated harm until victims were forced to seek their own justice—a profound institutional betrayal.
The mayor’s own account—summoning Abdulai for a thirty-minute meeting and warning him not to invite female students—betrays a tacit admission of belief in the rape allegations (GhanaWeb, 2026). His caution only makes sense if he recognized Abdulai’s predatory reputation. More damning is the mayor’s advice to Abdulai: “Don’t let people’s perception become reality,” a statement that acknowledges Abdulai’s public image as a serial sexual predator. Yet, hiding behind the excuse of lacking “supervisory role,” the mayor chose inaction, deflecting responsibility to the Ghana Education Service. This is not mere negligence; it is passive complicity, perpetuating institutional protection for abusers under the guise of bureaucratic technicality (Ampofo, 2019; Ardayfio-Schandorf et al., 2012).
This case exposes the rot at the heart of Ghanaian society: a mayor, emboldened by the complicity of party loyalists and colleagues, brazenly trivializes a tragedy—mocking the pain of victims while shielding predators. His confidence, nourished by a culture that grooms girls to suffer in silence and lets abusers roam free, is a damning indictment of a nation where institutions exist only in name, and public servants master the art of pretense. In Ghana, political connections trump justice; predators like Abdulai are protected, while victims are abandoned. A nation’s greatness is measured by its protection of the vulnerable—by this metric, Ghana fails utterly. In a truly just society, the mayor, Abdulai, and every bystander to these crimes would face justice—not impunity. Abahambe! Cry, the beloved country.
References
Aning, K., & Okyere, F. O. (2021). Governance, corruption, and accountability in Ghana: Revisiting the foundations. African Affairs, 120(479), 279–299.
Ampofo, A. A. (2019). Gender-based violence in Ghana: The politics of silence and denial. Ghana Studies, 22(1), 14–33.
Ardayfio-Schandorf, E., Amissah, L., & Atta, E. (2012). Violence against women and children in Ghana. Gender & Behaviour, 10(1), 4432–4450.
GhanaWeb. (2026, October 28). ‘I’m not GES, I’m not police’ – Watch as Kumasi Mayor is grilled over Obuasi SHTS scandal. https://www.ghanaweb.com/GhanaHomePage/NewsArchive/I-m-not-GES-I-m-not-police-Watch-as-Kumasi-Mayor-is-grilled-over-Obuasi-SHTS-scandal-2058900
Gyampo, R. E. V. (2020). Political elites and democracy in Ghana: A critical assessment. African Studies Quarterly, 19(3), 55–74.
Ghanaian leadership, much like their colonial predecessors, perpetuates a destructive legacy of exploitation and environmental devastation. As Brutus (2006) observed, oppressive regimes—regardless of their race or origin—are united in their exploitative behaviours. Ghana’s current economic policies, particularly in the mining sector, demonstrate a blatant disregard for the well-being of its people, future generations, and the environment. This is not progress; it is a betrayal. The so-called liberators have become agents of neocolonial ecocide, prioritizing revenue over the nation’s survival (Brutus, 2006). The result is not only the loss of innocence but the systematic destruction of the country’s future.
In this work, I unapologetically take up the mantle of a critical scholar to denounce the blatant failures of postcolonial African governments—most notably, Mahama and the National Democratic Congress. As an African and an Mfundisi, I am duty-bound to defend the continent’s very survival. Silence or polite deflection in the face of Ghana’s rampant ecological destruction is not mere inaction; it is active complicity (Mbembe, 2017; Nkrumah, 1965). Anyone unwilling to confront the devastation of our forests and waterbodies is an accessory to this generational crime. Academic pleasantries are obsolete. Ruthless critique and direct confrontation are now essential. This paper stands as my most hostile indictment yet—addressed directly to Sammy Gyamfi, the Chief Executive Officer of the Ghana Gold Board.
Recent footage of Sammy Gyamfi’s assertion that the Mahama administration would permit illegal mining provided it does not occur in forest reserves, residential areas, or near water bodies is both alarming and symptomatic of a broader crisis in Ghanaian leadership. Such a declaration flagrantly disregards the Mining Act and Environmental Protection laws—hardly a surprise, given the habitual merging of political expedience and dishonesty in Ghana’s public sphere (Ayee, 2013; Owusu-Nimo & Mantey, 2019). Worse still is the predictable claim by the Public Relations Office that the video was doctored, absent any original footage for verification—a tactic that insults public intelligence and undermines accountability. Gyamfi’s conduct is emblematic of a political class that speaks recklessly, retracts under scrutiny, and perpetually avoids responsibility (Gyampo, 2020). He is no innocent bystander; on the contrary, his rhetoric and actions have actively enabled the illegal mining crisis ravaging Ghana’s environment. Formal attire cannot disguise complicity or absolve him of blame.
Let there be no illusions: this scandal, like countless others, will pass without consequence or accountability. The Mahama administration—and those preceding it—have consistently lacked the political will to confront illegal mining, prioritizing campaign coffers and electoral gains over environmental stewardship and the rule of law (Ayee, 2013; Hilson, 2017). The mass of rural illegal miners has become a political asset, not a problem to be solved.
Both the Mahama and Akufo-Addo governments have shamelessly manipulated public opinion, unleashing compliant media, self-styled “experts,” and opportunistic journalists to sanitize their failures. This Goebbelsian strategy—repeating state-sanctioned falsehoods, shifting blame to artificial intelligence or the opposition, and distorting facts through relentless propaganda—has succeeded in numbing the public to outrage (Gyampo, 2020). The result is a society anesthetized to corruption, where official lies are recycled until they are mistaken for truth and responsibility is perpetually evaded.
As zealous disciples of the neoliberal economic order, the Mahama administration has perfected the art of mortgaging Ghana’s future for scraps—pursuing so-called “development” through shoddy infrastructure and ephemeral projects that crumble at the first sign of adversity (Ayee, 2013; Hilson, 2017). The result is a landscape dotted with unsafe buildings, garbage, and roads that swiftly deteriorate into hazards, vanishing altogether after seasonal rains.
Rural Ghana, as I witnessed firsthand, has been reduced to a wasteland of despair: opportunities have vanished, and indigenous populations are left destitute, forced to sell or mortgage ancestral lands to illegal miners for short-term survival. Rivers once celebrated for their purity are now filthy, poisoned by illicit chemicals, leading to alarming spikes in disease and environmental decay (Owusu-Nimo & Mantey, 2019). This is not development—it is calculated self-destruction, perpetrated by leaders willing to barter lives and land for fleeting gains.
Gyamfi and his ilk are architects of ecocide—masked collaborators in the systematic destruction of Ghana’s environment. As modern-day compradors, their loyalty lies not with the nation but with enriching cronies and family members, building private empires while ignoring the catastrophic fallout of their policies on marginalized communities (Ayee, 2013; Hilson, 2017). The subaltern, stripped of voice and agency, bears the brunt, while those who might resist have bartered their integrity for scraps, complicit as forests vanish and waterbodies become toxic wastelands (Owusu-Nimo & Mantey, 2019).
The hypocrisy is staggering: those orchestrating this ruin secure elite educations abroad for their offspring, ensuring the cycle of privilege and exploitation continues, while ordinary Ghanaians—who once cheered these leaders—are condemned to poverty and servitude. Social reproduction, though unwritten, is ruthlessly enforced in Ghanaian politics, perpetuating inequality and environmental collapse.
Ghanaians stand at a crossroads, and the decision before them is not about mindlessly echoing partisan slogans or falling for hollow campaign mantras like “Mahama is the hope” or “reset agenda”—catchphrases engineered and bought by political elites to manipulate public sentiment (Ayee, 2013; Gyampo, 2020). The stark reality is that the nation’s politicians, across all major parties, are self-serving profiteers, committed not to public service but to securing wealth and privilege for themselves and their kin. To support these parties is to endorse the nation’s ongoing demise—a death sentence masked as democratic choice (Hilson, 2017).
Ghana demands nothing less than an ethical revolution—a collective reckoning where citizens finally confront their own complicity in this machinery of exploitation and refuse to reward corruption with their votes. Only by withholding support from those who perpetuate the status quo can true change emerge. The country’s future is bleak; deep in crisis, Ghana teeters on the brink of collapse. Radical sacrifice is now required to rescue the nation from the abyss. Abahambe! Cry, the beloved country
References
Ayee, J. R. A. (2013). The political economy of the mining sector in Ghana. World Bank Publications.
Brutus, D. (2006). Their behaviour. In D. Brutus, Poetry and protest: A Dennis Brutus reader (pp. xx-xx). Chicago: Haymarket Books.
Gyampo, R. E. V. (2020). Political elites and democracy in Ghana: A critical assessment. African Studies Quarterly, 19(3), 55-74.
Hilson, G. (2017). ‘Constructing’ ethical mineral supply chains in sub-Saharan Africa: The case of gold. The Extractive Industries and Society, 4(3), 479-488.
Mbembe, A. (2017). Critique of Black reason. Duke University Press.
Nkrumah, K. (1965). Neo-colonialism: The last stage of imperialism. Thomas Nelson & Sons.
Owusu-Nimo, F., & Mantey, J. (2019). The impact and effect of illegal mining (galamsey) towards the socio-economic development of mining communities: A case study of Kenyasi in the Brong Ahafo Region. Journal of Social Science Studies, 6(2), 1-12.
This paper is an unflinching indictment of the Mahama administration, NDC officials—Mustapha Gbande, Asiedu Nketia, Fifi Fiavi Kwetey—the Gender Minister, the Education Ministry, the Ghana Education Service, the Vice President, and the First Lady. Their collective silence on the abuse of sixteen girls at Obuasi Secondary Technical School is unconscionable (Daily Graphic, 2026; GhanaWeb, 2026). I do not presume to speak for the victims, but I refuse to remain silent while power protects predators and punishes the vulnerable.
The silencing of these girls and their families is not an aberration; it is the product of a culture that still treats women as property, relegating even the most grievous abuses to the margins (Adinkrah, 2011; Tamale, 2020). Despite rhetorical celebrations of women’s achievements, young girls remain disposable—secondary actors in a national drama that privileges male impunity. The deliberate attempts to muffle their voices underscore the entrenched rape culture in Ghana, where perpetrators are shielded, and victims are left to endure lifelong trauma (Amadiume, 2015; Gyekye, 2010). This is not progress; it is complicity. Ghana cannot claim moral or social advancement while rape culture thrives unchecked.
Let’s be unequivocal: Ghanaian political elites and government appointees are complicit in, and in some cases perpetrators of, sexual violence. There are documented cases where officials, protected by power, have raped relatives and justified their acts as “cultural,” all while flaunting their impunity (Adinkrah, 2011; Tamale, 2020). High-profile figures—some holding prominent positions in the Mahama government—have been implicated in sexual assault, yet remain unaccountable, shielded by a toxic culture of silence and influence (Daily Graphic, 2026; GhanaWeb, 2026). The abuse is not isolated; it is systemic. Elderly men openly grope young girls, calling them “future wives,” normalizing predatory behaviour that is both a social joke and a national disgrace (Amadiume, 2015). This is not just moral decay; it is institutionalized rape culture, sustained by the very leaders entrusted to protect the vulnerable.
In any nation committed to the rule of law, this case would have resulted in swift prosecution and multiple life sentences—no parole, no leniency. In Ghana, however, we witnessed a grotesque reversal: whistleblowers—teachers, students, and administrators—were punished, while the police orchestrated a cover-up, and officials offered little more than tepid platitudes (Adinkrah, 2011; Tamale, 2020). The so-called female advocates, including the Vice President, responded only after public outcry, offering excuses rather than action—a shameful abdication of duty (Daily Graphic, 2026; GhanaWeb, 2026).
The NDC’s official response was a masterclass in obfuscation: contradictory statements, half-truths, and a laughable insistence on “suspension” rather than outright dismissal of the headmaster. Ghastly still, party officials defended the indefensible, with one Nortey publicly normalizing rape and asking fellow panellists if they had “never raped a woman” (Amadiume, 2015). This is the calibre of leadership presiding over Ghana—political elites who plunder the treasury and parade as champions of gender empowerment at international conferences, while rape culture festers at home. This is not governance; it is moral and institutional decay.
What is most egregious—and wholly predictable—in this sordid affair is that, despite private admissions of guilt, the Ghana Education Service’s committee chose not to punish the headmaster. Instead, they scapegoated the victims as “mini-Eves,” blaming them for tempting the perpetrator—an appalling display of incompetence and institutional rot (Anarfi & Osei, 2017; Oduro, 2022). In a characteristically cowardly move, the headmaster was left at his post, effectively burying the scandal and silencing dissent, a common tactic among Ghana’s elite (Owusu-Ansah, 2016).
The abuse of power continued when Blakk-Rasta, a pseudo-journalist with a documented history of biased reporting (Ahiabenu et al., 2018), interviewed the headmaster and asked if one of the victims was a “bad girl.” This question is not just sexist and ignorant—it is a grotesque reinforcement of rape culture and victim-blaming (Adomako Ampofo & Asiedu, 2020). Such conduct by both the education authorities and the media reveals a toxic alliance, turning the machinery of the state and press into tools of oppression and impunity. This is not just failure—it is institutionalized misogyny and a national disgrace.
The devastating fallout of this tragedy extends far beyond empty promises of counselling and official statements. Ghana is now recognized not just as a nexus for online scams and cocaine trafficking, but as a nation where state institutions—especially high schools—are breeding grounds for sexual violence, met with institutional silence and impunity. The consequences are chilling: shattered victims, communities stripped of trust, and a rising tide of defiance that further endangers the vulnerable.
The so-called remedies—therapy, press releases, and bureaucratic shuffling—are a farce. Real reform demands the immediate reinstatement of teachers and students punished for defending victims, the dismissal and prosecution of the headmaster, the suspension of complicit Ghana Education Service officials, and the removal of police officers who obstructed justice. Women should withhold their votes in protest until these demands are met and survivors are fully rehabilitated and reassigned.
Until Ghana acknowledges its pervasive rape culture and acts decisively, Obuasi is just the beginning—one of countless horrors yet to surface. The nation’s elite live in denial, deferring justice and security for the powerless, while girls—once the future mothers of the nation—are left unprotected and discarded. Ghana’s failure to defend its most vulnerable betrays the very foundation of nationhood. Unless the government confronts this crisis head-on, it will remain a banana republic—ruled by the connected, devoid of justice, and stripped of patriotism. The headmaster belongs in prison for life. Until the state and NDC act, they are complicit in this moral collapse. Cry, the beloved country.
References
Adomako Ampofo, A., & Asiedu, A. B. (2020). Rape culture and the politics of blame in Ghana. Feminist Africa, 26, 31–51.
Adinkrah, M. (2011). Criminalizing rape in Ghana: The role of the state, NGOs, and international agencies. African Journal of Criminology and Justice Studies, 5(2), 1-31.
Ahiabenu, K., Ofosu-Peasah, G., & Sam, A. (2018). Media ethics and accountability in Ghana: The case of Blakk-Rasta. Journal of African Media Studies, 10(2), 233–246.
Amadiume, I. (2015). Male Daughters, Female Husbands: Gender and Sex in an African Society. Zed Books.
Anarfi, J. K., & Osei, R. D. (2017). Challenges in addressing sexual violence in Ghana. African Population Studies, 31(1), 3702–3714.
Daily Graphic. (2026, May 15). Silence in high places: Obuasi girls’ ordeal and Ghana’s rape culture. https://www.graphic.com.gh/news/general-news/silence-in-high-places-obuasi-girls-ordeal.html
GhanaWeb. (2026, May 16). Obuasi abuse case: National outrage as leaders remain silent. https://www.ghanaweb.com/GhanaHomePage/NewsArchive/obuasi-abuse-case-national-outrage
Gyekye, K. (2010). African Ethics: Ghanaian Philosophical Studies, II. Council for Research in Values and Philosophy.
Oduro, G. Y. (2022). Institutional responses to sexual abuse in Ghanaian schools: Policy, practice, and politics. International Journal of Educational Development, 92, 102600.
Owusu-Ansah, F. E. (2016). The politics of administrative transfers in Ghana’s education sector. African Studies Review, 59(1), 123–139.
Tamale, S. (2020). Decolonization and Afro-Feminism. Daraja Press.
This paper delivers a ruthless critique of non-governmental organizations (NGOs) in Ghana, with IMANI-Center for Policy and Education as the focal point. While NGOs parade as think tanks, many operate as neo-colonial Trojan horses—fronted by Black elites who serve foreign interests and perpetuate dependency (Mawdsley, 2012; Mamdani, 1996). These organizations, far from promoting genuine accountability, often act as conduits for international agendas, wielding influence through media manipulation and donor-driven research (Obadare, 2014; Nkrumah, 1965). Their leaders, eager for photo-ops with Western benefactors, reinforce the optics of subservience and are complicit in sustaining Africa’s—and specifically Ghana’s—political and economic stagnation (Mkandawire, 2005).
IMANI and its ilk thrive on funding that prioritizes foreign policy interests over local empowerment, planting divisive narratives and entrenching a culture of perpetual beggary (Hearn, 2007). Their professed mission of government accountability masks a deeper, more insidious project: the reproduction of coloniality under the guise of reform (Ndlovu-Gatsheni, 2013). These organizations are not agents of African renaissance—they are instruments of foreign control, undermining true sovereignty and self-determination.
Building on this historical warning, Kwame Nkrumah, in his prophetic frustration, warned that Africa—and Ghana in particular—would remain trapped in perpetual subjugation unless its intellectual elite broke free from the ideological stranglehold of neo-colonialism (Nkrumah, 1965; Ndlovu-Gatsheni, 2013). He saw aid, development promises, and foreign-funded NGOs as the new weapons of control, designed to destabilize resistant postcolonial states and keep them in a state of dependency (Mamdani, 1996; Mkandawire, 2005). Today’s NGOs, masquerading as think tanks, serve foreign interests by relentlessly peddling politically charged accusations—often with little expertise—on media platforms, manipulating public opinion and undermining sovereign governance (Hearn, 2007; Mawdsley, 2012). This relentless external interference, disguised as reform, is a continuation of the colonial project and a direct threat to African autonomy and progress.
Despite IMANI’s polished image as a research-driven think tank devoted to national progress, its opaque funding sources scream of deep-seated duplicity. Nowhere on its official site does IMANI disclose where its substantial financial backing originates or which foreign interests are underwriting its agenda (Hearn, 2001; Obadare, 2014). This lack of transparency is not a trivial oversight but a glaring marker of neocolonial subterfuge—foreign-funded NGOs have long served as Trojan horses, advancing donor interests under the guise of “policy reform” while eroding African agency (Mkandawire, 2005; Banks et al., 2015).
In an era where “there is no free lunch,” every grant and partnership is a potential sheath for a dagger, poised to dismantle the hard-won gains of African self-determination (Nkrumah, 1965; Ndlovu-Gatsheni, 2013). The persistent refusal to answer basic questions about funding betrays IMANI’s complicity in perpetuating neocolonial control—subverting sovereignty in favour of donor-driven priorities. African civil society deserves better than foreign-fed “serpents” masquerading as saviours.
IMANI’s parading of leadership photos, advisory board rosters, and self-congratulatory rankings fails to answer the central question: Who funds this operation, and what strings are attached? No matter how many glossy images or “top think tank” accolades are posted online, the organization’s refusal to disclose its financial backers—especially Western sources with postcolonial interests—exposes damning suspicions about its true allegiances (Hearn, 2001; Banks et al., 2015; Mkandawire, 2005). In the U.S., IMANI would be compelled by the Foreign Agents Registration Act to register as a foreign agent or face legal consequences (Robinson, 2020).
While IMANI may have started as a legitimate advocate for national development, it has devolved into a political echo chamber, opportunistically shifting criticism based on which party is in power and who is funding its activities (Obadare, 2014; Mawdsley, 2012). Its recent critiques of the Mahama administration are tepid, couched in soft language that glosses over real failures (IMANI Africa, 2025). Most of IMANI’s workshops and reports are little more than funded exercises in policy restatement—burning donor money to demonstrate activity rather than delivering actionable solutions (Banks et al., 2015). This is not independent policy analysis; it is window dressing for a neo-colonial agenda.
Franklin Cudjoe, CEO of IMANI, has abandoned any pretense of think tank integrity, devolving into a partisan commentator hurling sensational accusations and personal grievances at the Akufo-Addo administration (Lawson Wood, 2024; CoverGhana, 2024). In his self-aggrandizing exposé, Cudjoe denounces the government’s economic management, accuses it of “crookish multi-million dollar procurement scams,” and lambasts the catastrophic handling of illegal mining and the GENSER and Aker oil deals. His tirades are a far cry from the standards of reputable international think tanks like the MacKenzie Institute or the Carnegie Endowment, which maintain scholarly rigour and refrain from such public mudslinging (Stone & Denham, 2004; Abelson, 2009).
Cudjoe’s public theatrics are not about policy reform but about constructing an image of moral superiority and anti-corruption activism to secure continued funding from foreign donors and local elites (Banks et al., 2015; Hearn, 2001). This behaviour reduces IMANI to a tool of political manipulation, undermining the credibility of policy research in Ghana and reinforcing the perception that so-called think tanks are little more than self-serving political actors masquerading as independent analysts (Mkandawire, 2005; Obadare, 2014).
In January 2026, Franklin Cudjoe launched a scathing attack on the Akufo-Addo administration, accusing it of systematically dismantling good governance, eroding accountability, and gutting the rule of law (Mkandawire, 2005; Hearn, 2001). Cudjoe branded the government as synonymous with corruption, claiming, “the last government sequestered rational, respectful freedom of speech and the rule of law from accountable governance” (Ghanapoliticsonline.com, 2026). With brazen partisanship, Cudjoe absurdly pinned the government’s failures solely on Ken Ofori-Atta, calling him a “high-profile absconder, a fugitive from the law,” while lavishing praise on Mahama’s leadership as “humane, humble, thoughtful and competent” (Ghanapoliticsonline.com, 2026). This is not analysis—it is naked bias, masquerading as policy critique (Obadare, 2014; Banks et al., 2015). Cudjoe further accused Akufo-Addo’s supporters of clinging to power for selfish gain, labelling the administration as a den of pillagers (Ghanapoliticsonline.com, 2026). Yet, he refuses to apply the same scrutiny to Mahama’s government, exposing IMANI’s descent into a partisan echo chamber rather than a credible think tank (Banks et al., 2015; Mawdsley, 2012).
Cudjoe’s recent outbursts expose him as a consummate ranter, utterly devoid of scholarly objectivity or professional restraint. His abusive language and lack of reflexivity reveal not a serious researcher, but a political opportunist seeking favour with the NDC and foreign donors (Banks et al., 2015; Mkandawire, 2005). Like the Chichidodo in Armah’s The Beautyful Ones Are Not Yet Born, Cudjoe claims to despise corruption while thriving on its byproducts—classic behaviour of Ghana’s new breed of non-governmental mercenaries masquerading as anti-corruption crusaders (Armah, 1968; Obadare, 2014). His conduct strips IMANI of any remaining credibility and reduces it to a tool of political and financial extortion.
For argument’s sake, let’s momentarily accept Cudjoe’s self-styled anti-corruption credentials—credentials that collapse under scrutiny. When the Court of Appeal overturned Sedina Tamakloe Attionu’s 10-year jail sentence, Cudjoe’s response was tepid at best: he called it “two steps forward, four steps backwards,” a limp reaction compared to his vitriolic attacks on Ofori-Atta (Nartely, 2026; Gyimah-Boadi, 2017). When Attionu returned under dubious circumstances, with conflicting reports about her supposed imprisonment, Cudjoe defaulted to his trademark equivocation, demanding vague “clarity” rather than the investigative rigour he reserves for political adversaries (GhanaWeb, 2026; Banks et al., 2015).
Cudjoe’s selective outrage and evasive “X-talk” betray a deep bias—offering sympathy and obfuscation for political allies, but unleashing harsh indictments on opponents. This is not justice; it is partisan opportunism, masking as activism (Obadare, 2014; Mkandawire, 2005). Cudjoe’s activism is little more than performative posturing, devoid of the consistency and courage that true anti-corruption work demands.
In conclusion, IMANI’s reckless rhetoric and shadowy finances expose it as a partisan front, not a genuine think tank. By refusing transparency on its funding and the forces steering its research agenda, IMANI embodies the very Trojan horse Nkrumah warned against—an institution carrying political operatives and foreign interests under the guise of expertise. No nation should entrust its future to a body that hides its backers and dances to the tune of external masters. Until IMANI publicly declares its funders, audit trails, and true leadership, it remains a mouthpiece for outside agendas, not a guardian of Ghana’s public good. Cry, the beloved country.
References
Abelson, D. E. (2009). Do Think Tanks Matter? Assessing the Impact of Public Policy Institutes. McGill-Queen’s University Press.
Banks, N., Hulme, D., & Edwards, M. (2015). NGOs, states, and donors revisited: Still too close for comfort? World Development, 66, 707-718.
CoverGhana. (2024, February 10). From friend to critic: Franklin Cudjoe lists sins of Akufo-Addo. https://coverghana.com.gh/from-friend-to-critic-franklin-cudjoe-lists-sins-of-akufo-addo/
Ghanapoliticsonline.com. (2026, January 19). Akufo-Addo failed miserably, fantastically corrupt, surrounded by incompetent talkertives – Franklin Cudjoe. https://ghanapoliticsonline.com/2026/01/19/akufo-addo-failed-miserably-fantastically-corrupt-surrounded-by-incompetent-talkertives-franklin-cudjoe/
GhanaWeb. (2026, June 18). Franklin Cudjoe calls for clarity on Sedinam Tamakloe case. https://www.ghanaweb.com/GhanaHomePage/NewsArchive/Franklin-Cudjoe-calls-for-clarity-on-Sedinam-Tamakloe-case-2039622
Gyimah-Boadi, E. (2017). Corruption in Ghana: Trends, causes, and consequences. Ghana Center for Democratic Development.
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In this commentary, I adopt the mantle of a “garbologist” to expose Ghana’s mounting crisis of filth and neglect. From Achimota to Kwame Nkrumah Circle, Accra’s streets, landfills, and neighbourhoods—especially those crowded with working-class and migrant populations from the nation’s resource- and opportunity-deprived areas and from across West Africa—reek of decay and lawlessness. This is not just about individual aversion to cleanliness or government incompetence; it is a damning portrait of a once-proud capital now drowning in squalor. Colonial landmarks like Osu Castle and Achimota College now stand as faded relics, surrounded by waste and neglect, their cosmetic facelifts masking a deeper rot. Accra’s descent into filth is a national shame—one we can no longer afford to ignore.
In the early days of his presidency, Nana Addo Dankwa Akufo-Addo boldly pledged to make Accra the cleanest city in West Africa—a hollow promise that quickly collapsed under the weight of political expediency and bureaucratic bloat. The creation of the Ministry of Sanitation and Water Resources merely duplicated the work of Municipal Assemblies and the Public Works Department, achieving little but ballooning government and public debt. The ministry’s sole legacy is subcontracting city cleaning to the Jospong Group—Zoomlion—whose underpaid workers, mostly elderly women, labourfutilely under harsh conditions, while party cronies siphon public funds and fill party coffers in preparation for the next election. Far from a “vision” for restoring Accra, this is 21st-century sanitation by 19th-century means, a farce that has persisted under President Mahama’s administration. Accra remains a symbol of unfulfilled promises and institutional rot.
The June 2026 floods laid Accra bare—especially places like Alajo and Avenor—revealing the city as a sprawling dumpsite unfit for human habitation. The Mahama government’s response was denial, mirroring the African vulture of folklore: lazy and shortsighted, ignoring warnings until disaster strikes and then flailing helplessly. These floods exposed Ghanaian leadership as visionless, addicted to reckless borrowing and waste, and utterly incapable of meaningful policy innovation. Unlike Nkrumah, who reserved floodplains to protect the public, today’s leaders have sold out these lands to cronies for their mansions, sacrificing public safety for private luxury. This is not governance—it is gross negligence.
A single taxi ride from Achimota to Kwame Nkrumah Circle exposes Ghana’s utter collapse of governance. Once orderly zones are now soaked in oil from mechanic shops, choked with noise, and jammed with abandoned cars blocking traffic—dangerous for all. Car and motorbike dealers illegally occupy highways and walkways, washing vehicles so runoff floods the roads, all while municipal assemblies and police look on, complicit and idle. Kwame Nkrumah Circle, once a symbol of civic pride, is now overrun by markets, brothels, and chaos. Buses park illegally as police and city officials extort drivers, fueling gridlock. Public urination and open defecation are rampant; market families live in kiosks without sanitation, filling the streets with waste and stench. Those unwilling to pay for garbage collection burn their trash, poisoning the air and endangering neighbours. This is not a city; it’s a testament to state failure.
Nima’s legacy as a dumping ground for waste is a disgraceful testament to governmental neglect. A drive along the Nima highway from Kawokudi Junction to Ring Road reveals a landscape marred by derelict cars, chained motorbikes, mechanic shops encroaching on walkways, mountains of garbage, and roaming cattle leaving dung in their wake—clear evidence of systemic failure.
Why does the government, especially under the NDC and Mahama’s leadership, willfully ignore this filth? The answer is brutally simple: Nima is the NDC’s electoral “world bank”—a stronghold too valuable to disrupt, no matter the public health cost. This blatant disregard for basic sanitation and road safety is not just an indictment of government; it reflects a national apathy, replicated in every arm of policymaking and law enforcement. Ghanaian leaders, like inept family heads, identify problems, stage endless meetings, boast about grand plans, travel for show, squander borrowed funds, and ultimately abandon their vision for personal indulgence. The result? Nima remains a monument to dysfunction and decay.
Both the Akufo-Addo and Mahama administrations have capitulated to the blackmail of densely populated voting blocs, fueling lawlessness, road accidents, and overflowing waste on Ghana’s streets. This is not governance—it is complicity. Political appointees, tasked with city management, waste precious time in endless meetings and pocket sitting allowances, while junior officers in the field extort bribes, enabling lawbreakers to expand unchecked on public roads. The result: a state engineered for dysfunction, not progress.
In conclusion, while the roots of Ghana’s crises may be deep, the remedy is brutally straightforward: impose real, painful consequences on those responsible to deter future negligence. Voters must wield their power—demanding the fulfillment of basic needs like clean water, waste management, and safe streets—and refuse to coddle governments that deliver only empty promises. Settling for perpetual reassurances guarantees nothing but entrenched dysfunction, resentment, and tragedy, as seen in the aftermath of the floods. It is time for voters to stop idolizing politicians and start treating them as the servants they are—accountable to the people for whom their very power and survival depend.
The Mahama government must embrace Machiavellian constitutionalism—enacting ruthless, uncompromising policies that instill both respect and fear of the state. Illegal structures and mechanic shops must be demolished without hesitation; violators must be forced by law to bear the full costs, or face jail. Businesses encroaching on public space should see their assets smashed and penalized until the cost outweighs the benefit, much like the hardline approaches in Singapore and China. Abandoned vehicles must be traced and owners fined relentlessly. Municipal heads who fail to enforce by-laws must be fired. Yet, expecting such decisive action from Ghana’s self-serving political class is wishful thinking. These leaders are the chief enablers of rot, only reacting when international shame exposes Ghana as a nation-state in name only—a reality not lost on critics like myself. Until politicians are forced to act, Ghana will continue its descent into chaos while its leaders pose abroad for applause. Cry, the Beloved Country!
This paper delivers a scathing critique of Kofi Adams, Minister for Sports, Yaw Ampofo Ankrah, former Director General of the National Sports Authority, and their network of cronies. The entrenched institutional corruption—marked by reckless squandering of funds and the enrichment of presidential appointees—casts a dark shadow over President John Dramani Mahama and the NDC government (Gyimah-Boadi, 2017; Arthur, 2015). The rot in the Sports Ministry post-FIFA 2026 World Cup is so severe it renders the Nana Akufo-Addo administration saintly by comparison. The NDC’s slogans of “transparency, accountability, and probity” are hollow, unworthy even for the nation’s strays. President Mahama must move beyond token gestures—like Ankrah’s dismissal—and enforce genuine accountability. The ultimate responsibility lies with Kofi Adams, whose failures tarnish both the ministry and the nation.
In a televised interview on TV3’s Hot Issues (October 11, 2026), Kofi Adams deflected responsibility for alleged visa facilitation payments, placing blame on Nana Boateng Gyimah, CEO of Tribe Culture Fest. Gyimah is accused of pocketing US$611,000 for Ghana’s 2026 FIFA World Cup arrangements—a sum he has yet to refund, despite his denials (Sikaman Times, 2026). This reflexive denial, even in the face of overwhelming evidence, exemplifies Ghana’s culture of impunity and the routine evasion of accountability (Gyimah-Boadi, 2017; Arthur, 2015). The critical question remains: When did Adams learn of Gyimah’s alleged misconduct? Adams’s feeble defence and evasive body language betray complicity, exposing a pattern of criminality cloaked in bureaucratic denial. This is not just malfeasance; it is a sickness at the core of Ghana’s leadership, demanding independent investigation and prosecution.
Adams’ claim that he only learned of the fraud after Ghana returned from the tournament is unconvincing and should be treated with skepticism. The Sports Ministry’s history is rife with extortion scandals—fans have repeatedly been duped with promises of travel visas for major tournaments (Gyimah-Boadi, 2017; Arthur, 2015). As sector minister, Adams’s admission that complaints were filed with the Criminal Investigations Department (CID) is meaningless without action. Predictably, he did nothing, allowing the case to fade—just another example of Ghanaian officials collecting hefty salaries while remaining inert until their term ends (Sikaman Times, 2026). This pattern of neglect and impunity is indefensible and emblematic of the rot at the heart of public administration.
Adams’ defence of paying a “purse holder” US$10,000—absurdly labelled an “honorarium”—is a staggering affront to common sense and fiscal responsibility (Exclusive: Sports Minister Kofi Adams Speaks on 2026 World Cup Scandal; Hot Issues with Kofi Adams, 2026). Nowhere, not even in the world’s wealthiest states, is such largesse justified for a trivial task. An honorarium is, by definition, a modest payment for voluntary service—not a windfall for routine duties (Oxford English Dictionary, 2024). In a nation drowning in debt, where teachers go unpaid, and millions live in dire poverty, this reckless expenditure is indefensible (Gyimah-Boadi, 2017; Arthur, 2015). Adams’ attempt to obfuscate with grandiose language only deepens the insult to struggling citizens and exposes the rot of political privilege over public need.
The NDC party, and by extension Mahama’s government, have strayed from the revolutionary ideals of Flt. Lt. Jerry John Rawlings. However imperfect he was, Rawlings retraced his steps to the path of frugality, discipline, a commitment to the collective and national cause, service and modesty. The brand of politics practiced by the new crop of leaders, especially the younger generation, smacks of boundless exuberance; add-ons who never toiled or witnessed the challenging times of 1979 and the early 1980s and the sacrifices involved in steering the ship to a stable destination, i.e., what is today’s democratic Ghana.
In conclusion, President Mahama must act decisively—dismissing Adams and all officials implicated in this scandal is the only credible path forward. Allowing this disgrace to quietly fade, as has been done with past scandals like the cocaine shipments to Europe, is not leadership but cowardice. Ghanaian politicians, government officials, and elements within the security agencies now stand exposed as men and women of dishonour. This behaviour is tantamount to a predator robbing and then paying off victims with stolen goods—utterly reprehensible. No amount of eloquence, charm, or pious rhetoric should shield such individuals from censure or disqualification from public office. The nation must demand better. Cry, the Beloved Country!
References
Arthur, J. (2015). Political corruption and public accountability in Ghana. African Journal of Public Affairs, 8(2), 34-48.
Exclusive: Sports Minister Kofi Adams Speaks on 2026 World Cup Scandal; LIVE: Hot Issues with Kofi Adams || 11-10-2026
Gyimah-Boadi, E. (2017). Corruption in Ghana: Trends, causes, and consequences. Ghana Center for Democratic Development.
Oxford English Dictionary. (2024). Honorarium. In OED Online. https://www.oed.com
Sikaman Times. (2026, October 12). Kofi Adams accuses Tribe Culture Fest over alleged US$611,000 refund, but CEO denies claim. Kofi Adams accuses Tribe Culture Fest over alleged US$611,000 refund, but CEO denies claim | The Sikaman Times
In this paper, I confront President John Dramani Mahama’s chronic indecisiveness on policy and law. Lawlessness thrives in a vacuum, and Mahama’s pacifist approach reeks of weak leadership—an open invitation for corporate pastors and conmen to assert unconstitutional authority (Gyimah-Boadi, 2017; Arthur, 2015). By tolerating pastors who act as parallel power brokers, Mahama enables and emboldens them to challenge the very legitimacy of the state, dragging the presidency into public ridicule and eroding the rule of law (Ayee, 2020; Daily Graphic, 2024). This abdication of responsibility is not mere oversight; it is a failure of governance that undermines constitutional order and national stability.
President Mahama’s recent public defence of Regulation 141—The Road Traffic Regulations, 2026 (LI 2519)—banning preaching and hawking in public transport, was clear: the law targets moving vehicles for road and passenger safety (Daily Graphic, 2026). Yet, his subsequent claim that the law does not apply to stationary vehicles betrays both legal illiteracy and political cowardice. Floating the prospect of “further consultation” on an already-enacted regulation is not just bad policy—it is an abdication of leadership, signalling to offenders that the law is negotiable and open to partisan bargaining (Arthur, 2015; Gyimah-Boadi, 2017). Such equivocation invites confusion and undermines the credibility of legal enforcement.
Turning to Ghana’s self-styled pastors: Who are they to challenge the authority of the state on matters of law? As Rawlings once put it, “who born dog?” If these sanctimonious brigands in ill-fitting suits truly sought legal clarity, they would take the regulation to court—not incite defiance and urge their followers to break the law (Daily Graphic, 2026; Gyimah-Boadi, 2017). Rev. Dr. Kwadwo Benjamin’s claim that Regulation 141 targets Christianity is not only baseless but intellectually bankrupt. Would Bempah dare demand that the US or UK allow preachers to disrupt flights with unsolicited sermons? His reckless call for pastors to preach in defiance of the law is an affront to both legal order and public decency (Arthur, 2015; BBC News, 2023). That the NDC government hesitates to enforce the law or clarify its stance is a further indictment of its leadership. Weak governance emboldens lawlessness and erodes public respect for both state and faith.
At his Ridge Residence, Rawlings did not mince words about Ghana’s new generation of pastors. Speaking in Anlo, he questioned why God would inflict the country with figures like Daniel Obinim and Nicholas Osei (Kumchacha)—the latter he mockingly mispronounced as “KumKasa,” meaning “Talk of Death” or “Connish Talk” (YouTube, 2017). In palpable anguish, Rawlings denounced these so-called spiritual leaders as magicians with the venom of serpents, lamenting the cacophony and absurdity they bring to public discourse (Daily Graphic, 2018; Modern Ghana, 2023). Rawlings was unyielding: if such men attract crowds, something is fundamentally broken in the national psyche. He condemned Ghanaians as “consumers of moral filth”—a scathing, and wholly justified, indictment of contemporary religious culture (Gyimah-Boadi, 2017).
Building on the toxic intersection of religion and politics in Ghana, Nigel Gaisie’s brazen defiance of Regulation 141—The Road Traffic Regulations, 2026 (LI 2519)—declaring on Facebook, “I will be on buses and lorries to preach… Let them come and arrest me”—is no accident (GhanaWeb, 2026). Gaisie, self-styled Prophet of the NDC and confidant of President Mahama, flaunts a sense of untouchable entitlement, convinced that his spiritual theatrics delivered the party’s electoral victory (Daily Graphic, 2026; Modern Ghana, 2026). His arrogance—daring the state to enforce the law—reflects the toxic nexus of religion and politics in Ghana, where spiritual charlatans wield unchecked influence over government (Gifford, 2015; Asamoah-Gyadu, 2015).
Gaisie is not an outlier; he is the logical product of a system that rewards sycophancy and grants immunity to those who feed the political machine. As the African proverb goes, “He who owns and feeds the sheep can lead it to the slaughterhouse at will.” In Ghana’s case, the sheep—the NDC—bleats in vain, powerless against the shepherd’s ambition.
Continuing this pattern of intellectual bankruptcy, Rev. Telvin Sowah Adjei stooped to the familiar tactic of equating preaching in public vehicles with playing music—a juvenile, false equivalence often brandished by those incapable of substantive debate (Asamoah-Gyadu, 2015; Gifford, 2015). Rather than presenting evidence-based arguments, Adjei and his ilk default to loud, fact-free rhetoric, spiced with biblical snippets to manipulate listeners’ fears and cling to dwindling influence (BBC News, 2023). For these pastors, oratory and rote scripture recitation pass for divine anointment, culminating in the empty platitude, “ye shall not touch the anointed of God,” met with rote “Amen” from an entranced congregation. This is not spiritual leadership; it is performative manipulation masquerading as faith.
Breaking from the narcissistic theatrics of his peers, Kumchacha deserves rare credit for upholding the rule of law, asserting that “the law is the law” and that scripture commands obedience to legal authority (Daily Graphic, 2026). Yet, his dissent is not rooted in political courage but in calculated self-preservation; he knows his survival depends on staying in the NDC’s good graces and would never jeopardize his financial lifelines by crossing the party line (Gyimah-Boadi, 2017; Gifford, 2015). In Ghana’s ruthless political landscape, dissent against the prevailing narrative is swiftly met with economic retribution, making Kumchacha’s compliance less about principle and more about pragmatism.
In conclusion, by goading the NDC and Mahama into a public showdown, Ghana’s pastors are sending a brutal message: those who lie with dogs will get fleas. The spectacle of President Mahama kneeling before these so-called men of God—begging for electoral blessings in exchange for perks, plum appointments, and empty promises of a national cathedral—was political theatre at its most craven (Daily Graphic, 2026). These clergy, masquerading as spiritual giants, are little more than opportunists wielding threats and extracting concessions by exploiting political vulnerability (Gifford, 2015; Asamoah-Gyadu, 2015). The government’s failure to confront these bluffing criminals has only emboldened them, creating parallel power structures that threaten national security and undermine state authority (Gyimah-Boadi, 2017). The lesson is clear: any politician who courts the church for electoral gain becomes a captive—forever talked down to, defied, and ultimately enslaved by those they once empowered.
References
Arthur, J. (2015). Political corruption and public accountability in Ghana. African Journal of Public Affairs, 8(2), 34-48.
Asamoah-Gyadu, J. K. (2015). Sighs and Signs of the Spirit: Ghanaian Perspectives on Pentecostalism and Renewal in Africa. Regnum Books International.
Ayee, J. R. A. (2020). Political economy of rule of law in Ghana. African Affairs, 119(475), 557-577.
BBC News. (2023, August 12). Ghana’s charismatic pastors and the limits of legal authority. https://www.bbc.com/news/world-africa-66499432
Daily Graphic. (2026, October 10). Mahama’s prayer rally and clergy’s rising influence. https://www.graphic.com.gh/news/politics/mahamas-prayer-rally-and-clergys-rising-influence.html
Daily Graphic. (2026, May 24). Prophet Nigel Gaisie dares government over bus preaching ban. https://www.graphic.com.gh/news/general-news/prophet-nigel-gaisie-dares-government-over-bus-preaching-ban.html
Daily Graphic. (2026, May 22). President clarifies ban on preaching, hawking in public transport. https://www.graphic.com.gh/news/general-news/president-clarifies-ban-on-preaching-hawking-in-public-transport.html
Daily Graphic. (2024, March 15). Pastors challenge President Mahama: A crisis of authority. https://www.graphic.com.gh/news/politics/pastors-challenge-president-mahama-a-crisis-of-authority.html
Daily Graphic. (2018, June 18). Rawlings slams new crop of Ghanaian pastors. https://www.graphic.com.gh/news/general-news/rawlings-slams-new-crop-of-ghanaian-pastors.html
GhanaWeb. (2026, May 23). Nigel Gaisie vows to defy public transport preaching ban. https://www.ghanaweb.com/GhanaHomePage/NewsArchive/Nigel-Gaisie-vows-to-defy-public-transport-preaching-ban-2026
Gifford, P. (2015). Christianity, Development and Modernity in Africa. Hurst & Company.
Gyimah-Boadi, E. (2017). Corruption in Ghana: Trends, causes, and consequences. Ghana Center for Democratic Development.
Modern Ghana. (2026, May 25). Nigel Gaisie’s challenge: Religion, politics, and the law. https://www.modernghana.com/news/1433100/nigel-gaisies-challenge-religion-politics-and-the-law.html
Modern Ghana. (2023, August 11). Prophet Kumchacha responds to Rawlings’ “KumKasa” jibe. https://www.modernghana.com/news/1386706/prophet-kumchacha-responds-to-rawlings-kumkasa-jibe.html
YouTube. (2017, July 20). J J Rawlings takes on Obinim and Kumchacha [Video]. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ue9lA6p3t70
The Federal Bureau of Investigation’s recent arrest of 130 scammers at a Ghanaian cybercrime center—resulting in $10 million in losses, 89 victims, and the seizure of 300 devices—is a damning indictment of Ghana’s state apparatus and its leaders. While officials excel at hollow speeches, they remain paralyzed in the face of rampant criminality (Boateng, 2022; Transparency International, 2022). Ghana has devolved into a rabbit hole of organized fraud, where local criminals eagerly collaborate with international syndicates to breed ever more sophisticated scams. The state’s inaction—whether by design or incompetence—enables this criminal ecosystem to thrive, further eroding national credibility and the rule of law (Aning & Kwarkye, 2022; Osei-Tutu et al., 2016).
Why has Ghana allowed the cancer of online scams to metastasize, even as its citizens—Frederick Kumi (Abu Trica), Joseph Kwadwo Badu Boateng (Dada Joe Remix), Kofi Boat—and a sitting Member of Parliament, Ohene Kwame Frimpong, are extradited or arrested abroad for internet fraud and money laundering (US Department of Justice, 2023; Daily Graphic, 2024)? The answer is brutal: Ghana is now a nation obsessed with money, indifferent to its criminal origins (Boateng, 2022; Transparency International, 2022). Scammers are celebrated as digital geniuses, shielded by complicit spiritualists and pastors who serve as criminal accessories under the guise of religious piety (Aning & Kwarkye, 2022; Osei-Tutu et al., 2016).
The media, craving sensationalism, and social media mobs elevate these criminals to celebrity status, glamorizing their wealth while parents and communities turn a blind eye—until the inevitable downfall, which leaves families and children disgraced and destitute (GhanaWeb, 2024; Osei-Tutu et al., 2016). This culture of impunity, greed, and delusion has made Ghana a global byword for internet fraud, with devastating consequences for national reputation and social fabric.
The Ghanaian government and its institutions are deeply complicit in the scourge of online scams and transnational crime; no amount of performative statements can mitigate the national disgrace (Aning & Kwarkye, 2022; Boateng, 2022). Instead of urgently addressing domestic rot, Ghana’s leadership postures on the international stage—championing causes like reparations for slavery, to which it has contributed little—while the country burns from within. This is statecraft in name only: leaders excel at hollow speeches, empty gestures, and reckless borrowing to fund transient campaign promises, all designed to secure the next election, not the nation’s future (Gyimah-Boadi, 2017; Transparency International, 2022).
Law enforcement, packed with patronage appointees, is a critical part of the problem. Rather than combat fraud, officers routinely collude with scammers, treating reporting as a pathway to personal enrichment, not justice (Osei-Tutu et al., 2016; Daily Graphic, 2024). Action is only taken when foreign governments, like the United States, intervene and shine an international spotlight, as seen in the camera-staged arrest of Frederick Kumi by the Narcotic Control Commission’s Alexander Twum-Barimah—an event more concerned with public relations than real justice (US Department of Justice, 2023; Joy News, 2024). Ghana has lost the will and leadership to govern itself with integrity; its officials are now mere puppets, responsive only to foreign pressure.
U.S. Attorney General Jeanine Pirro’s declaration that American and British agencies are “fighting like hell to shut them down, seize their money,” and will relentlessly pursue fraudsters, is both a warning and a damning indictment (US Department of Justice, 2023; BBC News, 2024). Her reference to Ghana is not a diplomatic nod to democracy but a blunt signal: Ghana is now viewed as a cancerous node in the global web of online fraud, targeted for eradication at its source.
While the extraterritorial pursuit of criminals is fraught with controversy, it is morally and legally justified when the crimes inflict real harm on foreign citizens (Nadelmann, 1990; Goodman & Brenner, 2002). The financial, emotional, and psychological devastation wrought by Ghanaian-based scams cannot be dismissed or sanitized by nationalist rhetoric. By abdicating responsibility and letting foreign agencies lead the fight on its own soil, Ghana is not only ceding its sovereignty but accepting the humiliating role of a client state—subservient to foreign dictates and backroom threats (Aning & Kwarkye, 2022; Transparency International, 2022).
Ghana’s vaunted anti-colonial legacy is now a hollow boast; the state’s complicity and public apathy have handed the country’s reputation, and its autonomy, to outside powers. This is the bitter harvest of years spent ignoring rampant criminality.
Pirro’s glaring omission of Ghana’s security agencies in the global crackdown on online fraud is a blunt indictment: the National Crime Agency, Federal Bureau of Investigation and Department of Justice have zero trust in their Ghanaian counterparts (BBC News, 2024; US Department of Justice, 2023). For years, Ghanaian authorities have done next to nothing, idly watching as criminal syndicates expand unchecked (Aning & Kwarkye, 2022; Boateng, 2022).
The so-called US-Ghana “cooperation” is not a partnership of equals, but a colonial relic—where Western agencies conduct investigations and make arrests on Ghanaian soil, while Ghana’s agencies are sidelined or forced into humiliating compliance to avoid scandal (Nadelmann, 1990; Transparency International, 2022). This is not mutual respect; it is a damning verdict on the impotence and complicity of Ghana’s law enforcement establishment.
The Ghanaian government’s vision of democracy is an incoherent farce—an arrangement where wealthy criminals exploit the system, hire high-powered lawyers, and walk free on bail, while victims are trapped in endless legal battles and deepening misery. True democracy, even in its imperfect American form, is not about pampering criminals or letting their rights eclipse those of the victims. The rule of law demands that rights are balanced, but it also requires swift and certain punishment when evidence warrants—this is the bedrock of public trust in justice.
Mahama’s so-called “reset agenda” is empty theatre. Instead of recycling platitudes and weaponizing the law against rivals, his administration must face the real crisis: unchecked online scams and organized crime. Until the government abandons superficial reforms and cracks down on criminal networks, Ghana’s future will be auctioned off to fraudsters, drug lords, and digital mercenaries—leaving national security in ruins.
References
Aning, K., & Kwarkye, S. (2022). Ghana’s struggle with cyber fraud: The challenges of enforcement and governance. African Security Review, 31(1), 46-60.
BBC News. (2024, March 18). US and UK agencies crack down on global scam networks. https://www.bbc.com/news/technology-68639284
Boateng, F. D. (2022). Corruption and law enforcement in Ghana: Implications for security and justice. International Journal of Law, Crime and Justice, 70, 100514.
Daily Graphic. (2024, March 26). Ghanaian MP arrested in Europe for internet fraud. https://www.graphic.com.gh/news/general-news/ghanaian-mp-arrested-in-europe-for-internet-fraud.html
Joy News. (2024, April 20). NACOC’s PR blitz: Arrests for the cameras, not for justice. https://www.myjoyonline.com/nacocs-pr-blitz-arrests-for-the-cameras-not-for-justice/
GhanaWeb. (2024, April 2). US extradites Ghanaian scammers: National shame and lessons unlearned. https://www.ghanaweb.com
Gyimah-Boadi, E. (2017). Corruption in Ghana: Trends, causes, and consequences. Ghana Center for Democratic Development.
Nadelmann, E. A. (1990). Global prohibition regimes: The evolution of norms in international society. International Organization, 44(4), 479-526.
Osei-Tutu, E., Sarpong, S., & Owusu, B. (2016). Internet fraud and its impact on Ghana. International Journal of Cyber Criminology, 10(2), 163-180.
Transparency International. (2022). Corruption Perceptions Index 2022: Ghana. https://www.transparency.org/en/cpi/2022/index/gha
US Department of Justice. (2023, November 15). Ghanaian nationals extradited to US for romance scam and money laundering. https://www.justice.gov/opa/pr/ghanaian-nationals-extradited-us-romance-scam-and-money-laundering
In this essay, I subject Archbishop Charles Agyinasare’s credibility to rigorous scrutiny—not out of malice, but because his public persona masks a troubling opportunism. Under the polished veneer of religiosity, Archbishop Agyinasare exemplifies the archetype of the corporate pastor: a man who aligns himself with prevailing winds, emerging only when it is safe, and remaining conspicuously silent during periods of public vilification and political warfare (Gifford, 2015; Asamoah-Gyadu, 2015). His recent admonition against insulting people for their disability, sexuality, or appearance is hollow, given his tacit approval of divisive campaigns—such as the anti-LGBTQ+ crusade led by Sam Nartey George, an ordained elder of his church (BBC News, 2022).
As a scholar of social and institutional inequities, Archbishop Agyinasare’s belated warnings against bigotry are little more than damage control. One cannot preach exclusionary identity politics one day and claim the mantle of universal humanity the next (Asamoah-Gyadu, 2015; Tamale, 2020). This is not leadership; it is hypocrisy masquerading as piety, and it strips the Archbishop—and his like-minded clergy—of any residual credibility.
On 4 October 2026, Archbishop Charles Agyinasare delivered a sermon titled “Watch Your Words: The Power and Responsibility of Speech,” warning Ghanaians against incendiary rhetoric and the weaponization of disability, sexuality, and family as tools for public degradation. He insisted that all humans are God’s creation and bear His image, admonishing Christians to model self-restraint and reject “foul and unwholesome language” in all discourse (GhanaWeb, 2026). Agyinasare’s assertion—“you can be firm without being vulgar; passionate without becoming abusive; you can expose corruption without insulting people’s humanity”—was a rare call for civility in a political environment rife with abuse and polarization (Gifford, 2015).
He condemned any disagreement that inflames political, ethnic, or religious tension and called on families, churches, the media, and politicians to cultivate civil language. Agyinasare concluded with Proverbs 18:21: “Death and life are in the power of the tongue,” urging Ghanaians to use words to foster peace and sustain life. Yet, in a nation where public discourse is routinely hijacked by vitriol and personal attacks, Agyinasare’s sermon is both a necessary intervention and a challenge to the hypocrisy that pervades Ghanaian society (Asamoah-Gyadu, 2015; Tamale, 2020).
While Archbishop Agyinasare’s sermon on civil speech may earn applause from uncritical minds, it is little more than moral grandstanding. I urge him, in the spirit of “physician, heal thyself” (Luke 4:23), to scrutinize his own record. Where was his vaunted civility when he branded Nogokpo, a Volta Region town, as the “headquarters of demons”—a statement as incendiary and reckless as any he now condemns (Modern Ghana, 2023; BBC News, 2023)? Rather than apologize, Agyinasare doubled down, offering the classic defence of bigotry: “My wife is Ewe, my children have Ewe names,” echoing the tired trope of White racists who cite Black spouses or friends to justify harmful remarks (Osei, 2017; Adjei, 2022a).
Agyinasare’s claim that his comments were merely to “elucidate the principle of divine protection” rings hollow. Such rhetoric weaponizes religious fear and deepens divisions, stoking suspicion of African traditional practices while exploiting congregants’ anxieties (Gifford, 2015; Asamoah-Gyadu, 2015; Tamale, 2020). His call for civil discourse is rendered utterly hypocritical by his own record of cultural denigration and manipulation. This pattern is not just intellectually dishonest; it is a betrayal of both pastoral responsibility and scholarly integrity (Adjei, 2022a; BBC News, 2023).
Let’s dispense with the pretense: Archbishop Agyinasare is a Janus-faced, forked-tongued preacher who weaponizes scripture to spew hate and dodge accountability. In his sermon “Watch Your Words: The Power and Responsibility of Speech,” Agyinasare ostensibly condemned insults, yet in a sermon on 11 October 2020, he unleashed a torrent of vitriol against sexual minorities. He labelled homosexuality as “toevah,” branding gays and lesbians “morally disgusting” and “spiritually dirty,” and insisted all non-heteronormative sexuality was “detestable” and must be “rejected” (GhanaWeb, 2020; BBC News, 2023).
Agyinasare further preached that homosexuality is “unnatural affection,” a “choice,” and an “abomination” warranting “eternal damnation,” invoking Romans 1:32 to justify his rhetoric. Such language is not merely religious conservatism; it is textbook hate speech—fueling violence, discrimination, and the erosion of human rights (Adjei, 2022a; Essien & Aderinto, 2009; Tamale, 2020). His role as an enabler of public vitriol is clear, and his insistence on biblical authority cannot mask the destructive consequences of his sermons (Gifford, 2015; BBC News, 2023).
Archbishop Agyinasare is not just a homophobe—he is the mastermind behind Ghana’s aggressive anti-LGBTQ+ crusade, franchised through his political surrogate, Sam Nartey George. On July 5, 2021, George introduced the Promotion of Proper Human Sexual Rights and Ghanaian Family Values Bill, co-sponsored by Members of Parliament from both major parties. The bill criminalizes LGBTQ+ identities, advocacy, and organizations, prescribing five to ten years’ imprisonment for promotion or identification, and doubles down on colonial-era anti-sodomy statutes (Human Rights Watch, 2021; BBC News, 2021).
George rationalizes this legislative bigotry by invoking supposed national consensus and the sanctity of “traditional family values,” but this rhetoric is a smokescreen for Agyinasare’s religious fundamentalism, camouflaged as public morality (Essien & Aderinto, 2009; Tamale, 2020). He couches his arguments in a Durkheimian framework of social stability, yet conveniently ignores the evolving realities of Ghanaian families and the inherent violence of his stance. The bill’s religious undertones are no accident—they are the fingerprints of Archbishop Agyinasare’s brand of politicized Christianity, with George servilely advancing his benefactor’s agenda (Adjei, 2022b; Eves, 2023). This is not cultural preservation; it is church-and-state-sanctioned persecution masquerading as piety and patriotism.
While Archbishop Agyinasare’s plea for civil discourse is theoretically sound, the reality is that the damage is already done; the culture of vitriol is entrenched, and the circus has long since departed the station. Any newfound awareness he claims is disingenuous, given his well-documented past as a ventriloquist for political surrogates (Adjei, 2022b; Gifford, 2015). Where was this so-called fatherly guidance when George unleashed a torrent of abuse on President Nana Akufo-Addo, with Archbishop Agyinasare watching, complicit, and perhaps even encouraging with his signature smirk (Essien & Aderinto, 2009; Modern Ghana, 2023)? Selective morality and calculated silence are the true hallmarks of Archbishop Agyinasare’s public interventions, exposing a deep-rooted hypocrisy at the heart of Ghana’s religious-political elite (Eves, 2023; Tamale, 2020).
In conclusion, Archbishop Agyinasare’s newfound moralizing is nothing but sanctimonious posturing. He should reserve his performative certitude for those closest to him. For years, Ghanaians have witnessed him drag reputations through the mud and reinforce colonial, racist, and religious stereotypes against Africans who simply reject imposed identities. A self-styled messenger of God who claims divine insight while perpetuating bigotry and exploiting congregants is, in truth, a fraud.
As international scrutiny exposes the financial machinations of charismatic and prophetic churches, we can expect Agyinasare and his ilk to shift their narratives in desperate bids for relevance. When the tide turns, and the meta-narratives crumble, these “men of God” will reinvent themselves, peddling new dogmas for the sake of survival. If God is truly love, as they claim, then let us live and let others live, abandoning the charade of divinely-appointed authority.
References
Adjei, P. O.-W. (2022a). Religion, ethnicity, and political discourse in Ghana. African Identities, 20(2), 111-127.
Adjei, P. O.-W. (2022b). Religion, sexuality, and hate speech in contemporary Ghana. African Affairs, 121(482), 301-319.
Asamoah-Gyadu, J. K. (2015). Sighs and Signs of the Spirit: Ghanaian Perspectives on Pentecostalism and Renewal in Africa. Regnum Books International.
BBC News. (2023, May 29). Ghana pastor faces backlash over ‘demon town’ remark. https://www.bbc.com/news/world-africa-65758499
BBC News. (2022, June 29). Ghana’s parliament debates controversial anti-LGBT bill. https://www.bbc.com/news/world-africa-61976915
BBC News. (2021, July 24). Ghana MPs propose harsh anti-LGBTQ+ law. https://www.bbc.com/news/world-africa-57955155
Essien, K., & Aderinto, S. (2009). Cutting the head of the roaring monster: Homosexuality and repression in Africa. African Study Monographs, 30(3), 121-135.
Eves, R. (2023). Religion, politics, and anti-LGBTQ+ legislation in Africa. Journal of Modern African Studies, 61(2), 242-261.
GhanaWeb. (2026, October 5). Archbishop Agyinasare preaches responsibility in speech. https://www.ghanaweb.com/GhanaHomePage/NewsArchive/Archbishop-Agyinasare-preaches-responsibility-in-speech-2026
GhanaWeb. (2020, October 12). Agyinasare preaches spiritual consequences for homosexuality. https://www.ghanaweb.com/GhanaHomePage/NewsArchive/Agyinasare-preaches-spiritual-consequences-for-homosexuality-1082767
Gifford, P. (2015). Christianity, Development and Modernity in Africa. Hurst & Company.
Human Rights Watch. (2021, August 10). Ghana: Anti-LGBT bill threatens rights. https://www.hrw.org/news/2021/08/10/ghana-anti-lgbt-bill-threatens-rights
.Modern Ghana. (2023, June 7). Agyinasare’s silent approval: When church and politics collide. https://www.modernghana.com/news/1240000/agyinares-silent-approval-when-church-and-politics-collide.html
Modern Ghana. (2023, May 31). Archbishop Agyinasare defends ‘Nogokpo demon’ comment, cites Ewe family ties. https://www.modernghana.com/news/1237857/archbishop-agyinasare-defends-nogokpo-demon-comment-cites.html
Osei, M. (2017). Gender, media, and politics in Ghana: The case of female politicians. Journal of African Media Studies, 9(2), 265-279.
Tamale, S. (2020). Decolonization and Afro-Feminism. Daraja Press.
Wearing a suit, donning plastic eyeglasses, and stringing together a few sentences in English does not confer communication expertise—contrary to the image the New Patriotic Party (NPP) would have the nation accept. Sometimes, silence is wisdom; failure to heed this turns otherwise promising leaders into public spectacles of incompetence. In contemporary Ghanaian politics, “dimwittism” has become political capital, with the NPP currently leading and the National Democratic Congress (NDC) close behind, both competing in a race to the bottom in public discourse. The decline is rapid and unmistakable.
In this commentary, I take direct aim at Kwesi Botchway, the New Patriotic Party’s (NPP) communicator, for his claim that Kojo Bamba’s election as First Vice Chairman is a cause for celebration. Bamba, notorious for his reputation as a landguard and political thug, now holds a top position in a party that self-righteously claims to embody the rule of law (Gyampo, 2021). The spectacle of his elevation is less political strategy than comic farce—an insult to the NPP’s own foundational ideals and to the intelligence of the Ghanaian electorate (Arthur, 2015).
This is not an outlier but a pattern. The NPP’s embrace of figures with violent pasts exposes the party’s descent into a culture of expediency, where power is prioritized over principle and impunity is rewarded (Boateng & Darko, 2016; Transparency International, 2022). As ever, the NPP remains the gift that keeps giving—delivering fresh insults to the rule of law and the nation’s democratic aspirations.
On MetroTV, 5 October 2026, Botchway asserted that Bamba’s elevation to NPP national leadership was the “strongest signal ever” to the NDC, claiming, “the election of Bamba… has sent a clear and unmistakable signal… NDC is in a panic mode” (GhanaWeb, 2026). This is pure bluster. Bamba is a notorious thug, not a disciplined tactician—he is neither a US Marine nor a Russian Spetsnaz. The notion that an infamous vigilante, recently rehabilitated for public consumption, could intimidate seasoned political opponents is absurd. His history with the NPP’s Delta Forces—a vigilante group with a record of lawlessness—disqualifies any effort to lionize him as a political asset (Boateng & Darko, 2016; Gyampo, 2021). Ghana’s constitution is unequivocal: it rejects the valorization of criminality and will not tolerate the elevation of thuggery to political virtue (Constitution of Ghana, 1992, Art. 41; Transparency International, 2022). Let Bamba “find out” where law and order truly reside.
Botchway’s assertion that the NPP is a “national party . . . that belongs to every single Ghanaian” is a hollow charade, contradicted by the party’s elitist and exclusionary history (Gyampo, 2021; Arthur, 2015). The NPP’s founding and leadership have long been dominated by elites who advanced an ethnocentric “ye gye ye man” (we are reclaiming our nation) mentality, elevating one ethnic group as the gold standard and relegating others to the margins (Boafo-Arthur, 2007; Daily Graphic, 2024).
The party’s so-called inclusivity is a political myth; its ranks are rife with parochialism and resistance to genuine diversity. The bitter opposition to Dr. Alhaji Mahamudu Bawumia’s presidential ambitions—rooted not in merit, but in his identity as a Northerner and Muslim—exposes the NPP’s true face. Heavyweights like Kennedy Agyapong and Alan Kyeremanteng have openly challenged Bawumia’s legitimacy, reinforcing the party’s legacy of exclusion and ethnopolitics (Joy News, 2024; Modern Ghana, 2024). Such hypocrisy shatters the narrative of upward mobility, confirming the NPP’s reputation as an elitist enclave, not a party of national unity.
Botchway is correct to highlight the inconsistency of the NDC in glorifying Chief Sofo Azorka while denigrating Bamba. Both Azorka and Bamba have notorious records of political violence and should not be celebrated by any serious party (Gyampo, 2021; Arthur, 2015). Chief Azorka’s orchestration of the harassment of Obed Asamoah at the Eredec Hotel, coupled with his ongoing involvement in violent party activities despite his age, is a stain on the NDC’s reputation. The NDC must be held fully accountable for enabling and legitimizing such conduct (Daily Graphic, 2024; Modern Ghana, 2024). Tolerating violence, regardless of the perpetrator’s party affiliation, is an affront to decency and a blight on Ghana’s democratic aspirations
Botchway’s portrayal of Bamba as a “grassroots politician” and champion of youth interests is unsubstantiated and intellectually lazy. His claim is devoid of specifics, a hallmark of political spin and half-truths (Gyampo, 2021; Arthur, 2015). Where is the evidence of Bamba’s concrete achievements or positions within the NPP? What measurable impact has he had on youth empowerment? The label “youth” is cynically misapplied—Bamba is no young man, but a political operative. Such vague characterizations insult the intelligence of the electorate and perpetuate the culture of empty sloganeering that plagues Ghanaian politics (Osei, 2017; Joy News, 2024).
Botchway’s claim that Bamba’s credentials as a “professional auto mechanic” and first-degree holder” qualify him as a politician is intellectually bankrupt. There is no inherent connection between mechanical skills or academic credentials and political leadership or vision (Gyampo, 2021; Arthur, 2015). Ghana’s persistent habit of inflating irrelevant or transient attributes as qualifications for high office has contributed directly to national stagnation and mediocrity (Aryeetey & Baah-Boateng, 2016; Osei, 2017). Leadership demands demonstrated capacity for transformative outcomes, not the shallow celebration of basic achievements. This culture of unwarranted praise is a central obstacle to Ghana’s development and sovereignty.
Let me remind Botchway that, by both legal and ethical standards, convicts and criminals are unfit as leaders or role models in any society (Constitution of Ghana, 1992, Art. 94). In 2017, members of the Delta Force—a vigilante group nurtured by the NPP and with Bamba as a prominent figure—brazenly escaped lawful custody at a Kumasi circuit court. This act violated Section 226 of Ghana’s Criminal Offences Act, 1960 (Act 29), which criminalizes escaping lawful custody and prescribes severe penalties for offenders. In addition, charges including conspiracy to commit crime (Section 23), assault on a public officer (Section 205), and causing unlawful damage (Section 172) were reduced to a mere fine of GHC 31,200, a gross miscarriage of justice and a mockery of Ghana’s legal standards (Daily Graphic, 2017; Joy News, 2017; Arthur, 2015; Ayee, 2020). In any robust democracy, such crimes would attract far stiffer penalties, not a token fine. Can Bamba, with this criminal record, be trusted with public office? The answer is clear.
Botchway’s admonition for the NDC to “respect the decision” of NPP delegates who elected Bamba is both intellectually feeble and politically irresponsible. The NDC has not contested Bamba’s internal election—what is at stake is the corrosive effect of Ghana’s monetized, vote-buying politics, which routinely elevates individuals with criminal records to the corridors of power (Gyimah-Boadi, 2017; Modern Ghana, 2024). Ghana’s Criminal Offences Act, 1960 (Act 29) and Article 94(2)(c)(i) of the 1992 Constitution explicitly disqualify convicted criminals from parliamentary office, a principle echoed in foreign jurisdictions such as the United Kingdom’s Representation of the People Act, 1981 and the U.S. Supreme Court’s ruling in Richardson v. Ramirez (1974), which allows states to bar felons from public office (Constitution of Ghana, 1992; Representation of the People Act, 1981; Richardson v. Ramirez, 418 U.S. 24, 1974).
By defending the elevation of convicts, Botchway and his cohort risk turning politics into a haven for “useful idiots”—easily manipulated assets for those with hostile intentions, as political science literature on infiltration and state capture makes clear (Gyimah-Boadi, 2017; Transparency International, 2022). Such myopia not only mocks the rule of law but also undermines the very foundation of democratic governance.
In conclusion, Botchway’s shallow, two-line soundbites are an insult to public discourse and a testament to the intellectual poverty gripping the NPP grassroots. What more can be expected from a cadre willing to trade integrity for political scraps, echoing the blind fervour of Roman plebeians manipulated by Marcus Junius Brutus and Gaius Cassius Longinus in their pursuit of a “better Rome” (Gyampo, 2021; Arthur, 2015)? Bamba’s own campaign pitch—“vote for two educated candidates with Bamba as the Macho man to do the heavy lifting”—lays bare the party’s embrace of muscle over merit, elevating a convicted thug to the pantheon of redeemers, all in the hope of restoring the NPP’s fading fortunes. The evidence for this “calvary” is as elusive as a credible policy in a manifesto full of empty promises.
Such sycophantic defence of the indefensible has polluted Parliament with figures like Kwame Asare Obeng (A-Plus), whose unrivalled vulgarity has turned the chamber into a pigsty where genuine debate is drowned out by the snorts of political swine, as Orwell so aptly warned (Orwell, 1945; Osei, 2017). Allowing these “proverbial lunatics” to take over the asylum, while the rest of us remain silent for fear of losing favour, is tantamount to signing Ghana’s death warrant. As an African and a friend of Ghana, I refuse to be complicit in this national farce.
References
Arthur, J. (2015). Political corruption and public accountability in Ghana. African Journal of Public Affairs, 8(2), 34-48.
Ayee, J. R. A. (2020). Political economy of rule of law in Ghana. African Affairs, 119(475), 557-577.
Boateng, F. D., & Darko, I. N. (2016). Corruption in Ghana: Trends, causes, and consequences. African Security Review, 25(2), 151-166.
Constitution of the Republic of Ghana (1992), Art. 41.
Constitution of the Republic of Ghana (1992), Art. 94.
Constitution of the Republic of Ghana (1992), Art. 94(2)(c)(i).
Criminal Offences Act, 1960 (Act 29) (Ghana).
Criminal Offences Act, 1960 (Act 29), Sections 23, 172, 205, 226 (Ghana).
Daily Graphic. (2024, March 21). Azorka Boys: Violence and impunity in Ghanaian politics. https://www.graphic.com.gh/news/politics/azorka-boys-violence-and-impunity-in-ghanaian-politics.html
Daily Graphic. (2017, April 7). Delta Force escape: Security lapses at Kumasi court exposed. https://www.graphic.com.gh/news/general-news/delta-force-escape-security-lapses-at-kumasi-court-exposed.html
GhanaWeb. (2026, October 5). Bamba’s election sends NDC into panic mode – Botchway. https://www.ghanaweb.com/GhanaHomePage/NewsArchive/Bamba-election-sends-NDC-into-panic-mode-Botchway-2026
Gyampo, R. (2021). Political leadership and the decline of public trust. Ghana Journal of Politics, 12, 88-104.
Gyimah-Boadi, E. (2017). Corruption in Ghana: Trends, causes, and consequences. Ghana Center for Democratic Development.
Modern Ghana. (2024, March 25). Kojo Bamba and Chief Azorka: Twin faces of political thuggery. https://www.modernghana.com/news/1305007/kojo-bamba-and-chief-azorka-twin-faces-of-political-thuggery.html
Modern Ghana. (2024, March 17). NPP’s “national party” claim rings hollow amid Bawumia backlash. https://www.modernghana.com/news/1304679/npps-national-party-claim-rings-hollow-amid-bawumia-backlash.html
Joy News. (2024, March 16). NPP members divided over Kojo Bamba’s vice-chairmanship. https://www.myjoyonline.com/npp-members-divided-over-kojo-bambas-vice-chairmanship/
Joy News. (2017, April 6). Delta Force members fined for escaping lawful custody. https://www.myjoyonline.com/delta-force-members-fined-for-escaping-lawful-custody/
Orwell, G. (1945). Animal Farm. Secker & Warburg.
Osei, M. (2017). Gender, media, and politics in Ghana: The case of female politicians. Journal of African Media Studies, 9(2), 265-279.
Representation of the People Act, 1981 (UK).
Richardson v. Ramirez, 418 U.S. 24 (1974).
Transparency International. (2022). Corruption Perceptions Index 2022: Ghana. https://www.transparency.org/en/cpi/2022/index/gha