In this publication, I use the term “death for two notations” to articulate both my profound disappointment in politicians from the Northern regions of Ghana—particularly in the era of the Fourth Republic—and my concern about the persistent material deprivation imposed on citizens of the North. These men and women, whose substantial contributions to national development are undeniable and ongoing, continue to form the backbone of the nation’s labour force. Nevertheless, they remain relegated to menial occupations, such as waste collection and the porting of goods for minimal compensation, in order to support their families within their respective communities. This paradox underscores a pressing need for scholarly reflection on the socio-economic disparities that persist despite the North’s enduring role in Ghana’s progress.
While I refrain from taking a strident swipe at Ghanaian politicians—whose proclivity for empty rhetoric and colourful, cacophonous speeches often betrays a lack of linguistic coherence—I must assert that the exploitation of voters from the North, followed by their abandonment after election victories, is both immoral and deeply troubling. What have citizens from the Northern regions done to warrant such neglect, marginalization, stereotyping, and mistreatment from the governments of the two major political parties—the National Democratic Congress and the New Patriotic Party—whose prominent leaders, Mr. John Dramani Mahama and Dr. Mahamudu Bawumia, are themselves natives of the North? It is unjustifiable that these communities are continually regarded as undeserving of their fair share of the national cake, particularly in terms of equitable investment and opportunities that could stem the flow of human labour from the North to the South. Such persistent underdevelopment only serves to entrench poverty and hasten the decline of peoples who have, historically, contributed immensely to the nation’s progress without demanding significant recompense.
What have citizens from the Northern regions done to warrant such neglect, marginalization, stereotyping, and mistreatment from the governments of the two major political parties—the National Democratic Congress and the New Patriotic Party—whose prominent leaders, Mr. John Dramani Mahama and Dr. Mahamudu Bawumia, are themselves natives of the North? It is unjustifiable that these communities are continually regarded as undeserving of their fair share of the national cake, particularly in terms of equitable investment and opportunities that could stem the flow of human labour from the North to the South. Such persistent underdevelopment only serves to entrench poverty and hasten the decline of peoples who have, historically, contributed immensely to the nation’s progress without demanding significant recompense.
During my recent visits to the country, I undertook purposeful observations in Accra’s markets, engaging with porters and interviewing garbage collectors. Strikingly, nearly all of these individuals originate from the Northern regions. The men were, at minimum, nominally educated, typically holding Junior Secondary certificates. The women, working as porters, laboured under the nation’s scorching sun; some pulled carts laden with food while carrying their young children on their backs. These women, in particular, are reduced to beasts of burden, compelled by structural inequity to migrate to Accra in pursuit of opportunities that remain persistently elusive. This lived reality stands as a stark testament to the enduring patterns of marginalization and forced migration that continue to disadvantage citizens of the North.
The men and women, that is, migrant workers from the Northern regions whom I interviewed, expressed a unified aspiration: they seek to be treated with respect and to be afforded equal opportunities, not handouts during elections or empty promises. They desire genuine opportunities that grant them access to work, enabling them to earn a decent living and support their families and communities. Their ambitions are clear—they wish to be measured by their contributions to national development, rather than be placated with transient favours or crumbs that can be withdrawn at the whim of patrons whenever they fall out of favour.
The irony of the plight of Ghanaians from the Northern regions is stark: even though the political levers of the nation are predominantly controlled by their own kinsmen and women—politicians such as the current president, John Dramani Mahama, Alban Sumana Kingsford Bagbin, Mahama Ayariga, Haruna Iddrisu, James Agalga, Dr. Mahamudu Bawumia, Dominic Aduna Bingab Nitiwul, and Samuel Abu Jinapor—these leaders, in various ways and to varying degrees, have repeatedly promised Northern voters a paradise, only to underdeliver. This persistent pattern has deepened disappointment and entrenched acute poverty within their communities.
The men and women, that is, migrant workers from the Northern regions whom I interviewed, expressed a unified aspiration: they seek to be treated with respect and to be afforded equal opportunities, not handouts during elections or empty promises. They desire genuine opportunities that grant them access to work, enabling them to earn a decent living and support their families and communities. Their ambitions are clear—they wish to be measured by their contributions to national development, rather than be placated with transient favours or crumbs that can be withdrawn at the whim of patrons whenever they fall out of favor.
The irony of the plight of Ghanaians from the Northern regions is stark: even though the political levers of the nation are predominantly controlled by their own kinsmen and women—politicians such as the current president, John Dramani Mahama, Alban Sumana Kingsford Bagbin, Mahama Ayariga, Haruna Iddrisu, Dr. Mahamudu Bawumia, Dominic Aduna Bingab Nitiwul, and Samuel Abu Jinapor—these leaders, in various ways and to varying degrees, have repeatedly promised Northern voters a paradise, only to underdeliver. This persistent pattern has deepened disappointment and entrenched acute poverty within their communities.
In contemporary Ghanaian politics, the very region that once produced individuals heralded as the backbone of nation-building—stalwarts of the military and police such as Major General Mohammed Barwah, Colonel David C. Zanlerigu, and Salifu Dagarti, as well as individuals central to the civil and public service and teacher training, who embodied service in its purest form—has been systematically relegated. Today, these men and women are reduced to political hirelings, conscripted to perform the dirtiest tasks and carry out the self-serving biddings of politicians, only to be discarded after elections so those same leaders can maintain their sanitized democratic facades. The men and women of peace have been cynically exploited and marginalized, their legacy tarnished by the very system they helped build.
The exodus of migrant labourers from the Northern regions to the South—particularly Accra—in pursuit of opportunity carries grave consequences. This ongoing outflow systematically deprives the North of essential human capital, undermining the region’s capacity to develop strong communities and to sustain critical sectors such as agriculture and education. The resulting void impedes progress and entrenches regional disparities.
Moreover, when migrants are unable to achieve their aspirations through established cultural and economic pathways, many are left vulnerable to exploitation. Some become instruments for politicians seeking to advance their own interests, particularly during electoral cycles, while others are pushed toward criminal activities as a means of survival. The fallout from this phenomenon is acutely felt by the children of migrant workers, who, lacking adequate support, face heightened risks of truancy and delinquency—escalating security concerns for the nation as a whole.
The prevailing practice of consigning Northern migrants to menial roles—under the guise of empowerment, with promises of hostels, tricycles for waste collection, or head-pans for women—does not constitute a path to financial independence or self-determination. Instead, it reinforces damaging stereotypes and perpetuates a cycle of marginalization. Such token gestures do little to alter the structural imbalances that sustain this inequity.
Reversing this trajectory requires a fundamental shift in the mindset of Northern political leaders. Too often, those who ascend to power become assimilated into the Southern elite, seduced by material comforts and severing their connection to their own communities. Sustainable change demands that parliamentarians from the North re-engage with their constituents, champion the interests of their regions, and hold the government accountable for delivering the development, employment, and investment that is rightfully owed to the Northern regions. Redirecting resources away from over-invested centers such as Greater Accra and Ashanti, and toward long-neglected Northern communities, is not just a matter of equity—it is an urgent national imperative.
This publication asserts, without equivocation, that the enduring poverty afflicting migrant workers from the Northern regions to the South—and within their own communities—is neither natural nor unavoidable. Rather, it is the result of calculated political engineering by elected officials and the consequences of ill-conceived governmental decisions. These individuals, adept at political subterfuge, have persistently leveraged the generosity of Northern communities to advance their own personal interests. The evidence suggests that such exploitation is not incidental, but a systemic feature of governance that perpetuates socioeconomic marginalization among migrant populations. We must make it clear to our Northern politicians: enough is enough. Exploiting the trust and votes of the Northern electorate merely as a means to personal power and financial gain is not only unethical but also a profound betrayal of public responsibility.
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.
In this publication, I discuss the stereotypes and negative impressions of Black South Africans by their fellow Black Africans, particularly Ghanaian returnees and social commentators who characterize them as xenophobic. These labels are not only unnecessary and inaccurate; they underscore a persistent misinterpretation of Black South African history and culture by other Africans and, by extension, non-Africans.
Using class analysis as an analytical tool, I argue that the calls for the expulsion of non-Black South Africans from South Africa, both before and after June 30, 2026, were primarily driven by the inequitable distribution of resources and perceived incidences of crime, and the resulting frustration and desire to address these problems—however unconventional the methods. Leaders of the “Dudula” or the “March and March,” their supporters, financiers, and hidden special interests sought to exploit a volatile situation to pressure the African National Congress government.
Labelling Black South Africans as “uneducated and lazy,” as I have heard some Ghanaians state on social media, without an in-depth understanding of Black South Africa’s history before, during, and after apartheid, plays directly into colonial tropes. It perpetuates a false narrative about Black South Africans among other Africans and non-Africans alike; a divide-and-rule approach Kwame Nkrumah warned against. This intricate web, woven by the architects of the (neo)colonial project, is now activated by special interest groups and covert actors who seek to pit Africans against one another while the oppressor broadcasts images of Black barbarity and savagery across the international media.
I write as an independent public scholar, aware that this essay may provoke strong reactions, particularly among some Ghanaian politicians and social commentators who have made a career out of misdiagnosing the causes of violence and calls for the expulsion of “foreigners” from South Africa. Rather than seeking to understand the root causes, many opt for the most convenient route: assigning blame without first mastering the complexity behind the calls to rid South Africa of “foreigners.” Equally troubling are some Ghanaian journalists who arrive at television stations with suitcases of documents, posing as experts on Black South African history, yet demonstrating little knowledge of the country’s history, peoples, or cultures.
I write this paper in hopes of generating a Socratic conversation on the issue, not out of contempt for the Ghanaian Foreign Minister, Samuel Okudzeto Ablakwa, whose initial handling of the matter—adopting megaphone diplomacy—has diminished Ghana’s stature as the Mecca of African foreign policy. Figures like Kwame Nkrumah, Kofi Annan, and Phillip Gbeho championed African-centred diplomacy to prevent external interference and manage volatile issues between African nations without sparking unnecessary tensions.
Mr. Samuel Okudzeto Ablakwa’s reaction was, perhaps, to be expected; it demonstrates how far Ghana has shifted from seasoned diplomacy to reactionary, superficial responses—turning what could have been a quietly resolved issue into a public inferno and burning bridges with the South African government, with whom Ghana has enjoyed excellent relations due to shared histories of anticolonial struggle. Today, the Ghanaian Foreign Service and diplomatic corps are but a shadow of their former selves, staffed by party loyalists and appointees with little to no diplomatic training or credentials.
While the actions of the supporters of “Dudula” and “March and March” must be condemned in the strongest terms—rightly so, for usurping state authority in law enforcement and committing violence against “foreigners”—it is also important to note that Black South Africans are not historically xenophobic or Afrophobic. On the contrary, they have often welcomed their fellow Black Africans. This welcoming spirit is captured in the song “Stimela” by the late Hugh Masekela. The wealth of South Africa—especially White capital and the mining sector—would not have been possible without migrant labour from Mozambique, Malawi, Lesotho, and Swaziland, whose workers endured harsh conditions in the mines and single-men’s quarters, helping to build South Africa into the continent’s most developed nation-state.
From a class analysis perspective, the recurring flare-ups and calls against “foreigners” are rooted in South Africa’s economic downturn, reflected in declining job opportunities for Black South Africans and crimes alleged to be committed by non-South Africans—chiefly drug and sex trafficking, and the proliferation of spaza shops (convenience stores) selling expired goods and lacking proper documentation. As the South African economy stagnates and the government fails to improve conditions, non-Black South Africans become easy targets—the proverbial low-hanging fruit. For many South Africans, witnessing other Africans succeed amid widespread hardship, and believing (rightly or wrongly) that such success is due to illicit activities, became intolerable. Ghana herself is not immune to such actions, as seen in the expulsion of Nigerian nationals in the late 1960s under the “Aliens Compliance Act” and in more recent times.
Mr. Samuel Okudzeto Ablakwa’s remarks that returnees would be welcomed as heroes, not orphans, were poorly chosen. His comments about Ghana’s contributions to South Africa’s liberation movements, though factually accurate, were simplistic. Meeting returnees at Kotoka International Airport with government officials and hugging children for publicity seemed more about boosting his social media profile and courting votes than addressing the issue seriously. His open exchanges with his South African counterpart—debating the number of Ghanaians killed, causes of death, and how many Ghanaians were living illegally in South Africa—were reckless.
For advocates of African unity, such behaviour undermines the sibling spirit and amity that have long defined Ghana’s reputation for peaceful conflict resolution and Pan-Africanism, principles that remain central to its foreign policy. This raises a pressing question: What will become of the thousands of undocumented Ghanaians currently stranded in South Africa, and what plans does the Ghanaian government have for their evacuation? Apparently, there is no concrete plan, likely due to financial, logistical, and practical complexities—a problem that might have been more effectively addressed through quiet diplomacy. While I do not suggest the South African government is blameless in the violence against foreigners, as shown by its inadequate response and irresponsibility from some officials, Ghana could have taken the higher diplomatic ground to mitigate the fallout.
The Ghanaian government should exercise caution when faced with calls—both domestic and international—to take the South African government before the African Union or the International Criminal Court. Ghana must resist the temptation to drag a sister African nation to a court designed to humiliate African leaders and countries disliked by former colonial powers and those seeking to balkanize Africa. Such a move would deal a severe blow to African unity, a project that, despite its flaws, continues to foster a sense of solidarity and a unified African voice. As Nkrumah warned, powerful forces—particularly from the West and certain interest groups—seek to divide Africa, seducing its leaders with promises of aid and development while deploying neocolonial strategies to fragment the continent.
Furthermore, the Ghanaian government’s cancellation or deferment of President Cyril Ramaphosa’s request to address tensions between Ghana and South Africa was unnecessary. The deep, symbiotic relationship between these two nations is rooted in their shared struggle for liberation. Ghana’s contributions extended beyond financial support and educational opportunities for students from frontline states; it also provided diplomatic cover for the African National Congress under Nelson Mandela and the Pan-Africanist Congress under Robert Mangaliso Sobukwe, and facilitated the safe movement of South Africans such as Joe Modise, Tokyo Sexwale, and others during their darkest times.
There is far more that unites Ghana and South Africa than divides them. Nkrumah’s Ghana, respected in both the Pan-African fraternity and the broader international community, must take the initiative to reach out to South Africa. Assisting South Africa in calming tensions and preventing further violence against fellow Africans is the way forward. Despite South Africa’s status as an economic powerhouse and a source of pride for the continent, the nation remains fragile.
In post-apartheid South Africa and postcolonial Africa more broadly, both foreign and domestic opportunists await the chance to exploit a weakened, divided continent. The courage to resolve conflicts, no matter how difficult, lies within the character of Ghanaians and their government. Ghana should reach out to South Africa to address this tension directly. Both governments are fully capable of resolving the issue and must not be distracted by geopolitical actors whose intentions, like the Greeks bearing gifts, are to divide and exploit Africa’s resources and people. Ghana and South Africa must demonstrate to the world that Africa is capable of solving its own problems. While the actions of “March and March” supporters were uncivilized and deserve condemnation, the Ghanaian government—especially the Foreign Ministry—overreacted.