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.

Contemporary Western influence over Ghana persists through insidious mechanisms: educational programs, financial loans, public accolades, and the perpetuation of unattainable promises (Nkrumah, 1965; Ake, 1981). These strategies frequently serve to infantilize the Ghanaian leadership, shifting expectations and undermining genuine autonomy. In the twenty-first century, Ghana’s sovereignty is too often reduced to a modern vassalage—a servile status that belies the rhetoric of independence and perpetuates a subordinate relationship with former colonial and imperial powers (Young, 1994).

Drawing upon the enduring insights of Kwame Nkrumah, this analysis frames a critical discussion on the current state of Ghanaian sovereignty. Nkrumah stands among the most influential postcolonial African political leaders of the past millennium—his legacy, though not unblemished, is distinguished by a relentless commitment to dismantling colonial structures and pursuing continental unity. Acknowledging his profound grasp of colonial history and philosophy, and his keen awareness of the geopolitical forces shaping Africa during the era of so-called independence, is essential (Nkrumah, 1965).

In one of the most searing chapters of both his leadership and Ghana’s turbulent history, Nkrumah emerged as a figure both cathartic and prophetic. He warned that a rejection of the revolutionary pathway would doom Ghana to a terminal relapse into colonial slaughter, engineered by leaders afflicted with colonial affectation—most notably, a cadre of Sandhurst-trained military officers and their colonial collaborators (Nkrumah, 1965). In exasperation, Nkrumah decried the nation’s tragic return to the colonial orbit, denouncing the abandonment of a blueprint for authentic political, economic, social, and cultural liberation. His warnings resonate with unnerving clarity today: Ghana has been reduced to a nation that habitually measures its development by the relentless acquisition of external loans, shackled by austerity and motivated by the pursuit of fleeting electoral gains (Boafo-Arthur, 2007). The genuine investment in sovereignty—the imperative to think as Africans and act autonomously, beyond the intellectual and economic plantations of neo-colonialism—remains a marginalized and alien concept (Nkrumah, 1965).

Sixty-nine years after Ghana’s hard-won independence, the nation—endowed with enviable natural resources and lauded as a continental exemplar of human capital—has systematically mortgaged its future to international capital and foreign business interests (Whitfield, 2018). This abdication of responsibility by those entrusted with national stewardship has jeopardized the prospects of generations yet unborn. Rather than mobilize domestic resources to drive genuine development, Ghana’s political class has consistently chosen the expedient path: a reckless borrowing spree, leveraging the nation’s natural wealth as collateral while diverting capital from critical social and academic investments, particularly in research and development (Gyimah-Boadi & Prempeh, 2012). The terms of loan agreements with the World Bank and International Monetary Fund—agreements whose consequences reverberate throughout the lives of ordinary citizens—remain cloaked in secrecy (Whitfield, 2018). What government-sponsored and party-affiliated newspapers parade as negotiations between International Financial Institution officials and Ghana’s Finance Ministry is little more than ritualistic pageantry: lectures and ultimatums that enforce compliance with externally dictated terms, stripping the nation of authentic agency and autonomy (Ake, 1981).

By subsisting on the intravenous drip of international loans and accepting demeaning tokens—such as a handful of handcuffs for the nation’s police, a transparent lever wielded by the colonial center—Ghana has, in effect, forfeited the last vestiges of her sovereignty (Nkrumah, 1965). The nation exists in name alone. Despite official proclamations about national self-reliance and security, the evidence is damning: the prerogative of securing the nation, once an inviolable attribute of statehood, has been pawned to former colonial powers for mere scraps. Euphemistic terms like “security cooperation,” “assistance,” and “training” only serve to cement a master-servant hierarchy, perpetuating colonial dominance under the guise of partnership (Boafo-Arthur, 2007). This arrangement enables the colonial center to embed itself ever deeper within the nation’s core, exerting decisive influence over both domestic and foreign policy—including the selection of Ghana’s allies—thereby stripping Ghana of genuine neutrality and betraying commitments to non-alignment (Young, 1994).

According to Nkrumah and fellow champions of the African cause such as Fanon and Memmi, Ghana’s path to genuine strength and sovereignty demanded the radical Africanization of its education system (Nkrumah, 1965; Fanon, 1963; Memmi, 1965). This transformation entailed integrating indigenous philosophies and developing curricula attuned to the country’s unique realities—rejecting the wholesale importation of colonial models. For true self and collective advancement, Africans must first be rooted in their local languages and cultures, mastering their own epistemologies before subordinating themselves to colonial languages and frameworks (Fanon, 1963). Nkrumah argued that the Africanization of education and institutions was a deliberate earthwork against the deeply embedded myth of Black inferiority—a central pillar of colonial schooling designed to perpetually relegate Africans to the status of “hewers of wood and drawers of water” (Nkrumah, 1965; Memmi, 1965).

Today, the Ghanaian child and student—and, by extension, the nation’s so-called political leaders (or, more accurately, rulers)—are reduced to colonial ventriloquists and robotic linguists. Mastery of the English language, however fractured or awkwardly performed, has become the ultimate marker of status, while the capacity to articulate thoughts in indigenous languages has atrophied, often interspersed with English in a display of linguistic subjugation. This phenomenon is neither benign nor accidental—it is the living legacy of coloniality, systematically denying African youth and rulers their intellectual sovereignty: the essential capacity to root thought and expression in African realities and lived experience. More ominously, the persistent equation of English fluency with intelligence and social standing perpetuates a corrosive culture of elevating colonial values over African ones—a process Fanon (1967) incisively describes as the “Black Skin, White Masks” syndrome.

While the public school system suffers from a chronic shortage of trained local language teachers—a deficit that urgently demands targeted intervention—the government has, in recent months, chosen instead to introduce Mandarin, Cantonese, and Arabic into the curriculum (Daily Graphic, 2022; Gyasi, 2020). The rationale behind such a policy shift is, at best, opaque. At worst, it signals the ascendancy of foreign dictates and the insidious reach of soft power, positioning external interests above the urgent need to cultivate Ghana’s own linguistic heritage and national priorities (Gyasi, 2020; Memmi, 1965). This misguided prioritization threatens to further erode cultural sovereignty and intellectual independence, deepening the nation’s vulnerability to external cultural and political influence.

In the landscape of modern Ghana’s public education system, the African Writers Series—a foundational collection of postcolonial African scholarship that once anchored African intellectualism and foregrounded indigenous history and experience through the works of Chinua Achebe, Ama Ata Aidoo, Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o, and Ayi Kwei Armah—has been systematically neglected by contemporary educators (Awoonor, 2012; Achebe, 1958; Ngũgĩ, 1965). In its place, the curriculum is overwhelmingly dominated by canonical works of colonial literature such as Canterbury Tales, Wuthering Heights, and Macbeth—a glaring testament to the enduring colonial project of elevating European histories and epistemologies above Ghana’s own (Awoonor, 2012; Memmi, 1965; Achebe, 1958). This calculated erasure not only suppresses African literary heritage but perpetuates the intellectual subjugation of future generations.

In the realm of resource extraction, post-Nkrumah Ghana has persistently ceded leverage in negotiating mining agreements with Western corporate interests, relegating itself to a subordinate role (Memmi, 1965; Gyimah-Boadi & Prempeh, 2012). Fueled by the political class’s obsession with infrastructure—roads and buildings heralded as emblems of progress—these agreements are routinely inked with little critical evaluation of their long-term consequences for national finances, the well-being of citizens, or the environment (Daily Graphic, 2021). The mining sector remains firmly gripped by Western multinationals, even as Chinese corporations and investors aggressively encroach, often through illegal operations. Notably, Chinese actors have been implicated in environmental devastation, including rampant deforestation and contamination of vital water bodies (Gyimah-Boadi & Prempeh, 2012; Daily Graphic, 2021). Yet, those apprehended for flagrant violations of Ghana’s environmental laws rarely face prosecution. Instead, diplomatic interventions and clandestine negotiations with complicit state officials—whose hands are tied by previous or anticipated Chinese loans—ensure that offenders are quietly deported, escaping meaningful accountability (Memmi, 1965; Daily Graphic, 2021). Such practices expose the nation’s continued vulnerability to external exploitation and the corrosive effects of debt diplomacy.

On the domestic market front, Ghana’s sovereignty was brazenly surrendered to foreign corporate interests in the wake of the political upheavals of June 4, 1979 and December 31, 1981 (Amoako-Tuffour, 1998; Daily Graphic, 2019, p. 3). Once celebrated as the industrial powerhouse of West Africa—a cradle of entrepreneurial dynamism and innovation—the nation witnessed, in a matter of days, the abrupt confiscation of thriving businesses such as Pioneer Tobacco Company, Tata Brewery, and Kowus Motors. These enterprises were expropriated by the state under vague and politically charged accusations of corruption, their owners summarily banished from the country (Amoako-Tuffour, 1998, p. 45).

Under the banner of neoliberalism and at the behest of a divestiture programme dictated by the World Bank and International Monetary Fund, the Provisional National Defence Council (PNDC) regime led by Flight Lieutenant Jerry John Rawlings proceeded to auction off state-owned enterprises for a pittance (Boafo-Arthur, 1999, p. 613). This externally enforced policy package shattered Ghana’s industrial backbone, giving rise to the proliferation of container shops and open-air markets across the nation while fueling a dramatic rise in unemployment and economic insecurity (Daily Graphic, 2019, p. 6). Such policies, driven by external creditors and internal mismanagement, mark a tragic retreat from the nation’s once-promising industrial sovereignty.

Any invocation of Ghana as a sovereign nation-state is a hollow performance—an exercise in rhetorical theatrics that belies the nation’s actual condition (Awoonor, 2012, p. 40; Daily Graphic, 2022, p. 2). Sovereignty, in any meaningful sense, is incompatible with a state that fails to cultivate intellectuals capable of exposing and resisting Western machinations before they metastasize within its borders (Achebe, 1958, p. 145; Awoonor, 2012, p. 41). A nation that habitually cedes its resources and perpetually borrows to survive is not sovereign, but rather ensnared in a cycle of dependency and self-inflicted subjugation (Gyimah-Boadi & Prempeh, 2012, p. 101).

The omnipresence of learned helplessness and institutionalized self-pity—manifest in the nation’s political, social, and economic spheres—signals a culture of beggary rather than genuine autonomy (Memmi, 1965, p. 89). The integration of foreign languages and values into the public education system is yet another symptom of this malaise, a relinquishment of cultural and intellectual independence (Daily Graphic, 2022, p. 3; Ngũgĩ, 1986, p. 112). Most damningly, a state that mortgages its mineral wealth to foreign corporations for trifling returns, while dismantling its industrial foundation under the guise of dubious ideological experiments, authors its own misery and stands as its own greatest adversary (Boafo-Arthur, 1999, p. 65; Daily Graphic, 2019, p. 6).

Nkrumah’s ability to foresee Ghana’s trajectory was nothing short of prophetic; his words remain ever relevant as Ghana continues to wander aimlessly—and even gleefully—through a wilderness of leaderlessness. In his speech at the Founding of the Organization of African Unity in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, on May 24, 1963, he declared: “The forces that are massed against us are formidable. We must recognize that the ultimate objective of the imperialist powers is to prevent the unification of the African continent… We cannot afford to let time pass or to wait for the most propitious conditions for unity. There is no time to lose. We must unite now or perish” (Nkrumah, 1963a, p. 254; Nkrumah, 1963b).

Indeed, the light that Nkrumah ignited for Ghana and Africa—a beacon he insisted “death can never extinguish . . . long after [he is] gone, [and] will continue to burn and be borne aloft, giving light and guidance to all people” (Nkrumah, 1957, p. 24)—is now perilously flickering. Its radiance, once a source of continental pride and inspiration, now dims under the weight of ineptitude and a crisis of visionary leadership. To restore that glow demands leaders equipped with intellectual rigour, historical consciousness, and unwavering commitment to pan-African ideals. At present, I hold profound reservations about the capacity of the current generation of leaders—and those poised to succeed them—to rekindle Nkrumah’s enduring flame.

References

Achebe, C. (1958). Things fall apart. Heinemann.

Aidoo, A. A. (2002). No sweetness here and other stories. Heinemann.

Ake, C. (1981). A Political Economy of Africa. Longman.

Amoako-Tuffour, J. (1998). Ghana’s divestiture experience: The case of state-owned enterprises. African Development Review, 10(1), 41–63. https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1467-8268.1998.tb00112.x

Armah, A. K. (1968). The beautyful ones are not yet born. Heinemann.

Awoonor, K. (2012). The African Writers Series and the birth of modern African literature. Transition, 109, 36–48. https://doi.org/10.2979/transition.109.1.36

Boafo-Arthur, K. (2007). Ghana: One Decade of the Liberal State. Zed Books.

Boafo-Arthur, K. (1999). Ghana: Structural adjustment, democratization, and the politics of continuity. African Studies Review, 42(2), 41–72. https://doi.org/10.2307/525368

Daily Graphic. (2022, March 10). Government to introduce Mandarin, Arabic in basic schools. https://www.graphic.com.gh/news/general-news/government-to-introduce-mandarin-arabic-in-basic-schools.html

Daily Graphic. (2021, July 15). Galamsey threat: Chinese illegal miners deported again. https://www.graphic.com.gh/news/general-news/galamsey-threat-chinese-illegal-miners-deported-again.html

Daily Graphic. (2019, June 4). Ghana’s industrial collapse: The legacy of divestiture. pp. 3, 6.

Gyasi, K. (2020). Language policy and education in Ghana: The reality and the rhetoric. International Journal of Bilingual Education and Bilingualism, 23(10), 1201–1216. https://doi.org/10.1080/13670050.2018.1461805

Gyimah-Boadi, E., & Prempeh, H. K. (2012). Oil, Politics, and Ghana’s Democracy. Journal of Democracy, 23(3), 94-108.
Fanon, F. (1963). The wretched of the earth (C. Farrington, Trans.). Grove Press. (Original work published 1961)

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Memmi, A. (1965). The colonizer and the colonized (H. Greenfeld, Trans.). Orion Press. (Original work published 1957)

Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o. (1965). The river between. Heinemann.

Nkrumah, K. (1965). Neo-Colonialism: The Last Stage of Imperialism. Thomas Nelson & Sons.

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Nkrumah, K. (1963b, May 24). Speech at the founding of the Organization of African Unity. Addis Ababa, Ethiopia. Retrieved from https://www.blackpast.org/global-african-history/1963-kwame-nkrumah-speech-foundation-oau/

Nkrumah, K. (1957, March 6). Independence Day speech delivered at the Old Polo Grounds, Accra, Ghana. Retrieved from https://www.ghanaweb.com/GhanaHomePage/NewsArchive/Full-text-Dr-Kwame-Nkrumah-s-Independence-speech-140652

Whitfield, L. (2018). Economies after Colonialism: Ghana and the Struggle for Power. Cambridge University Press.
Young, C. (1994). The African Colonial State in Comparative Perspective. Yale University Press.

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.

This publication examines the deception employed by Ghana’s two major political parties, the National Democratic Congress and the New Patriotic Party, towards the public. The term “change,” often used in party manifestos and public speeches, suggests that an opposition party will implement significant improvements once elected to office. However, this is misleading and akin to propaganda. The reality is that both parties are similar in their pursuit of wealth and often appoint the ineptest officials and activists to positions that require specialized expertise.

When it comes to change, one observation I’ve made about the nation’s governments is their initial focus on who gets to live in the colonial houses located in affluent neighbourhoods, such as Cantonments. The benefits associated with these positions—salaries, perks like free accommodation, free water and electricity, per diem for foreign travels, sitting fees, entertainment allowances, and clothing allowances—are extensive and often not fully disclosed to the public.  At party conferences and rallies, citizens are presented with a barrage of promises and party anthems, all interspersed with claims of a better future. However, these commitments seem to be forgotten almost immediately, as leaders often cite external shocks and austerity measures imposed by international financial institutions like the International Monetary Fund and the World Bank as excuses for inaction.

Blaming external factors for underdevelopment, as well as the government’s failure to fulfill campaign promises, has not stopped the government from its relentless pursuit of importing luxury vehicles for distribution among officials and party members. Politicians who once relied on taxis or hitchhiked have suddenly evolved into connoisseurs of high-end automobiles and fashionable clothing. Those who previously ate food from street vendors now frequent upscale restaurants in Osu and the Airport Residential Area. Individuals who used to consume soup from deep bowls at home have suddenly acquired the ability to read menus at plush dining establishments overnight. Some politicians and officials travel domestically and internationally solely to make political statements or enhance their resumes, all at the expense of the struggling nation.

Politics under the Fourth Republic represents a significant departure from the core values established by the nation’s founders, who prioritized unwavering service to the country. Today, the political landscape resembles a criminal enterprise, driven by individuals who pretend to serve the public but instead exploit their positions for personal gain. These so-called leaders often exhibit a warped sense of duty, focusing on enriching themselves and their families. A recent example of this is the arrest of Ohene K. Frimpong, the Member of Parliament for Asante-Akyem North, in the Netherlands at the request of the American government on charges of online fraud and money laundering. The Ghanaian government’s prompt response to provide him with consular and legal assistance highlights the troubling state of the nation—a country in decline, plagued by deep-rooted corruption.

To highlight some of the dysfunctions within the nation’s administration, we should examine the Foreign Service. Once regarded as the pinnacle of postcolonial African foreign policy under Kwame Nkrumah, the Ghanaian Foreign Service has become a mere shadow of its former self. Many of the nation’s foreign missions are led and mismanaged by political activists, many of whom lack expertise in international relations and diplomacy. Some representatives sound pitiful and speak as if reciting verses from party manifestos. They treat citizens abroad, especially those in distress, with disdain. Among them are individuals obsessed with fashion and appearance, resembling “Barbie dolls” in high heels. They prioritize looking impressive over advancing meaningful policies and causes for the nation they represent.

The male political appointees do not perform any better than their female counterparts regarding the service-pay ratio. Many of these male ambassadors, while publicly showing dedication and hard work for the government and their nation abroad, are also involved in business ventures on the side. Similar to their counterparts at home, they often spend more time seeking business opportunities for themselves, their benefactors, and their spouses. While it’s easy for the author, an outsider, to recognize the problem for what it is—putting square pegs in round holes—and to understand its implications for the nation’s treasury and economic standing, for party supporters, it’s a different story. For loyal followers and hired hands, the exploitation of the nation’s resources and the appointment of incompetent officials to lead government offices, both domestically and abroad, is merely business as usual; in local terms, it’s often referred to as “jobs for the boys.”

One of the misconceptions about Ghanaian democracy is that we actually elect our representatives; in reality, we choose from candidates selected by political parties. This illusion of choosing our political leaders, when we do not truly have that power, contributes to the delay of people-centred policies. Elected politicians often feel more accountable to the party leadership and the government in power than to the electorate. After being let down by those who made grand promises, the disappointed citizens wait for another four years—if they are fortunate enough to endure the hardships—to once again elect those whom they have sacrificed so much for, often receiving little in return. The Ghanaian democracy, regardless of how well-structured it appears, is an illusion constructed on deception, exploitation, kleptocracy, and incompetence. Change and development entail more than just voting or entertaining the public with hopes, revelry, and loud party songs.

Resetting Ghana would require a moment reminiscent of Nkrumah—a visionary leader with the innate talent, knowledge, skills, and determination to tackle the nation’s challenges without blaming external factors. This leader should prioritize the nation’s interests over temporary material gains. Unfortunately, the current crop of leaders and the prevailing style of leadership are too simplistic and mediocre for my taste. Their policy initiatives often rely on trial and error, with the hope that repeated attempts to solve problems without established strategies will yield different results. This approach can be seen as bordering on insanity or a form of perpetual fatalism.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

References

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.