Do Ghanaians have reason to probe Akufo-Addo and his government?

Ghana is often celebrated as one of Africa’s most stable democracies, a country that values peace, freedom, and justice.

But beneath that image lies a long-standing problem that we have refused to confront: from time immemorial, Ghana has not been holding people accountable.

No matter who is in power, the story is the same: scandals are exposed, committees are formed, reports are written, and then silence follows.

Life goes on as if nothing happened.

This culture of forgetfulness has weakened the foundations of our democracy.

So, the question must be asked again: Do Ghanaians have a reason to probe former President Nana Addo Dankwa Akufo-Addo and his government?

The answer is yes — and not just because of one administration’s actions, but because accountability has never truly taken root in our nation.

Accountability Beyond Politics

This is not about political revenge or personal attacks.

It’s about protecting the integrity of Ghana’s democracy.

Every genuine leader should welcome scrutiny because truth strengthens leadership, while secrecy destroys it.

During his tenure, the former president promised to fight corruption “without fear or favor.”

However, several major scandals — from the Agyapa Royalties deal and PDS electricity concession controversy to issues surrounding COVID-19 expenditures, galamsey corruption networks, and the auditor-general’s findings of financial irregularities — remain unresolved in the public’s mind.

A national probe would not only clear doubts but also restore public trust. If nothing wrong occurred, the truth will vindicate him.

If wrongs are found, justice must be done.

Either way, Ghana wins.

The Cost of Silence and the Danger of Normalisation

One of Ghana’s gravest national weaknesses is the normalization of wrongdoing. When corruption is tolerated, it ceases to be a scandal and becomes a system.

Successive governments have used commissions of inquiry as political theatre, without meaningful consequences.

Citizens grow cynical, believing that justice is for the weak and connections for the powerful.

But silence is not neutrality; it is complicity.

When billions of cedis are misused, it is not abstract; it is the cost of schools without desks, hospitals without beds, and roads that turn into death traps.

Every cedi lost to corruption is a child’s future stolen.

The Public Perception of Political Impunity

What makes the situation even more painful is the growing public perception that the political class is untouchable.

Many Ghanaians watch with disbelief as Akufo-Addo and members of his

former administration move confidently across the streets of Accra — attending events, granting interviews, and living lavishly — as if nothing is wrong.

Meanwhile, the Mahama-led government seems to be watching quietly, without any serious concern or visible action.

This silence is fueling anger and suspicion among citizens, who increasingly believe that politicians from both major parties have struck an unspoken “protection agreement.”

The public sentiment is clear: “We will chop the money, and when you come, you will also chop, and we will protect each other.”

This cynical belief is gaining traction because no one is being held accountable.

It paints a disturbing picture of governance — one where elections merely rotate opportunities for looting, not for service.

If this perception remains unchallenged, it will destroy public trust completely.

Ghanaians are beginning to ask, “What’s the difference between changing governments if corruption continues unchanged?”

The Legal and Moral Basis for a Probe

The 1992 Constitution provides the moral and legal foundation for accountability.

Article 35(8) obliges the state to “take steps to eradicate corrupt practices.”

Thus, any credible evidence or suspicion of corruption, financial loss, or abuse of power mandates investigation — not as a political favor, but as a constitutional duty.

However, for accountability to be meaningful, institutions must function in the national interest, not in service of the powerful.

When bodies such as the Office of the Special Prosecutor (OSP), the Commission on Human Rights and Administrative Justice (CHRAJ), or the Auditor-General’s Department fail to act decisively, they betray the very purpose for which they were established.

If these institutions cannot fulfill their mandate, they should be dissolved and shut down — because they are wasting taxpayers’ money.

The millions of cedis used to maintain idle and ineffective institutions could be better spent building hospitals, schools, or roads, where the impact would be tangible and life-changing.

Ghana cannot afford decorative institutions that exist only to issue statements while corruption thrives unchecked.

National Healing Through Truth

A national probe into Akufo-Addo’s administration could serve a broader purpose: restoring trust in governance.

It is not just about punishment but about learning. How did procurement systems fail?

Why were oversight institutions unable to act swiftly?

What loopholes in public finance allowed such mismanagement to persist?

If conducted with integrity, a national audit could function much like a Truth and Reconciliation Commission for governance — cleansing the nation of hidden wrongs and charting a course toward honest politics.

Beyond Akufo-Addo: A Call for Systemic Reform

Probing the previous government must not become a ritual of political revenge.

It should be the beginning of a permanent culture of accountability.

Ghana must institutionalise post-government audits for every administration — a Leadership Exit Accountability Review (LEAR) — ensuring that leaders leave office knowing they will be assessed on merit, not allegiance.

Until this becomes a norm, corruption will recycle itself from one administration to another, only with new faces and slogans.

Conclusion

Yes — Ghanaians have every reason to probe Akufo-Addo and his government. But the deeper reason goes beyond one man or one party. It is about restoring the moral backbone of the Republic and reviving the spirit of accountability that once defined Ghana’s democracy.

And it is about confronting the painful truth that many of our institutions are failing us.

If they cannot protect the public interest, they must not continue to consume scarce public resources.

The funds wasted on non-performing agencies could transform our hospitals, equip our schools, or revive our industries.

For as long as former officials move freely with impunity and current leaders look away, citizens will conclude that politics in Ghana has become a partnership in plunder.

That perception must be broken through bold action, not speeches.

When accountability becomes selective, justice becomes partisan. But when accountability becomes a culture, governance becomes sacred. That is the Ghana we must rebuild — one probe, one truth, one act of courage at a time.