Every year, like clockwork, a deeply moving national ritual takes place in Ghana. No, I am not talking about the budgeting for a new national cathedral, nor am I referring to the periodic resurrection of stable electricity. I am talking about the annual call to the Bar, a solemn occasion when hundreds of enthusiastic citizens finally earn the right to wear itchy 18th-century horsehair on their heads in 32-degree tropical heat.

And right on cue, as soon as the first camera flashes hit Instagram and TikTok, the familiar chorus of national grief begins.

If social media commentary is to be believed, the legal profession is the single greatest threat to Ghana’s development since the invention of the mosquito. Suddenly, everyone becomes a certified demographic expert and an economic planner. From the comfort of their keyboards, critics launch into the annual tradition of predicting our imminent doom under the crushing weight of too many advocates.

Let us, for a moment, dissect this seasonal performance of economic anxiety with the gravity it truly deserves.

The Myth of the Overcrowded Courtro

The most common lamentation echoing through our digital streets is a simple one: “There are too many lawyers!”

It is a fascinating observation. We look around our country, see land guards terrorising homeowners, contract breaches treated as a standard business practice, public funds vanishing into thin air, and citizens spending decades trying to resolve basic inheritance disputes. Yet, the logical conclusion we arrive at is: “Ah, yes. The real problem here is that we have an oversupply of people who understand the law.”

If you truly believe we have too many lawyers, I challenge you to test that theory the next time life hands you a crisis. When your landlord decides to lock you out of your apartment because his cousin needs a place to stay, or when you find yourself in a messy divorce court, whom do you intend to bring along as your shield? Your quantity surveyor? Your favorite structural engineer? Perhaps you can bring your plumber to argue the finer points of contractual estoppel.

The reality is that we only complain about the number of lawyers until we desperately need one to rescue us from the consequences of our own spectacular lapses in judgment.

The Zero-Sum Beauty Contest

Then comes the classic pivot to the sciences: “The country needs more engineers and doctors, not people who read big books!”

This is undoubtedly true. We do need more doctors. We need more engineers to fix our roads and build our bridges. But nation-building is not a zero-sum beauty contest where one profession must starve so another can thrive. It is not an either-or proposition.

More importantly, let us look at how these professions interact in the wild. When that brilliant engineer builds a bridge that collapses due to a poorly negotiated, inflated state contract, or when a medical professional commits a tragic act of malpractice, who steps into the arena? The local pastor? A team of herbalists?

No. We call the lawyers. We call them to interpret the building codes, to enforce regulations, and to hold institutions accountable. A society with brilliant engineers but no functioning legal framework to enforce standards is simply a society waiting for its infrastructure to collapse with absolute impunity.

The “Arts Student” Delusion

There remains a lingering, highly amusing arrogance among some science enthusiasts who believe that studying law is merely a default setting for arts students who “couldn’t hack it” in chemistry or physics.

It is a comforting myth, usually whispered by people who think legal practice consists entirely of standing up in court and shouting “I object!” in a dramatic voice. They conveniently overlook the reality of the modern world. Interpreting constitutional crises, untangling complex financial regulations, navigating intellectual property theft, prosecuting medical negligence, and drafting frameworks for the law of artificial intelligence apparently require zero cognitive effort.

Some people consistently confuse choosing a different discipline with failing at their own. Rest assured, analysing a complex web of corporate fraud requires just as much brainpower as balancing a chemical equation—only the lawyer’s equation can land someone in Nsawam prison if they misplace a decimal point.

Wigs, Gowns, and Colonial Wardrobes

Now, to be completely fair, the critics do get one thing absolutely right. The wigs and gowns are, without question, an absurd colonial relic.

On this specific point, I agree paaah. There is something profoundly surreal about watching a Ghanaian lawyer, sitting in a courtroom with a failing air conditioner, sweating profusely under a heavy black gown and a white horsehair wig designed for the chilly autumn mornings of London. We can easily modernise the wardrobe without abolishing the profession. The British left us the legal system, but they also left us the keys to our own tailors. Surely, we can improve the uniform to reflect a sovereign nation that experiences actual sunshine.

The Real National Challenge

The true problem facing Ghana is not that we have too many lawyers. In a country of over 30 million people, where legal services remain an inaccessible luxury for the vast majority of the population outside Accra and Kumasi, we actually need more.

The real question we should be asking every October is not about quantity, but about utility and competence. Are we producing professionals—be they doctors, engineers, teachers, entrepreneurs, or lawyers—who are highly competent and driven by integrity? And more importantly, are we building a system that puts them to good use?

So, let the new lawyers take their pictures. Let them post their scrolls. Even if, by some miracle of mass enrollment, everybody in Ghana eventually becomes a lawyer, you can sleep soundly tonight. At the very least, it means somebody will finally be available to obey the law.

By Emmanuel Amponsah

The writer is a former Editor of The Spectator

Public awareness campaigns have successfully cast breast cancer into the global spotlight, typically framed through a uniform lens of pink ribbons, early detection drives and triumphant stories of survival. While these initiatives have driven vital mammography compliance and research funding, they often perpetuate a sanitised narrative. Beneath the polished public messaging lie complex, less-discussed clinical realities and emotional burdens that patients, families and healthcare providers must navigate long after the initial medical milestones have passed.

Moving towards an honest discourse

Acknowledging these untold truths does not diminish the incredible advancements achieved in modern oncology; rather, it humanises the patient experience. Expanding our cultural understanding beyond the simplistic “warrior” trope allows for deeper institutional support, better long-term medical management and genuine empathy for the lifelong journey of survivorship.

When people see breast cancer in movies or awareness campaigns, they usually see a neat story: someone gets diagnosed, goes through treatment, rings a celebration bell and goes right back to normal.

In real life, the journey is much more complicated. Let us break down five “hidden truths” about breast cancer using everyday examples.

Truth 1: The “Post-Treatment Cliff” (Life after treatment)

What it means: Everyone thinks that once medical treatments, such as surgery or chemotherapy, are over, the patient instantly returns to their old self. In reality, that is when a whole new set of challenges begins.

The example: Imagine finishing a gruelling uphill marathon. You cross the finish line, but your legs are still shaking, you are exhausted, and everyone else goes home while you are left trying to recover. Many survivors deal with long-term side effects, such as constant tiredness, numbness in their fingers or swelling, called lymphoedema, for years.

Truth 2: Catching it early is great, but not a magic shield

What it means: Early detection saves lives, but some types of cancer are so aggressive that even a small tumour can behave like a runaway train.

The example: Think of weeds in a garden. If you spot a weed early, you can usually pull it right out. But certain aggressive “weeds” spread seeds everywhere or grow roots so fast that even finding them early does not stop them from trying to pop up somewhere else later.

Truth 3: The long, hard marathon of daily pills

What it means: For many survivors whose cancer is hormone-receptor-positive, treatment does not stop when surgery ends. They may have to take hormone-blocking pills every day for five to ten years.

The example: These daily pills act like security guards keeping the enemy away, but they can also bring troublesome side effects, such as joint stiffness, sudden hot flashes or weakened bones. Because of this, taking the medication can feel like a daily chore that reminds patients of the cancer for a decade.

Truth 4: People we forget about (Men and young adults)

What it means: Public campaigns often focus on older women. Because of this, other groups affected by breast cancer may be caught off guard.

The example: Men can develop breast cancer, too, because they are born with a small amount of breast tissue. However, because some men think it is a “women’s disease”, they may ignore an unusual lump in their chest for months, resulting in a later diagnosis. Young adults under 40 face a different shock, having to worry about fertility, having children and career interruptions right in the middle of building their lives.

Truth 5: The hidden price tag (Financial stress)

What it means: A medical diagnosis brings a heavy second burden: financial strain.

The example: Even with good health insurance, additional costs can pile up quickly, including specialised scans, genetic testing, expensive prescription drugs and taking weeks or months off work to recover. It can feel like dealing with two crises at the same time: trying to heal the body while worrying about bills.

Talking about these harder truths does not mean we should not celebrate survivors. It simply means we need to understand the real, full picture of what people go through.

By Robert Ekow Grimmond-Thompson

SKIP THE QUEUE, TAP THE NEWS

You can now read the Ghanaian Times and The Spectator newspapers from the comfort of your device via TimesNewsPlus.

Join our WhatsApp Channel: https://whatsapp.com/channel/0029VbBElzjInlqHhl1aTU27