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Whose voice matters?
Let me state why I would not fight for an elected political office: it is because I very likely would be treated the way the likes of Kwame Nkrumah, Patrice Lumumba, Muamar Gadhafi and many other African leaders were treated.
I have a great deal of admiration for the Agogohene of Asante, Nana Akuoko Sarpong. He is a great statesman, lawyer, politician and traditional ruler. My first encounter with Nana was at a media encounter in one of the restaurants at Oxford Street at Osu. It was a forum at which public figures met with senior journalists to discuss background information on certain trending policies and events.
I cannot recollect the exact date because all my diaries were destroyed in the floods that hit my home in the night of June 19, 2009, here in Accra. But what I remember is that it was about the time Asanteman had lost Otumfuor Opoku Ware II and some names popped up as likely successor to the Golden Stool. After the death of the Asantehene there were rumours that the government of the time had a favoured candidate for the Stool. Also in attendance was Ambassador Victor Gbeho.
I cannot remember if I was the one who sought Nana Sarpong’s take on the issue, but the issue was raised and he responded in a manner that still resonates with me. Nana said no one, not even the government he served in, could dictate to Asanteman who should be Asantehene. He has won my heart ever since that statement. Only recently, Nana Agogohene made another statement to the effect that Ghana should consider moving the nation’s capital away from Accra. The media carried his call on front pages. Less than a few days later, three engineers picked up the tune in support of Nana’s call.
I take nothing away from Nana and his call, but I remember writing a comprehensive treatise on why the capital should move from Accra and had it published. The only person to call and congratulate me on that piece was the late elder statesman, Mr. K. B. Asante. My question, since after Nana’s call, is: do we have to be prominent people before our voices can be heard? Then I remember in the middle of 1986 after I had returned to Ghana, I wrote a letter to the then Ministry of Transport & Communications on the numbering of automobiles.
I suggested the numbering that is in place now, but with a system that would make identifying the Region, District or even local areas easily identifiable from the number plate. Till date, no letter came from that Ministry acknowledging receipt of my letter. Very likely, I am not considered prominent enough to have a voice. I still read many articles making very lofty and nationalistic analyses on which way the country can move forward, but because the authors are not names that evoke a certain presence, these beautiful ideas fade into oblivion.
Even when officialdom commissions fora for brainstorming on certain pertinent national issues, very little, if any, action is taken on their recommendations. How much more when a single person makes suggestions for national development? Visionaries hardly live to see their dreams come into fruition, but the first step is just as important as the realisation of their dreams. In our case, however, the visionary dies and takes his dreams along with him.
Listen to the people chatting away in commercial vehicles. Listen to the chatter in the marketplace. Listen to the conversation among students. These are our sources of inspiration. And listen to the ordinary people. These people speak wisdom and you are in awe of the depth of their wisdom. Officialdom is cocooned in their air-conditioned offices and cars; they shut the world of realities outside the door. The only issues that catch their attention are suggestions from ‘prominent’ citizens. But these people have become prominent because they achieved something for themselves or from positions thrust upon them. What about the ordinary man in the street on whose behalf we run the affairs of state?
Only recently, Sir Sam Jonah, at a forum organized by the Rotary Club, made a statement to the effect that authority is uncomfortable when truth is told them. This is very true, especially in an era where political activism is rife on social media and the hounds of the political class will descend on you like a pack of wolves for daring to speak truth to authority. Sir Jonah intoned that government policies determine whether or not investors would want to do business in Ghana.
He touched on a wide range of issues of national importance, but the question remains as to whether his voice goes far enough for us to listen. Listen to him: ”….what is baffling is that those who used to have voices on these things seem to have lost their voices. People speak on issues based on who is in power. Is our deafening silence suggesting that we are no longer concerned with issues that we complained about not too long ago, particularly when those issues persist…?”
Then he turned his attention on me and my colleagues: “Our media landscape is so polarised and partisan. There is hardly any objectivity, because a lot of the media stations are owned by politicians whose interest is in swaying voters one way or the other. Independent media practice seems to have faded into oblivion and journalism has become a conveyor belt for political propaganda, insults and acrimony.”
I can say, with near certainty, that Ghana’s capital will remain Accra for the next 100 years. Who would want their multimillion investments in plush real estate to go bust when the capital moves from Accra and their values tumble? Who would want their pet baby of a 5,000 capacity cathedral become only a tourist attraction if the capital moves from Accra? Instead of investing in industrial infrastructure to create jobs for our teeming youth, our priority is a cathedral for us to pray in for jobs. Now, to get the capital out of Accra? It will not happen, if I knew the mentality of our leaders and their captains of industry and influence.
I can bet my last pesewa that Nana Agogohene’s voice is not even powerful enough. The power is in the pockets of the moneybags whose economic and financial fortunes outweigh any national agenda for development. And they call the shots. Meanwhile, Accra has reached Kasoa and Gomoa Buduburam in the Central Region. Accra has caught up with the Akuapem Mountains and Miotso to the east. Truth be told, Accra has outlived its usefulness as a nation’s capital. Indeed, Accra is suffocating.
One reason the capital will move is when the realisation dawns on us that Accra has fallen below the level of the Atlantic Ocean. Even that will meet a resistance with the excuse that the Netherlands live under water. We cannot manage the annual deluge when the rains set in but we will quickly compare ourselves to the Netherlands. We are almost in the rainy season now and our preparedness will be put to the test once again.
The other reason might be only under a military government the way Abuja was created in Nigeria. I am by no means calling for a military regime for this country. Far from that, but it will take a revolution of the mind to get a movement of Ghana’s capital off the ground. As the saying goes, a journey of a thousand kilometres begins with a step. Nana Agogohene has spoken. Sir Sam Jonah has spoken just like many others, but whose voice matters?
By Dr. Akofa K. Segbefia
Walk into any supermarket in Accra, Kumasi, or Tamale today, and you will see the modern Ghanaian diet packaged as ‘progress.’ You will see breakfast cereals with cartoon mascots, fruit drinks that are mostly sugar and colour, and snacks promising energy and happiness in bright fonts.
Even products loaded with salt and unhealthy fats often wear a health halo labeled as fortified or natural, while the real nutritional risk is hidden in tiny print on the back. This is not just a consumer inconvenience; it is a public health blind spot. Ghana is living through a silent surge of non-communicable diseases (NCDs) like hypertension, diabetes, and stroke.
These conditions quietly drain household income and steal productive years. According to the Ghana Health Service (GHS) and World Health Organisation (WHO) estimates, NCDs are now responsible for nearly 45 per cent of all deaths in Ghana.
We cannot build a healthy nation on a food environment designed to confuse people at the point of purchase. Ghana must mandate simple front-of-pack warning labels (FOPWL) on high-sugar, high-salt, and high-fat packaged foods because consumers deserve truth at a glance, and industry must be pushed to reformulate.
Why Back-of-Pack Labels Are Not Enough
In theory, consumers can read nutrition panels. In reality, most Ghanaians shop under pressure, limited time, rising prices, and children tugging at their sleeves. The back label is a relic that requires a high cognitive load to interpret—essentially, the seller knows what is inside, but the buyer cannot easily tell.
This ‘information asymmetry’ is not fair. It is not consumer choice when the information needed to choose well is deliberately difficult to find.
Simple warning labels like the black octagons used in the Chilean Model act as a ‘stop-and-think’ nudge. They do not ban products but they simply tell the truth so people can decide.
Reshaping Our Food Environment
A generation ago, Ghana’s meals were mostly home-prepared, like kenkey and banku with soups and stews. Today, ultra-processed foods have become the norm, especially in urban areas. Children are growing up with sugary drinks and salty snacks as everyday items, not occasional treats.
If Ghana is serious about prevention, we must act where decisions are made—thus, the shelf. Warning labels protect parents from sugar traps and pressure the market to improve. When warning labels are mandatory, manufacturers start to compete to make healthier recipes to avoid the stigma of the label.
Addressing the Pushback
Industry will argue that labels create fear or that education alone is enough. However, health education is slow; labels work immediately. While the informal street food sector is a challenge, regulating pre-packaged goods is the practical starting point because the supply chain is traceable. We cannot wait until the whole system is perfect; we must start where action is feasible.
A 2026 Implementation Roadmap for Ghana
To move from talk to action, Ghana needs this 5-step plan:
- Issue mandatory regulation: The Ministry of Health, Food and Drug Authority (FDA), and Ghana Standards Authority (GSA) must define the label format and nutrient thresholds for all pre-packaged foods.
- Simple, bold symbols: Use plain language and clear symbols, such as “HIGH IN SUGAR,” designed for busy families, not experts.
- Transparent thresholds: Adopt technically defensible standards adapted to the Ghanaian diet.
- Transition and enforce: Provide a 12–18 month period for manufacturers to reformulate, followed by firm enforcement at ports and retail centers.
- National literacy campaign: The Ghana Health Service must pair labels with public messages explaining why high salt or sugar increases disease risk.
Conclusion: Truth Is Not a Luxury
Prevention is cheaper than treatment. A warning label costs little compared to the price of dialysis, stroke rehabilitation, or lifelong diabetes complications. A black octagon on a box of biscuits is more than a label; it is a shield for the health of all Ghanaians. It is time to put the truth where we can see it, right on the front.
By Abigail Amoah Sarfo
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Natives of the Kenkey Kingdom were mad with joy. They were still recovering from the hangover of the kingdom’s loss of the African Cup when their spirits were rekindled. Their great warrior, Zoom Zoom, stormed Melbourne and made sure that every Australian refused food. And that was after he had drawn contour lines on the face of their idol, Jeff Fenech.
Not only did the terrible warrior transform Old Boy Jeff’s face into a contour map useful for geography lessons, but he also accomplished the feat of retaining the much-envied super-kenkeyweight title against all odds. The warrior had not been eating hot kenkey for nothing.
The Fight Against Fenech
When Jeff Fenech bit the dust in the eighth round, I was tempted to consider if Adanko Deka could not have faced him in any twelve-rounder, title or non-title bout. Adanko has improved tremendously, and soon he would be facing Pernell Whitaker.
Sincerely, I was pessimistic about Azumah’s man, who the last time took him through twelve grueling rounds of rough boxing. I expressed my fears to my colleague Christian Abbew, alias Gbonyo, who surprisingly had total confidence that the Australian brawler would fall, predictably in Round Five.
Gbonyo gave reasons for his contention, all of which I counteracted using the age factor. Fact is, I didn’t know that contrary to the laws of nature, Azumah was all the time growing younger.
When Fenech fell briefly in round one, I asked my brother whether it was the same Fenech that fought Azumah in Las Vegas. Sure, it was the same Fenech, all out to beat Azumah before his countrymen.
But the African Professor had no intention of making the Australian a hero. As he spun round the desperate Aussie, dancing and stinging out his jabs, it was not too long before I realized that the end was near.
The Eighth Round Showdown
Two minutes into the eighth round, the African ring-master proved to the whole world that he was a true son of Bukom. He himself was cornered, but like the tough nut he is, he managed to break free before overwhelming the panting Australian with several blows that made him crash headlong.
Moments after, the referee, expressing fatherly sympathy, stopped the fight to prevent an obituary. After the ordeal, Fenech’s fairly handsome face was full of newly constructed hills, valleys, ox-bow lakes—whatever. I noticed that his nose was very tired and had a miniature volcano sitting restlessly on it. Obviously, Jeff’s wife will have to nurse that nose back to its normal shape—but I’d advise her not to use iodine, otherwise her dear husband will wail like a banshee.
Reflections on Boxing
Because Mohammed Ali was the kind of boxer kids liked, many school-going kids often entertained the wish of becoming like him. I remember one day when I told my father I wanted to become a boxer, and he advised me to first complete my education to the highest level. Then, if I decided to become a boxer and was knocked out a couple of times, I’d fall back on my degrees and make a living.
Boxing used to be interesting when bouts were fought more with the mouth and tongue than with gloves. You had to brag well, psychologically belittling your opponent before beating him up physically. Mohammed Ali became a very successful pugilist because he also managed to become a poet. He often blew his horn across America, calling himself the “pretty boxer” and opponents like Joe Frazier “the gorilla.”
Ali made a living fighting hard fists like Joe Frazier, Ken Norton, Jerry Quarry, George Foreman, Leon Spinks, and Trevor Berbick. Twice he came back from retirement to fight just for money. It was Larry Holmes who finally pensioned him, and since then the great Ali has never been himself.
The Path Ahead for Azumah
When Azumah nailed Jeff Fenech on the cross and barked almost immediately that he was after the head of Pernell Whitaker, I was happy but concerned. I would have been happier if he had announced his resignation there and then—he would have been more of a hero. Beating Fenech in Australia is more newsworthy than facing Whitaker in the States.
With Whitaker, it might be a little difficult. The “Sweet Pea” is agile, has a crooked body like a snake with diarrhea, and stands awkwardly as a southpaw. He is known for having the fastest pair of fists and the rare ability to dodge punches no matter how close they may be.
Much as I do not doubt that Azumah can take his title, I also don’t want him to retire beaten. I want him to retire as a hero and live a fuller, healthy life.
As Azumah himself said after dishing Fenech, he is now a professor and has something to show for it. Like a true professor, I think it is time he resigned and took up training young talents who could draw inspiration from him and become like him in the future.
Closing Thoughts
I must say that although ageing boxers like Larry Holmes and George Foreman are making a name for themselves, boxing is not like the Civil Service, where you can even change your age and retire at 74. Zoom Zoom has delighted the hearts of the natives, and Sikaman will forever hold him in high esteem—but only when he retires as a hero.
This article was first published on Saturday, March 7, 1992.
