Hannan & Wife Deploy a Two-Step Escape Plan-Medical Excuses, Forged Documents and a Child as Cover
TNR Files
The motion landed in the Accra High Court registry on July 22, just six days before the scheduled hearing. It was neatly filed, politely worded, and, on its face, utterly sympathetic: a mother begging the court to let her take her seven‑year‑old son abroad for urgent psychiatric treatment.
But to anyone who has been tracking the corruption case against former National Food Buffer Stock Company (NAFCO) CEO Hanan Abdul‑Wahab Aludiba and his wife, Faiza Seidu Wuni, the application reads less like a plea for medical mercy and more like the second act of a carefully choreographed escape plan.
The first act, you see, already happened.
Months earlier, Hanan Aludiba had secured court permission to leave Ghana for medical treatment abroad. It was a routine request, and the court, perhaps unsuspecting, granted it. But while Hanan was ostensibly preparing for his trip, law enforcement authorities discovered something alarming: he had attempted to use fictitious documents to empty his frozen bank accounts a move designed to siphon funds out of the country before his departure.
The scheme was intercepted, but the message was clear: Hanan was not planning to return.
Now, with his own travel window closed, the couple has shifted tactics. Enter Faiza Seidu Wuni, the wife, who stands accused of laundering the very money her husband allegedly stole from NAFCO. On July 22, she filed an urgent application asking the court to release her passport so she can take their son, Sa‑ad Wuni‑Mi, to the London Psychiatry Hospital for a consultation scheduled for August 5.
The timing is exquisite. The court is about to enter its legal vacation. The trial, already sluggish, could be derailed for weeks or months. And Mrs. Aludiba, if granted leave, would be thousands of miles away, with a child in tow and a passport in hand the very document the court has been holding to ensure she stands trial.
According to Mrs. Aludiba’s affidavit, the couple’s son was first diagnosed with “emotional difficulties and executive function disorder” by his school, the Ghana International School, on September 10, 2025. Executive function disorder impairs planning, focus, and impulse control a serious condition, to be sure.
But here is the first red flag: after that initial diagnosis, the family waited ten full months until July 13, 2026 before seeking a formal psychological assessment at the Mission Clinic in Accra. Ten months. No explanation is offered for the delay. The child, we are told, was struggling. Yet the parents, both of whom had the resources to seek immediate help, did nothing for nearly a year.
It was only after that July 13 assessment and crucially, after Hanan’s own travel bid had been thwarted that the clinician recommended a comprehensive evaluation for ADHD and intellectual functioning. And it was only then, on July 22, that Mrs. Aludiba suddenly booked an appointment with Dr. Tarik Dahoun at the London Psychiatry Clinic, with a first consultation set for August 5.
The speed of the booking is astonishing a mere nine days after the local assessment yet the family had been sitting on a school diagnosis for ten months. The inference is unavoidable: the urgency is not medical; it is legal.
Mrs. Aludiba’s affidavit is careful to sound reasonable. She swears she is not a flight risk. She promises to return her passport the moment the court asks. She notes that the trial is unlikely to have scheduled hearings during the court’s vacation, and that her trip will not cause “undue delay.”
But the affidavit also contains a telling admission: she expects a follow‑up appointment after August 5, and she requests the entire month of August to “finalize my son’s health concern.” The court vacation, as she well knows, runs through much of August. By the time the court reconvenes, Mrs. Aludiba could have been in London for weeks, with every opportunity to extend her stay, apply for further medical leave, or simply vanish.
The couple’s track record does not inspire confidence. Hanan has already demonstrated a willingness to use forged documents to move money. The State’s case against them is damning: 20 criminal counts in total, including stealing, defrauding by false pretences, willfully causing financial loss to the state, using public office for profit, and money laundering. The prosecution has painted them as a “Bonnie and Clyde” duo, acting in concert to loot the national coffers during the Akufo‑Addo administration.
Mrs. Aludiba herself faces three counts: defrauding by false pretences, dishonestly receiving money, and money laundering. She is not a casual observer in this case; she is an alleged co‑conspirator.
The affidavit leans heavily on the Children’s Act, 1998 (Act 560), arguing that it is in the “best interest” of the child to receive specialist medical attention abroad, and that his mother is the most appropriate person to accompany him given his emotional needs.
No reasonable person would dispute the importance of a child’s health. But the Act also requires courts to balance the child’s welfare against the public interest in ensuring that accused persons stand trial. And here, the balance tilts heavily against the applicant.
If the child truly required urgent psychiatric care, why was there no effort to seek it earlier? If the local medical system was inadequate, why was a referral not made immediately after the September 2025 diagnosis? The answers are not in the affidavit. They are, however, implicit in the sequence of events: Hanan’s travel bid failed, so his wife stepped forward with a new, more emotionally resonant excuse.
It is also worth noting that the child could travel with a guardian, a relative, or even a professional medical escort. The insistence that only the mother can accompany him a mother facing serious criminal charges and the prospect of a lengthy prison sentence raises additional questions about the genuineness of the application.
The court has scheduled a hearing today, July 28. It is not yet known whether the State will oppose the application. But if prosecutors have been paying attention and they should be they will note the pattern of deception, the suspicious timing, and the couple’s demonstrated willingness to exploit legal processes for their own gain.
Hanan Aludiba already secured one travel permission and used the interim to attempt financial fraud. His wife now seeks a second permission, with a story that does not withstand scrutiny. The court must ask: if she is granted leave, what guarantee exists that she will return? Her affidavit offers a promise, but the couple’s history offers only broken trust.
This case is not merely about one family’s attempt to evade justice. It is about a recurring vulnerability in Ghana’s judicial system the willingness to grant travel permissions based on plausible‑sounding medical claims, without rigorous vetting. The same system that allowed Hanan to nearly escape is now being asked to let his wife walk through the same door.
The court’s decision on today,(if it happens) will send a signal. If the application is granted, it will embolden other accused persons to deploy similar tactics. If it is denied, it will reaffirm that the justice system is awake to the ruses of the rich and powerful.
But even a denial cannot erase the months of delay already inflicted by these maneuvers. The trial has been dragging, and each new application each new excuse pushes accountability further into the future. Meanwhile, the millions allegedly stolen from NAFCO remain unaccounted for, and the public’s patience wears thin.
Mrs. Aludiba’s son deserves the best possible care. But he also deserves parents who are not accused of plundering the nation’s food security budget. And the people of Ghana deserve a court that can distinguish between a genuine medical emergency and a well‑crafted escape plan.
The evidence in the affidavit the ten‑month gap, the rushed appointment, the court vacation, the husband’s prior fraud speaks for itself. This is not about a child. This is about a couple that has already tried to run once, and is now trying again, hoping that the court will be moved more by sentiment than by suspicion.
Today, we will know if they are right.