By David Tamakloe
The spectacle of a high-profile figure fleeing, the urgent whispers about extradition, and the grim calculus of political risk this is the simmering drama surrounding former Finance Minister Ken Ofori-Atta.
But to view this merely as a political standoff is to miss the deeper, more corrosive crisis it represents. It is a direct test of whether Ghana’s institutions can administer justice without succumbing to political theatrics or collapsing under the weight of their own prior failures.
The cold political analysis is stark, as laid out in confidential assessments. There are those for whom Ofori-Atta’s permanent exile might seem a tidy solution, avoiding a destabilizing trial. Bringing him back, by contrast, is seen as lighting a fuse. It would demand a massive, 24-hour security apparatus to protect him from potential violence.
It would unleash inevitable protests peaceful and otherwise and turn every courtroom appearance into a national drama. The political opposition would cry witch hunt; the proceedings would become a circus of mutual recrimination, diverting from governance and potentially rebounding to the benefit of his former allies.
This is the cynical playbook, a game where justice is assessed not by principle but by poll numbers and stability indexes. Yet, the public demand for accountability is a force that cannot be simply managed.
After years of allegations and a relentless cost-of-living crisis, a significant portion of the citizenry, across party lines, wants to see consequential figures answer for their tenure.
The state’s legitimacy now hinges on this performance. Failure to secure a conviction, the analysis warns, would not be seen as an acquittal but as a systemic failure, with public fury turning on the very government that promised accountability.
But here lies the rub: the path to a credible conviction is already strewn with obstacles of the state’s own making. The Office of the Special Prosecutor (OSP), tasked with leading such fights, has by its own admission muddled aspects of the case. This prosecutorial missteps gift the defense its first line of attack.
The courtroom will inevitably become a forum not just for examining Ofori-Atta’s actions, but for putting the entire Akufo-Addo administration on trial. Cabinet decisions will be wielded as shields; former President Akufo-Addo will be invoked as a ghost in the chamber.
The defense strategy is clear: to frame every decision as a collective, executive act, blurring the lines of individual responsibility beyond recognition. And what of the courts? There is a pervasive, debilitating fear that the judiciary itself may become an actor in this political theater, that delays and procedural complexities could be used not to find truth, but to foster public disillusionment.
This is the ultimate betrayal: a justice system perceived as a tool for political entrenchment rather than a pillar of republic. Ofori-Atta’s refusal to return, framed as a fear of “political witch hunting,” is a pre-emptive strike on the process’s legitimacy.
Yet, the public’s insistence that he must face justice “irrespective of security problems or political witch hunt” speaks to a deeper, more profound hunger. It is a demand for a resolution to the unanswered questions that hang over the nation’s recent history.
This is the real dilemma. It is not simply a question of whether to bring him back, but how to do so in a way that elevates the rule of law above the political fray.
A process that is seen as rushed, vindictive, or incompetently prosecuted will satisfy no one and poison the well for future accountability. A process that is endlessly delayed or legally neutered will confirm the public’s worst suspicions about a protected elite.
The Ofori-Atta case has become a trap, but one of Ghana’s own making. It is the culmination of years of eroded trust, blurred lines between party and state, and institutions that have too often acted with impunity or ineptitude. Navigating it will require something far rarer than political strategy: a disciplined, transparent, and scrupulously fair adherence to the law, by all actors.
The alternative is not stability, but a slow-burning verdict from the public, one of profound and lasting cynicism. The nation’s faith in justice itself is on the docket.