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I remember a time when I fell seriously ill—eventually diagnosed with hepatitis B. It was one of the most harrowing experiences of my life.
Each day began with a faint glimmer of normalcy, only to descend into hours of pain, vomiting, and unbearable discomfort. I couldn’t keep food down. Initially, doctors treated me for malaria—despite multiple negative test results—and for weeks, I grew weaker and more hopeless.
It was only after several failed treatments that they finally discovered I had hepatitis. Even then, my condition worsened until I was referred to Korle Bu Teaching Hospital. It was there, by the grace of God, that I finally found healing.
That experience left a lasting impression.
And it is that memory that makes the recent public treatment of Ghana’s former Finance Minister, Ken Ofori-Atta, all the more unsettling.
We’ve been told he’s seriously unwell. Yet what we see from sections of the public—media commentators, political actors, and even respected professionals—is a chilling lack of empathy. The jokes, the vilification, the casual indifference—they don’t just wound the man, they erode the soul of our society. What have we become?
Has political anger stripped us of our humanity?
Some say it’s because of the controversial policies—the debt exchange, the taxes, and the banking sector clean-up. But can one man be blamed for all our economic hardships? These policies were never the work of a single individual.
They were state-led decisions, shaped by internal weaknesses and external shocks—including a global pandemic and mounting global debt crises. Even if errors were made, does that justify the level of hatred now directed at him?
Public justice is not mob justice. The principle of “innocent until proven guilty” still matters.
Yet the Office of the Special Prosecutor has gone as far as re-declaring a medically unwell man a fugitive—a move that feels less about justice and more about optics.
We should be alarmed.
Where are the moral voices? Where are our traditional leaders? Where are the pastors who preach mercy?
Where are the judges, lawyers, scholars, and civic leaders who should be reminding us that compassion is not a weakness? Why are so many watching silently as the lines between accountability and cruelty are blurred?
This is not about defending a politician. It is about protecting a principle: that dignity and due process are not optional. It is about preventing a national culture of vindictiveness from taking root.
Consider Zambia. Not long ago, former President Edgar Lungu reportedly died after being denied permission to travel abroad for urgent medical treatment.
The state delayed the issuance of his travel clearance multiple times because of his alleged financial misconduct, which was under legal scrutiny at the time.
Although he eventually travelled, it was under undignified circumstances—and too late. That tragedy is a warning of what happens when vendetta overtakes decency. Ghana must not follow the same path.
And we must not forget the story of Major Maxwell Adam Mahama, a young Ghanaian military officer who lost his life in 2017 under horrific circumstances.
While on official duty in Denkyira-Obuasi, Major Mahama was mistaken for an armed robber and brutally lynched by a mob.
The violence was merciless, public, and fuelled by misinformation, fear, and a herd mentality. It was one of the most painful reminders of what happens when society abandons due process and surrenders to raw emotion.
He wasn’t just a victim of mob action—he was a casualty of our collective impatience with truth, law, and humanity. That dark episode should have taught us never to justify or normalize mob instincts, whether in the streets or in our politics.
If a former official can be treated this way, what fate awaits the average citizen?
This moment echoes the story of Christ—when an angry crowd, driven by confusion and political emotion, shouted “Crucify him!” without real evidence. Today, we risk becoming that crowd. Loud. Unthinking. And dangerously wrong.
Let justice be done—but let it be done with patience, lawfulness, and humanity. The Office of the Special Prosecutor must remember it is not above the Constitution. No one is.
Let those with cool heads, steady hearts, and moral clarity rise now and say, “Enough.”
Ghana must not lose its soul.
Written by: Kwabena Adjei, a concerned citizen
