Once upon a time in the Republic of Uncommon Sense, there lived a chief whose roof leaked whenever it rained. Each season he summoned the carpenter, who patched it with palm fronds and plaster. After every fix, the chief danced proudly in the courtyard, declaring: “This time, the leaks are arrested!” But when the next storm came, the roof sang its old chorus of drips. Finally, a wise elder told him: “Nana, the problem is not the storm. It is the roof pretending to be zinc. Until you change it, you will keep fetching water in your own bedroom.”
Ghana, I fear, is that roof.The latest storm is America’s deportee politics. Flights land, headlines trend, and bureaucracy hums. Though many outlets shout about Ghana deportees, the reality is broader: Nigerians, Gambians, and other West Africans were swept into a U.S. removal process and routed through Accra. Yet the political rainwater still drips through the ceiling of our sovereignty.The spectacle of Ghana deportees arriving on U.S. flights masks a deeper story — one where Accra bears the blame while West Africa shares the burden.
Old Leaks, New Patches
In his first term, President Mahama smuggled in the Guantanamo detainees — a deal hushed like a stolen goat at midnight. The Supreme Court later reminded him that the Constitution is not a side note: Parliament must bless such marriages before the honeymoon.
Now, history hums the same chorus. Fourteen West Africans — Nigerians and Gambians among them — reportedly landed in Ghana, deported from the U.S. Lawsuits allege straitjackets, shackles, and bread-and-water rations on the flight. They are being held at a remote open-air site near Tema — described in some filings as “Dema Camp.” Ghanaian sources don’t use that name, and officials have yet to clarify the exact facility.
Meanwhile, a U.S. judge is probing whether this arrangement sidesteps legal protections, exposing people to pushback toward places they fear — the very harm the principle of non-refoulement warns against. Our government’s reply? That ECOWAS free movement makes such transit routine. But a nation cannot outsource sovereignty to “routine.”
What the “Ghana deportees” label hides
Headlines are blunt instruments. The planes land at Kotoka, so the phrase “Ghana deportees” sticks like banku to the pot. Never mind that many of those flown in are Nigerians, Gambians, or even the odd Sierra Leonean — once Accra is the runway, Ghana is the headline. Language becomes a loophole: a tidy label for a messy policy. And when sloppy words take root, sloppy governance soon follows. Just as the media cuts corners with truth, our leaders patch leaks with slogans, holding umbrellas where a roof should be.
The Cost of Leaks
Every roof leak has a cost. Buckets of water in the bedroom may start small, but over time, termites chew the beams, paint peels off the walls, and dignity rots quietly away. Ghana’s leaks are measured in credibility. Each time our leaders sign deals in secrecy, without the disinfectant of Parliamentary sunlight, our Constitution drips a little thinner.
- Credibility: Secret arrangements thin our constitutional roof until it resembles palm fronds in a hurricane.
- Perception: The world whispers that Ghana is not a Black Star but a Black Storeroom — a depot for unfinished business.
- Human dignity: Shackles, tarpaulin skies, and bureaucratic limbo redefine what it means to “arrive home.”
- Regional trust: ECOWAS is not a broom for sweeping constitutional dust under the carpet.
- Legal ambiguity: Where locations are fuzzy and documents sealed, rights evaporate in the fog.
- Economic opacity: Who pays? Who profits? If the ledger is secret, the debt is public.
- Precedent: Normalize shortcuts today, and tomorrow’s storms will demand even bigger umbrellas.
Proverbs for the Times
- “When the frog croaks strangely, know it has swallowed something bigger than itself.”
- “He who rents his room for free should not be surprised when visitors bring their own padlocks.”
- “A borrowed broom cannot sweep your house clean.”
- “If the roof keeps leaking, one day even the rats will leave.”
These proverbs capture the absurdity: we are hosting shackled arrivals under tarpaulin skies while Parliament snores through the storm. Hospitality is noble; secrecy is not. If we must help our West African cousins, we should do it in the sun, with Parliament’s eyes open and the public’s consent.
The Public Chorus
On social media, the people are not fooled. Some clap: “We are ECOWAS; West Africans are welcome.” Others fume: “Ghana is not America’s dustbin. Deportees today, what next tomorrow?” And sympathy rises: outrage that human beings were flown like cargo, shackled and dumped under tarpaulin skies.
The Moral
A country that treats its Constitution like an afterthought is like a chief patching his leaking roof with palm fronds. You may dance for a season, but the next storm will remind you that water always finds a way. The phrase Ghana deportees will keep trending as long as we govern by shortcuts, but the remedy is simple: change the roof.
Replace secrecy with transparency; replace executive shortcuts with Parliamentary debate. If we do not, sovereignty will keep dripping away, bucket by bucket — and the Republic of Uncommon Sense will inherit a new nickname: the Republic of Common Dump.
Until policies match reality, the label of Ghana deportees will keep circling headlines like a broken record, drowning nuance in noise.
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