In Ghana, every government comes with a prescription. Nkrumah gave us self-government, Rawlings gave us fear and flight, Kufuor gave us HIPC relief, Mills gave us peace, Mahama once gave us dumsor, and Nana Addo gifted us a cathedral blueprint taller than our national budget.
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Now, in 2025, Mahama returns with Operation Recover All Loots (ORAL)—a covenant with the people that was meant to wipe out corruption. But eight months down the road, the Republic’s mouth is aching. The promised ORAL check-up is beginning to look like ORS—Operation Recover Selectively. Ghanaians are left wondering whether the dentist has dozed off, leaving cavities to fester while molars gossip in the dark.
And speaking of mouths—before we even talk politics, do your gums feel healthy? A nation battling corruption cannot afford citizens battling bad breath. If your teeth are wobbling like our justice system, maybe it’s time for ProDentim—the probiotic formula designed for oral health. Unlike ORAL, this one actually works.
The Covenant and the Confusion
Operation Recover All Loots (ORAL) was no ordinary promise. It was a covenant, a blood oath sworn on campaign platforms from Chorkor to Bawku. The promise was that every pesewa stolen from the state would be recovered, every corrupt hand held to the fire. But in Ghana, campaign promises are like funeral cloths—bright on Saturday, faded by Wednesday.
Suddenly, Operation Recover All Loots began to sound like one of those itinerant crusades: “Healing Jesus Convention” this week, “Deliverance Fire Congress” the next. Today, it is ORAL. Tomorrow, it risks becoming OVAL—Operation Vanish All Loots—or worse, OYIBI—Operation You’ll Investigate But Ignore.
The Gallery of Scandals: Roll-Call of Absurdity
Let us, for a moment, enter the grand gallery of Ghana’s scandals. The files are not whispers. They lie in broad daylight like waakye leaves after a kenkey party.
ECG Containers Scandal: Over 2,600 containers at Tema Port, 54 still missing. In Ghanaian mathematics, that is called “finders keepers.” Liabilities circling GH¢1.5 billion.
National Service Scheme Ghost Names: Nearly 10,000 spirits collecting salaries. GH¢30.7 million gone. If ghosts pay tithe, some churches would have built three cathedrals by now.
The National Cathedral: GH¢339 million disbursed, US$97 million in commitments, and all we have is a pit in the ground deep enough for crocodile baptism.
PDS Collapse: A 20-year concession that lasted shorter than a Kumawood movie. It cost Ghana US$190 million in MCC funds.
Kelni GVG: A telecom contract worth US$178 million, now headed for non-renewal. The only revenue successfully monitored was their own.
And the list continues like a funeral dirge: BOST contaminated fuel, Pwalugu Dam, La Bianca, SSNIT’s US$72 million dud software, MIIF, Agyapa, PPA “Contracts for Sale,” galamsey ravaging rivers, COCOBOD fertilizers, the GH¢21 billion banking clean-up that cleaned out our pockets instead.
If you arrange all these scandals side by side, they form the biggest market in Ghana—Makola of Corruption.
Excuses and the Art of Foot-Dragging
Government officials, when cornered, say, “It is not easy.” As if fighting corruption is like climbing Afadjato with slippers. But is it more difficult than removing a sitting Chief Justice under Article 146? If that mountain was climbed, then surely prosecuting a few thieves is not Mount Everest.
Excuses are our national anthem:
When the trotro is late, the driver says “traffic.”
When BECE results fail, the student says “dumsor.”
When a worker is caught dozing at the office, he says, “I was praying in tongues.”
But a government with Operation Recover All Loots (ORAL) as its battle cry cannot be caught chewing excuses like sugarcane. Every delay is betrayal; every excuse is complicity.
Fiifi Kwetey’s Prophecy
Then, like a prophet in the wilderness, Fiifi Kwetey, the NDC General Secretary, rose at the 5th Annual NDC Lawyers Conference. His words shook the pillars:
“Some among us are busy trying to cut deals with people who are supposed to be prosecuted… I’m not mentioning names. But a time would come when we may have to…”
In Ghana, we say, “When the frog comes out of the water to say the crocodile is dead, you don’t doubt it.”
Fiifi’s warning is proof that even within the family, the firewood is smoking. The watchdog is licking the soup. The dog guarding the meat is secretly eating gizzard.
Justice and Selective Amnesia
Justice in Ghana is beginning to resemble a Sunday offertory session. When you drop coins, the pastor frowns and mutters, “God loves a cheerful giver.” But when a big man waves dollars, the same pastor calls for angels to blow trumpets. Some sins are scolded, others are sanctified.
This is how corruption cases are handled: one thief is paraded for stealing plantain, while another signs a billion-cedi contract and is given a seat of honour. But the people did not vote for selective blessings. They voted for cleansing fire. If Operation Recover All Loots becomes selective justice, then the Republic itself is on sale.
The Citizen’s Verdict
Citizens are not philosophers, but they are not fools either. They know when Operation Recover All Loots (ORAL) is turning into toothache. They know when the dentist is sleeping. They know when the medicine is water.
In Ghana, we say, “If you promise to weed the farm, don’t spend four years sharpening the cutlass.” Ghanaians are watching, counting, and recording. And when the day of reckoning comes, they will prescribe their own mouthwash in 2028. Because, truly, no convictions, no Republic.
Final Word
A Republic that cannot cleanse itself will collapse under the weight of its own cavities. And speaking of strength, brothers in the Republic: if the scandals have left you drained and your energy feels like ECG power, maybe you need a little help from Endopeak—a natural booster to restore vitality. Unlike political slogans, this one delivers.
Satire is my medicine. If you enjoyed this piece, grab my book Once Upon a Time in Ghana: Satirical Chronicles from the Republic of Uncommon Sense and keep laughing while thinking.
Also check out another satire from the Republic of Uncommon Sense for more laughs.