The risks inside a President’s inner circle are not guesswork. They come from a history we have lived and still feel. Nations stumble not only from the failures of presidents, but from the failures of the ecosystems around them.
It would be inaccurate to claim that every misstep of the Akufo Addo era came from his own intentions. Governance is more complex than that. I do not believe he sat in his classic chair and commanded his appointees to loot the nation. But greed flourished nonetheless, and some around him fed it boldly, loudly, and relentlessly on his blind side.
Those around him did him the greatest disservice. Their misconduct overshadowed even the few good interventions his administration attempted because Ghanaians were exhausted. Exhausted from scandal after scandal. Exhausted from arrogance. Exhausted from appointees who believed proximity to power was permission to plunder.
Look at the record closely. It was never a single storm. It was an entire season that unfolded in full view of the nation. Questionable contracts that stretched beyond logic. Procurement breaches that became routine. Loans taken without clarity and managed without discipline. Accountability that faded, reappeared, and then vanished again. These were not inventions of critics or exaggerations of opposition voices. The people did not imagine these scandals. They experienced them, paid for them, and carried their consequences. And through it all, the state was held together by one rope, the hope that the President himself still meant well. But hope alone could not protect him from the machinery of misjudgment built around him.
Where is Ofori Atta today? Once defended with unshakeable loyalty, now standing as a symbol of how misplaced trust can sink a nation’s economy. Akufo Addo was no financial guru. He trusted one. And that trust cost the country more than any justification could repair.
This is not an attempt to absolve him. Executive decisions were made that deepened the nation’s suffering. There were moments he should have intervened and chose silence. Leadership is never blameless. But alongside that truth is another one we ignore at our own risk. I saw a vulnerable man being taken advantage of by those who understood power better than he did, those who hid their ambitions behind the language of loyalty.
And that is why my reflection to President Mahama matters now. Not because he mirrors Akufo Addo, but because the pattern is older than any administration. When you become President, your team becomes your five senses. They hear for you. They see for you. They filter reality for you. They shape your perception of the nation you serve. But your convictions remain your own. If those five senses fail you, they can destroy even the most well intentioned vision. They can distort truth, bury clarity, and drag a country into storms the leader never chose.
A President’s greatest strength or greatest downfall is rarely found in his speeches. It is found in his circle.
Ghana has handed President Mahama a historic second chance, a mandate heavy with expectation. And it must be protected not only from the opposition, but from the ego, complacency, and entitlement that often gather closest to power. If the circle weakens, the center collapses. If the senses mislead, the vision dies.
I wrote what I wrote because Ghana cannot endure another administration undone from within. And it was important, and reassuring, to hear President Mahama tell the Christian Council in plain language that “Woe betide the first person who brings a corruption scandal to this government.” That is the clarity the nation needs, and the standard his inner circle must fear.
Source: Kay Codjoe
