Public office in Ghana is like a mango tree in your neighbour’s house. You didn’t plant it, you didn’t water it, but when the fruit ripens, your only job is to climb, pluck, and share the spoils — preferably before the neighbour notices the tree was ever theirs. We condemn corruption passionately. We mount platforms, we quote scriptures, we shake our heads so hard you’d think integrity is suffering an earthquake. But behind the scenes? Envelopes slide like skilful midfield passes. Policemen’s palms open wider than offertory baskets on Easter Sunday. Contracts change owners faster than fuel prices at the pump.
