Tag: Ato Forson

Blog Series, Ghana's Political Economy, Ghanaian Politics, Political Satire & Fiction, Politics, The Bandage Economy, UK Politics

Episode 3: The Giants and Their Taunts

Dr. George Asiamah

The dust settled for a moment at the Agyakrom Arena. Cedi was on his feet again, swinging punches with a swagger only steroids can buy. The crowd still sang, kelewele still hissed in pans, and trotro mates hung off the stands like drunken griots, whistling victory songs.

But the giants had not retired. They had only been surprised. And when giants recover from surprise, their words weigh heavier than their fists.

With a chest broad as the Atlantic and oil barrels rolling behind him, Dollar spat sand and bellowed:

“Listen, small boy! You think you can beat me with temporary medicine? I am not just a fighter; I am plumbing. Every pipe in your economy flows through me – fuel contracts, global trade, your IMF injections. If your pipes leak, I will flood your house. Fix the pipes, and maybe – just maybe – I will calm down. But keep wasting reserves, and I will return with thunder.”

Cedi clenched his fists, but the ache under the bandage whispered, “He is not lying.”

Adjusting his dusty monocle, Pound cleared his throat like a retired headmaster calling assembly.

“You colonial students never learn. Every September, you run to me with your school fees. Every December, you buy my spare parts for your trotro funerals. Every Easter, you come for my visas, my remittances, my consultants. And then you complain when I tighten your throat? Build skills at home, and I shall stop billing you like a stubborn headteacher. Until then, I remain your examiner, and the pass mark is in sterling.”

Cedi glared, but behind his fury lay memories of parents selling land for tuition abroad. He had no reply.

Euro dusted his stack of papers, each stamped with blue stars. His twenty-seven soldiers stood like clerks behind him, filing invoices.

“You punch me today, but tomorrow your ships will dock at my ports, begging for machinery, medicines, and wheat. You say you can fight me, but can your factories meet my standards? Can your farmers pass my sanitary tests? You depend on my bread, my vaccines, my machines. Until you build your own, you cannot escape my clipboard. Imports due, my friend. Imports are always due.”

Cedi tried to laugh it off, but deep in his gut he remembered: even cocoa beans needed European chocolate factories before they reached their true value.

The people in the stands argued.

Some jeered at the giants:
“Stop bullying our Cedi! Today he is winning. Tomorrow too he will win!”

Others scratched their heads:
“Hmm. Dollar, Pound, and Euro sound arrogant, but are they not speaking truth? If we do not produce, how can we stop them from charging us rent?”

The kelewele seller muttered, “My oil still comes from Dollar’s cousin. Unless we fry with palm oil only, we will keep smelling his kitchen.”

The Old Wise Man listened from his corner, eyes closed, staff tapping the earth like a metronome.

He spoke softly:
“Ɔkɔtɔ nwo anoma.”
(The crab does not give birth to a bird.)

“The Cedi cannot pretend to be what he is not. Steroids make him leap, but they cannot change his bones. If he does not build his own muscles—factories, farms, savings—he will always be dragged back to the mudflats where the crab belongs. A crab cannot fly; it must walk its own way. And if it wishes to fly, it must build wings, not borrow feathers.”

The crowd fell silent. Even the trotro mate stopped whistling.

Policy Reflection — What the Giants’ Taunts Mean

  • Dollar’s taunt = Ghana’s dependence on oil imports, external borrowing, and reserve burn. Without fixing fiscal leaks and building real reserves, Dollar remains the landlord.
  • Pound’s taunt = Education, remittances, spare parts, and consultancy dependence. Heavy outflows to the UK weaken Cedi each year. The solution is building skills, industries, and alternatives at home.
  • Euro’s taunt = Dependency on European standards and imports (machines, medicines, food). Until local industries meet those standards, Euro’s clipboard rules Ghana’s destiny.

Lesson: These “giants” are not just villains – they are mirrors. Their taunts expose the weak ribs of the economy. The crowd may not like the insults, but the insults are data.

Blog Series, Ghana's Political Economy, Ghanaian Politics, Political Satire & Fiction, Politics, The Bandage Economy

Episode One: The Fall of the Cedi

Dr. George Asiamah

The drums of Agyakrom Arena rolled, and the crowd gathered. In the red corner stood Cedi, the wiry fighter of the land. He wasn’t the tallest, nor the strongest, but he carried cocoa in his fists, gold in his teeth, and oil dripping down his back. The people chanted his name, believing their warrior could at last tame the mighty giants.

Behind him stood his commander, the NPP Marshal, decorated not with medals but with slogans stitched into his uniform: “Battle-Tested Plan,” “Dr. Fundamentals,” “One District, One Factory.” His sword gleamed with promises; his shield shone with borrowed optimism.

“Forward, Cedi!” the marshal shouted. “This is your destiny.”

But the battle was no village wrestling contest. Across the arena, three giants lumbered forward: Dollar, broad-chested, carrying oil barrels in one hand and global invoices in the other. Pound, dressed like a retired colonial officer, cane tucked under his arm, school-fee receipts in his pocket. Euro, tall, sleek, marching in formation with twenty-seven foot soldiers holding briefcases of regulations, machinery, and pharmaceuticals.

The whistle blew.

Dollar swung first, a heavy punch from crude oil imports. Cedi staggered. Pound jabbed with spare parts and tuition fees, cracking his ribs. Euro didn’t shout; he suffocated him quietly with wheat, vaccines, and machinery. The crowd gasped as Cedi stumbled, his shield splintered, his armour cracked.

“Hold the line!” the marshal cried. But the line broke. Cedi fell face-first in the dust, groaning, the flag of Agyakrom trampled beneath him.

The people looked at each other in silence. The trotro mate muttered: “So, this is the plan?” A Makola trader shook her head: “Even my tomatoes are ashamed.”

The giants didn’t even boast; they simply stood over him, as if to say: “This is what happens when you enter the ring unprepared.”

Proverb

“Sɛ nsuyire ba a, ɛna yɛhu deɛ ne kodoɔ yɛ papa.”
(When the floods come, we see the quality of the canoe.)

Policy Reflection

When global storms hit – rising oil prices, higher imports, currency shocks – Cedi revealed what had long been hidden: an economy built on weak planks. The canoe had been painted with slogans, but its wood was cracked. Imports outpaced exports, debts outpaced revenues, and buffers were too thin to weather the current.

In the flood of global markets, you do not rise by chanting; you rise by building a canoe that floats.

Read Episode Two

Energy Policy, Ghana News, Ghana's Political Economy, Ghanaian Politics, Politics

Pay 1 Cedi to End Dumsor? Structural Constraints vs Fiscal Fixes

Dr. George Asiamah

On 4 June 2025, Ghana’s Parliament passed a controversial bill introducing a one-cedi per litre levy on petroleum products – framed as a necessary intervention to address the ever-growing debt in the energy sector and, ultimately, to end the country’s lingering electricity supply challenges, popularly known as “dumsor.” The ruling NDC government justified the move by pointing fingers at the mismanagement of the previous administration, suggesting that the Energy Sector Recovery Programme had failed to achieve its intended financial restructuring. Now, they argue, it falls upon the public to pay – not for their sins, but for those of their predecessors. The catch? They promise this is the last push, the final Cedi to buy stability. One more sacrifice so we may see the light, literally.

But this move raises deeper questions about Ghana’s fiscal and political architecture, the nature of state-society relations, and the recurring tension between revenue mobilisation and public trust. While on the surface, the D-Levy is merely an energy financing mechanism, at its core, it exemplifies the political economy of managing scarcity, debt, and blame in a fragile democracy. Ghana has been here before. Levies have often emerged as government tools of last resort – temporary solutions that quietly become permanent fiscal burdens. Recall the price stabilisation levy, the sanitation levy, and more recently, the infamous e-levy. Many were billed as short-term interventions. Few were repealed. Even fewer were transparently accounted for.

To understand the deeper dilemma, one must examine the contradiction embedded in this levy. On the one hand, government presents it as an unavoidable necessity – the only path to restructuring the crippling legacy debt owed to Independent Power Producers (IPPs), fuel suppliers, and financiers. On the other, it insists that the cost to consumers will be negligible because the Cedi has recently appreciated, causing a marginal drop in pump prices. This is a risky fiscal narrative. It assumes currency appreciation is stable, and that petroleum product prices are not volatile. But in Ghana, neither is guaranteed. In fact, both are shaped by exogenous global shocks, domestic political risks, and structural vulnerabilities. To peg the justification for a permanent levy to a temporary macroeconomic blip is, at best, politically disingenuous.

Moreover, this levy arrives at a time when the government is trying to demonstrate that it is reversing some of the more unpopular decisions of the previous regime. The removal of the e-levy, a tax on electronic transactions, was lauded as a win for ordinary Ghanaians. But with the new D-Levy, critics argue, the government has merely shifted the burden from the digital economy to the pump. As some have quipped, “E-levy out, Dumsor D-Levy in.” The logic of this substitution is hardly comforting. For many households and informal sector workers, the increase in transport fares triggered by the levy could be more punitive than the e-levy they celebrated seeing repealed. The narrative, then, becomes one of robbing Peter to pay Paul, all under the guise of energy stability.

The political economy implications are profound. First, the D-Levy reinforces a trend in Ghanaian fiscal policy where governments resort to indirect taxes and levies to fund structural inefficiencies, rather than addressing the root causes. These include overcapacity in power generation, misaligned procurement contracts, and opaque financial arrangements with IPPs. Second, it exposes the failure of successive governments to ringfence public funds or build institutional trust. Civil society actors have long complained about the lack of transparency in how energy levies are spent. Audits are sporadic, reports often withheld, and public oversight weak. In this environment, even a well-meaning levy appears predatory.

Finally, this situation raises philosophical questions about who bears the cost of public failure in Ghana. Is it fair to ask today’s citizens to fund yesterday’s poor contracts, bloated power deals, and policy inertia? And if so, where is the evidence that this new stream of revenue will be managed differently? The D-Levy is not just about energy – it is about the moral and institutional legitimacy of governance. It is about the citizen’s role not just as taxpayer, but as shareholder in a public enterprise that seems to suffer from chronic mismanagement. If the goal is to end dumsor, then fiscal tools must be matched with structural reforms, transparency, and a governance model that rewards efficiency rather than excuses it.

In the end, Ghana’s energy future cannot be levied into stability. It must be planned, trusted, and built. A one-cedi solution to a multi-billion dollar governance problem may win a few political points in the short term. But without systemic reform, it risks becoming just another levy in the dark.

Ghana News, Ghana's Political Economy, Ghanaian Politics, Politics

Don’t Bet on the Cedi… It Has Mood Swings

Dr. George Asiamah

In Ghana, we celebrate the cedi’s short-term gains like a political victory parade. And in 2025, the band is playing again. The cedi has appreciated by over 24% against the US dollar in just a few months, dropping from over GH₵16 to around GH₵10.35. On the surface, this looks like redemption. A national comeback. Proof that the “economic management team” is finally awake.

But before we start naming our kids after the Finance Minister, and nominate the currency for the Nobel Prize in Economic Recovery, let’s take a hard, analytical look. Because history – and economic logic – tell us this performance is more likely to be a sugar rush than a sustainable meal.

Here’s why:

Supply of Dollars Will Begin to Dry Up

When a currency appreciates sharply in a short period, it disturbs the natural rhythm of the market. Those who hold dollars become hesitant. If you had dollars at GH₵16 and now it’s GH₵13, you’re not going to rush and exchange. You’ll wait – watching nervously, hoping the cedi will slide again so you can recover your margin. This behavior is natural, and it immediately begins to choke supply.

Remittance flows, a critical lifeline of Ghana’s forex market, also respond negatively. When the cedi is weak, sending money from abroad makes sense. For instance, if someone sending $100 previously got GH₵1,600 but now gets only GH₵1,300, they may wait or send less. Some may delay their projects, especially, if the appreciation of the currency does not correspond to reduction in price of goods. That is to say, whenever there is a sharp appreciation of a currency, inflows naturally slow, and another source of foreign currency begins to dry up.

Exporters, too, feel the pinch. When they convert their dollar earnings into cedis at a weaker rate, they earn more. But with this new wave of appreciation, their revenue in local currency shrinks. Rational business people do what rational business people do: they delay repatriation, under-invoice their exports, or keep funds abroad. Again, this starves the market of much-needed forex.

Demand for Dollars Will Start Creeping Up

While the supply side begins to strain, the demand side quietly builds up pressure. A stronger cedi means cheaper imports. For a heavily import-dependent country like Ghana, this spells trouble. As imports become more affordable, importers begin to order more – everything from electronics and machinery to fuel and food. This increased demand for dollars puts pressure back on the very currency that was just gaining strength.

Then comes the speculator class. These actors don’t buy into the hype – they’ve seen this before. Every sharp appreciation, they argue, is a temporary market sugar high. So while everyone else is praising the finance ministry, speculators begin to quietly accumulate dollars, betting on the inevitable reversal. And they are often right. Once the market begins to sense that the rally is over, the panic starts. Importers scramble for dollars. Parents looking to pay school fees abroad rush to buy. Businesses accelerate their purchases. The psychology shifts from confidence to fear, and in that moment, the cedi starts its descent.

The Invisible Hand the Gravity of Reality

This isn’t a new story. In 2015, the cedi surged in June, and by August, it had fallen just as sharply. In 2022, the same pattern repeated. There’s nothing uniquely 2025 about this. We are simply watching the same script play out, only with new actors and slightly different lines.

What’s often missing in these debates is the understanding that the market, like nature, abhors imbalance. Adam Smith called it the “invisible hand.” But let’s call it what it is – gravity. You can push the cedi up with policy tools, foreign inflows, gold-for-oil arrangements, or central bank interventions. But if the structural foundations aren’t strong – if your economy still imports more than it exports, still depends on remittances and commodity booms, still lacks industrial depth – then the appreciation is merely a balloon on a windy day.

Eventually, gravity wins.

So yes, you may clap for the cedi now. You may tweet, “Ato Forson is the man!” or argue over whether Bawumia could’ve done this. But remember: unless we fix the fundamentals, every sharp rise will end with a fall. That’s not cynicism – it’s economics. And unlike politics, economics doesn’t campaign. It simply responds.

Ghana News, Ghana's Political Economy, Ghanaian Politics, Politics

The Cedi is Smiling – But Should We…?

Dr. George Asiamah

Over the past month, Ghanaians have witnessed a sharp appreciation of the Cedi. All the major trading currencies, especially the US Dollars, are now being humbled by our currency – causing ripples of excitement across radio shows, social media, and street corners. In a country where exchange rate movements are treated with the same passion as Black Stars matches, the recent cedi performance is naturally triggering political bragging rights.

With the NDC back in office for less than six months, some supporters have already crowned Dr. Cassiel Ato Forson the miracle worker. “What Bawumia and Ofori-Atta couldn’t do in 8 years, Ato Forson has done in 6 months!” is the new anthem of partisan pride. But while we celebrate with dancing emojis and #CediIsBack hashtags, let’s take a breath – and a glance into our rearview mirror.

Because we’ve been here before.

Déjà vu, Anyone?

In President Mahama’s first term (2012–2016), Ghanaians saw similar episodes. At one point in 2014, the cedi lost nearly 40% of its value – then made a dramatic comeback after the Bank of Ghana injected dollars and tightened monetary policy. The then Finance Minister, Seth Terkper, even launched the now infamous “Home Grown Policies” programme – celebrated by some, criticized by others, and followed by an IMF bailout.

Each time the cedi gained strength, we thought the corner had been turned. Each time, the dollar eventually reminded us who was boss.

Even under the Akufo-Addo/Bawumia administration, the cedi had its brief “honeymoon” phases – especially after Eurobond inflows, syndicated cocoa loans, or IMF disbursements. The currency appreciated, optimism surged, but then came the reversals. These were not failures of specific finance ministers alone – they were reflections of a structural vulnerability that runs deep in the Ghanaian economy.

Political Football or Economic Fundamentals?

The temptation to turn every uptick into a partisan football match is strong. We know the rules: If the cedi falls, blame the Finance Minister. If it rises, crown him saviour. But currency strength isn’t the product of charisma or political proximity to President Mills’ ghost. It’s about fundamentals, market confidence, and often, external factors we can’t control.

No doubt, the new finance minister deserves credit for calming the markets. His tone has been measured, his statements less performative than his predecessors’, and his initial actions suggest an effort to restore fiscal discipline. That said, the real test will come in:

  • Managing debt repayments without mortgaging future revenues;
  • Growing domestic production to reduce reliance on imports;
  • Expanding the tax base without stifling growth;
  • And reforming institutions to prevent future macroeconomic shocks.

Can the NDC administration resist the political pressure to over-spend ahead of elections? Can it negotiate smartly with the IMF, without triggering public backlash or social unrest? Can it shield the poor while implementing structural reforms?

That’s where the actual battle lies – not in the month-to-month dance of the exchange rate.

What Are the Real Indicators?

Is inflation down sustainably? Are we exporting more than we import? Is the tax base broadening? Are we reducing our debt-servicing burden, or merely refinancing it? These are the indicators that will tell us whether this cedi appreciation is a trend or a teaser.

We’re also yet to see the full fiscal picture. The mid-year budget will be the real test of Ato Forson’s strategy. Will he cut politically costly subsidies? Will he resist the temptation of printing money to fund populist programmes? Will he negotiate with external creditors and investors in ways that secure both debt relief and investor confidence?

These are not six-month miracles. They are long-haul battles. And even a sharp appreciation, while psychologically soothing, can come with side effects — for example, harming export competitiveness or disincentivising diaspora remittances.

A Time for Humility, Not Hype

Ghana’s economic story is complex. The cedi’s behaviour is not an emotional teenager reacting to the Finance Minister’s tone of voice; it is a reflection of deep-rooted structural issues, geopolitical dynamics, and market sentiments.

If history teaches us anything, it is that premature jubilation often precedes disappointment. So, while we appreciate the short-term gains — and God knows we needed some good news — we must resist the urge to confuse symptom relief with full recovery.

Dr. Ato Forson may well prove to be one of Ghana’s most effective Finance Ministers. But let’s give him the space and time to actually do the work, not just benefit from a temporary upswing and social media applause.

As the saying goes, “When the rain drizzles in the dry season, don’t start planting your maize just yet.”

So to my fellow Ghanaians, breathe… but don’t break into azonto just yet. The economic battle isn’t won on the forex charts of May 2025. It’s fought — and won — in the policies, institutions, and choices that shape the months and years ahead.