Connect with us

Opinion

The Cocoa Conundrum: Why Ghana’s Farmers are Poor Despite Making the World’s Best Chocolate

Published

on

Ghana produces some of the world’s finest cocoa beans, yet the majority of its cocoa farmers remain trapped in poverty due to low farmgate prices, exploitative supply-chain structures, middlemen taking large margins, high input costs, climate change impacts, illegal mining (galamsey) destroying farms, and limited access to credit and modern farming techniques. This article by H. Aku Kwapong argues that while multinational chocolate companies earn billions from Ghanaian cocoa, farmers receive only a tiny fraction of the final retail value, calling for urgent reforms in pricing, local processing, cooperative models, and government intervention to ensure fairer wealth distribution along the cocoa value chain.


The cocoa conundrum: Why Ghana’s farmers are poor despite making the world’s best chocolate

Every so often, you come across an economic situation so perverse, so utterly divorced from basic market logic, that you have to wonder how it has survived for so long.

The case of Ghana’s cocoa sector is a textbook example. Here we have a country that produces some of the world’s finest cocoa—the essential ingredient for a multi-billion dollar global chocolate industry. Yet the smallholder farmers who are the bedrock of this industry remain trapped in extreme poverty, many earning less than a dollar a day. How can this be?

The answer, as is so often the case, lies in a toxic mix of well-intentioned but misguided policy, institutional sclerosis, and a fundamental misunderstanding of how markets actually work. For over seven decades, Ghana has operated a state-run monopoly, the Ghana Cocoa Board (COCOBOD), that controls every aspect of the industry from farm gate to export. The result is a classic case of monopsony power, a single buyer that can dictate prices to sellers. And when a single buyer dictates prices, the sellers inevitably get a raw deal.

When cocoa prices quadrupled on the world market in 2023-2025, reaching nearly $12,000 per metric ton, Ghanaian farmers should have seen a windfall. They didn’t. Because of COCOBOD’s byzantine system of forward contracts and price-fixing, they were locked into prices that bore no resemblance to market reality. The very system designed to protect them from volatility ended up shielding them from prosperity. It’s an economic tragedy, and it’s long past time to end it.

Ghana cocoa farmer. Trade for Development, via Flickr

This report is not an academic exercise. It is a call for a pragmatic, clear-eyed revolution in how Ghana manages its most important agricultural sector. It lays out a framework for dismantling a failed state monopoly and building a modern, competitive market in its place.

This isn’t about blind faith in laissez-faire economics—the history of commodity markets is littered with the victims of chaotic, unsupported liberalization. Instead, it’s about getting the institutions right, creating what I call a “meso-model” where a lean, effective government regulates a dynamic private sector. It’s about finally letting the market work for, not against, the people who make it possible.

1.The Economics of a Broken System
Let’s be clear about the diagnosis. Ghana’s cocoa problem isn’t a mystery; it’s a straightforward story of bad economics compounded by institutional inertia.

The current model, where COCOBOD acts as the sole buyer and seller of cocoa, is a relic of a bygone era of state-led development that most of the world has moved beyond. Its defenders will point to the premium quality of Ghanaian cocoa as justification for the system. And yes, the quality is good. But at what cost?

The Monopsony Trap
Here’s the fundamental problem: COCOBOD’s monopoly on purchasing cocoa from farmers means it faces no competition. Basic economics tells us what happens when a buyer has monopsony power – it can, and does, pay a price far below what a competitive market would deliver. Farmers in Ghana typically receive around 55% of the Free on Board (FOB) export price for their beans. Compare that to the 70-75% received by their counterparts in the more liberalized markets of Indonesia and Ecuador.

That 15-20 percentage point difference isn’t just a number on a spreadsheet. For a farming family, it’s the difference between a living income and grinding poverty. It’s the difference between being able to afford fertilizer and watching your trees succumb to disease. It’s the difference between sending your children to school and sending them to work in the fields.

And let’s be honest about what’s happening to that missing 40-45% of the export value. Some of it goes to legitimate costs – quality control, research, extension services. But a large chunk disappears into the maw of an inefficient, bloated bureaucracy that employs thousands of people and operates subsidiaries that would make a Soviet-era ministry proud.

The Illusion of Stability
The great promise of the COCOBOD system was price stability. By selling the crop forward on international markets, it was supposed to shield farmers from the notorious volatility of commodity prices. This sounds good in theory. In practice, it’s been a disaster.

The 2023-2025 price crisis exposed the fundamental flaw in this approach. When world cocoa prices exploded due to supply shortages in West Africa, the forward-selling system didn’t just fail to deliver the upside to farmers – it nearly bankrupted COCOBOD itself, which found itself on the wrong side of its own hedges. The institution recorded massive losses while farmers continued to receive their fixed, below-market prices.

This is the perverse logic of the current system: it privatizes the risks (which farmers bear through chronically low prices) and socializes the losses (which the state, and ultimately the taxpayer, has to cover). It’s heads the middlemen win, tails the farmers lose.

The Stagnation Effect
When you insulate an entire industry from market signals, you get stagnation. There is no incentive for innovation, no drive for efficiency, no pressure to improve. Why should a private company invest in better logistics or processing facilities if it can’t compete on price? Why should a farmer invest in higher quality beans or replant aging trees if they get paid the same as everyone else regardless of quality?

The result is an industry operating far below its potential. Production has collapsed from over 1 million tonnes in 2010/11 to just 654,000 tonnes in 2023 – a 14-year low. The tree stock is aging, with an estimated 40% of cocoa trees past their productive prime. The farming population itself is aging, with an average age over 50, as young people flee for better opportunities, including the destructive illegal gold mining (‘galamsey’) that is eating away at cocoa farmland.

This is what happens when you try to run an agricultural sector like a command economy. You get all the inefficiency of central planning with none of the dynamism of a market.

So the argument that we must choose between the chaos of a fully free market and the stagnation of a state monopoly is a false dichotomy. The real task is to design a system that combines the dynamism of competition with the stability of smart regulation. That’s what I mean by a “meso-model,” and that’s what the rest of this report is about.

2.Learning from Others: The Liberalization Spectrum
Before we dive into the specifics of reform, it’s worth looking at what has happened in other cocoa-producing countries that have experimented with different models. The evidence is actually quite instructive.

The Cautionary Tale of Full Liberalization
Nigeria liberalized its cocoa market in 1986, dismantling its marketing board and letting the market rip. The results were mixed at best. On the positive side, competition increased, more private traders entered the market, and farmers gained more options for selling their cocoa. Production initially increased as farmers responded to better price signals.

But there was a dark side. The abolition of the marketing board led to a collapse in quality control and extension services. Nigerian cocoa, once renowned for its quality, saw its reputation deteriorate as beans of varying quality flooded the market. Farmers lost access to credit and inputs that the marketing board had previously provided. And the market became dominated by a handful of large export firms, which used their oligopsony power to squeeze farmers.

The lesson here is clear: simply smashing the state monopoly and walking away is not a recipe for success. Markets need institutions to function properly.

The Ivorian Alternative
Côte d’Ivoire, the world’s largest cocoa producer, offers a more promising model. After its own chaotic liberalization in the 1990s, the country established a hybrid system built around the Conseil du Café-Cacao (CCC), a regulatory body that works in partnership with the private sector.

Here’s how it works: The CCC sets a guaranteed minimum price for farmers at the beginning of each season, providing a safety net against price crashes. But it also licenses private companies to compete in buying and exporting cocoa. These companies can offer bonuses above the minimum price for higher quality beans or faster payment. The result is a system that provides both stability and competition.

The Ivorian model isn’t perfect – it still involves significant state intervention, and there are concerns about corruption and the fiscal costs of the price guarantee. But it has managed to maintain quality standards while allowing for private sector dynamism. Production has grown steadily, and farmers receive a higher share of the export price than their Ghanaian counterparts.

What Ghana Can Learn
The lesson from this comparative analysis is straightforward: Ghana needs to move away from its current fully regulated model, but it should not leap to full liberalization. The optimal path is a middle ground – a “meso-model” that retains essential state functions (regulation, quality control, research) while introducing competition in commercial activities (buying, processing, exporting).

This is not a radical idea. It’s basically what most successful agricultural sectors around the world do. The government sets the rules and provides public goods; the private sector competes to deliver services and create value. It’s time Ghana joined the 21st century.

3.The Reform Framework: Eight Pillars for a New Dawn
So what does a sensible reform program look like? It rests on eight interconnected pillars, each addressing a specific dysfunction in the current system. Let me walk through them.

Pillar 1: Transforming COCOBOD from Monopolist to Regulator
The first and most critical step is to fundamentally restructure COCOBOD. The institution needs to go on a serious diet, shedding its commercial functions and focusing on the essential public goods that only government can provide.

What COCOBOD Should Keep:

•Quality Control: This is a genuine public good and a crucial national asset. Ghana’s reputation for premium cocoa is worth protecting, and a centralized quality control system is the best way to do it. The Quality Control Company (QCC) should remain under COCOBOD’s umbrella, ensuring that all exported cocoa meets high standards.


•Research and Development: The Cocoa Research Institute of Ghana (CRIG) has done valuable work developing high-yielding, disease-resistant varieties. This is exactly the kind of basic research that the private sector tends to under-invest in. CRIG should continue to receive public funding and should be encouraged to partner with universities and international research institutions.

•Regulation: Someone needs to set the rules for a competitive market – licensing buyers and exporters, monitoring for anti-competitive behavior, ensuring traceability and compliance with international standards. This is a core government function.

What COCOBOD Should Lose:

•Internal Marketing: The business of buying cocoa from farmers should be opened to competition among Licensed Buying Companies (LBCs), farmer cooperatives, and processing companies. Let them compete on price, payment terms, and services. The farmers will benefit.


•Input Supply: The procurement and distribution of fertilizers and pesticides should be handled by private agro-dealers. The current system of heavily subsidized inputs distributed through COCOBOD is costly, inefficient, and subject to political manipulation. A competitive market for inputs, perhaps supported by targeted vouchers for the poorest farmers, would work better.


•Export Marketing: The Cocoa Marketing Company (CMC), which currently has a monopoly on exports, should either be privatized or forced to compete with other licensed exporters. This would allow for more innovative marketing arrangements and better price discovery.

This transformation will not be easy. It will require significant downsizing and restructuring. COCOBOD currently employs thousands of people; a lean regulatory body would need far fewer. A comprehensive staff rationalization plan, including voluntary retirement schemes and retraining programs, will be essential. But the alternative is the slow-motion collapse of the entire institution, which helps no one.

Pillar 2: Creating Space for Private Enterprise
Once COCOBOD gets out of the way, private companies can step in to compete across the value chain. But they won’t do so unless the government creates an enabling environment. This means three things:

Regulatory Certainty: Investors need to know that the rules won’t change overnight. A clear, transparent, and stable regulatory framework is essential. This includes straightforward licensing procedures, well-defined quality standards, and consistent enforcement.

Infrastructure: You can’t build a competitive industry on crumbling roads and unreliable electricity. The government needs to invest in the basics – farm-to-market roads, port facilities, warehousing, and above all, reliable and affordable power. The fact that electricity costs in Ghana are nearly double those in Côte d’Ivoire is a major barrier to developing a domestic processing industry.

Targeted Incentives: To encourage investment in value addition – turning raw beans into cocoa liquor, butter, powder, and finished chocolate – the government should offer tax holidays, reduced import duties on processing equipment, and perhaps subsidized electricity for processing facilities. The goal is to move Ghana up the value chain, capturing more of the value that currently goes to processors in Europe and Asia.

The potential here is enormous. Ghana currently processes only about 23% of its cocoa production domestically, and existing facilities operate at less than 50% capacity. With the right policies, Ghana could become a major exporter of processed cocoa products and even build globally recognized chocolate brands. Companies like Fairafric are already showing what’s possible.

Pillar 3: Fixing the Price Mechanism
The current pricing system is, to put it bluntly, a joke. It’s opaque, it’s rigid, and it systematically underpays farmers. The Producer Price Review Committee (PPRC) sets a fixed price at the beginning of each season based on projections that often turn out to be wildly wrong. Farmers have no idea how the price is calculated, and they have no recourse if they think it’s unfair.

This needs to be replaced with a transparent, market-based system. There are several options:

Auction System: Cocoa could be sold through regular auctions where buyers bid competitively for lots. This ensures transparent price discovery and allows farmers to benefit directly from market prices. Ethiopia’s commodity exchange provides a successful model.

Commodity Exchange: The proposed Africa Commodity Exchange (AfCX) could provide a pan-African platform for trading cocoa, with prices determined by supply and demand.

Direct Contracts: Farmers and cooperatives could negotiate direct contracts with buyers, allowing for differentiated pricing based on quality, volume, and delivery terms.

Hybrid Model: My preferred option is a hybrid approach that combines a guaranteed minimum price (a floor) with market-based pricing above that level. This is similar to Côte d’Ivoire’s model. The floor provides security against price crashes, but farmers can earn more if they produce higher quality beans or if market conditions are favorable.

The key principle is simple: farmers should receive at least 70% of the FOB export price. This isn’t charity; it’s basic market efficiency. Farmers who are paid a fair price will invest in their farms, leading to higher production and better quality. Everyone wins.

Of course, a market-based system means price volatility. But there are sensible ways to manage this risk. A price stabilization fund can smooth out fluctuations by saving money in good years to support prices in bad years. Crop insurance can protect farmers from severe price drops. And over time, as farmers and cooperatives gain experience, they can use financial instruments like futures contracts to hedge their own risk.

Pillar 4: Building a Real Processing Industry
Here’s a shocking fact: Ghana captures only about 6.6% of the total value of its cocoa production. The rest – the vast majority—is captured by processors and manufacturers in

Europe, North America, and Asia. This is economic madness. Ghana is exporting raw materials and importing finished products, exactly the colonial pattern that developing countries are supposed to have moved beyond.

The solution is to dramatically expand domestic processing capacity. Ghana already has several major processing facilities, but they operate at less than 50% capacity because they can’t get enough beans. In the current system, COCOBOD’s forward sales contracts commit most of the crop to international buyers, leaving domestic processors scrambling for supply.

In a liberalized market, processors would be able to source beans directly from farmers. But during the transition, the government should guarantee that a certain percentage of production, say, 30-40%, is reserved for domestic processors at competitive prices. This would ensure that processors can operate at full capacity.

The barriers to processing are well-known: high energy costs, limited access to finance, and a shortage of skilled workers. Each of these can be addressed with targeted policies:

•Energy subsidies for processing facilities to offset Ghana’s high electricity costs.
•Tax incentives, including corporate tax holidays and duty-free imports of processing equipment.
•Dedicated financing facilities, perhaps through a Cocoa Development Bank, to provide long-term, affordable credit.
•Skills development programs in partnership with technical universities and international training institutions.

Beyond semi-processed products, Ghana should aim to build its own chocolate manufacturing industry and develop globally recognized Ghanaian chocolate brands. The market for premium, single-origin, ethically sourced chocolate is growing rapidly. Ghanaian brands can capitalize on the country’s reputation for quality, its sustainability credentials, and its unique cultural heritage. With the right support, “Made in Ghana” chocolate could become a premium product on the world market.

Pillar 5: Empowering Farmers Through Cooperatives and Land Reform
Individual smallholder farmers have essentially no bargaining power when facing large buyers. This is why strong, well-organized farmer cooperatives are essential. Cooperatives can negotiate collectively, secure better prices, access credit, and provide services to their members.

Ghana has a history of farmer cooperatives, including the well-known Kuapa Kokoo, a Fairtrade cooperative with over 100,000 members. But many cooperatives suffer from weak governance, poor financial management, and limited capacity. They need support, training in governance and financial management, access to credit, and a clear legal framework that protects their rights.

In a liberalized market, cooperatives should be able to negotiate directly with buyers and processors on behalf of their members. This collective bargaining power is the best defense against exploitation.

But there’s an even more fundamental issue: land tenure. Many cocoa farmers in Ghana don’t have secure title to the land they farm. Under the traditional Customary Land Tenure System, they have only usufruct rights – the right to use the land but not to own it. This creates a massive disincentive to long-term investment.

Why would you cut down old, unproductive trees and replant if you’re not sure you’ll still have the land in five years when the new trees start producing? Why would you invest in soil improvement or irrigation if you could lose the land at any time? And without formal title, you can’t use your land as collateral for a loan.

This is a politically sensitive issue, involving traditional authorities and complex customary law. But it must be addressed. Options include formalizing long-term leases, providing legal protections for farmers who replant, and gradually introducing formal land titling in cocoa- growing regions. Women farmers, who often have even more insecure land rights than men, need special attention.

Pillar 6: Leveraging Technology
We live in the 21st century, but much of Ghana’s cocoa sector operates as if it’s still the 20th. Technology can change this, and it doesn’t require massive investments in fancy equipment. Simple, accessible technologies can make a huge difference.

Mobile Payments: Ghana already has widespread mobile money platforms like MTN Mobile Money. Extending these to cocoa payments would mean farmers get paid immediately upon delivery, with a digital record that reduces disputes and fraud. It would also give farmers access to savings and credit products linked to their mobile wallets.

Digital Extension Services: Mobile apps and SMS platforms can deliver timely advice on weather, pest control, best practices, and market prices. The Cocoa Link program has already demonstrated the potential of this approach.

Traceability Systems: The EU Deforestation Regulation now requires full traceability of cocoa imports. Digital systems using GPS mapping and mobile data collection can help Ghanaian farmers comply with these requirements and access premium markets. This isn’t optional anymore; it’s a necessity.

And here’s the thing: attracting young people back to cocoa farming requires making it less of a backbreaking, low-tech drudgery and more of a modern, tech-enabled business. Higher incomes are part of the answer, but so is modernization.

Pillar 7: Building the Regulatory Architecture
A liberalized market needs a strong regulatory framework. The current system, where COCOBOD is both player and referee, is fundamentally flawed. Ghana needs an independent Cocoa Regulatory Authority (CRA) that is separate from COCOBOD and reports to Parliament rather than to a government ministry.

The CRA’s job would be to:

•License buyers, processors, and exporters.
•Set and enforce quality standards.
•Monitor the market for anti-competitive behavior.
•Resolve disputes between farmers and buyers.
•Oversee traceability and compliance with international regulations.

Ghana also needs to strengthen its competition law and apply it rigorously to the cocoa sector to prevent price-fixing and market manipulation. And it needs a clear legal framework for contracts, with fast-track arbitration and mediation services for disputes.

The goal is to create a level playing field where companies compete on efficiency and service, not on political connections or market manipulation.

Pillar 8: Financing the Transition
For decades, Ghana’s cocoa sector has been financed through an annual syndicated loan arranged by COCOBOD, typically in the range of $1.5-2 billion. This model is no longer sustainable. The cost of the loan has risen sharply, and COCOBOD has struggled to service its debt.

A liberalized sector needs a diversified financing ecosystem:

•Commercial bank lending to LBCs, processors, and farmer cooperatives.
•Warehouse receipt financing, which allows farmers to use stored cocoa as collateral for loans.
•Supply chain finance, where buyers provide advance payments to farmers in exchange for guaranteed supply.
•Microfinance and impact investing for small farmers and businesses.
•A Cocoa Development Bank to provide long-term, affordable credit for the sector.

The Ghana Stock Exchange could also play a role, with large processors and LBCs listing to raise equity capital, and cocoa-backed bonds to finance infrastructure.

The key is to move away from the current model where the entire sector depends on a single, increasingly expensive loan, and toward a system where financing flows from multiple sources based on commercial viability.

4.The Politics of Reform: Why This Is Hard (But Necessary)
Let me be blunt: the economics of cocoa reform are straightforward. The path to a more prosperous and competitive sector is clear. The real challenge, as always, is politics.

Any serious reform will threaten entrenched interests that benefit from the current system. COCOBOD employs thousands of people, many of whom will resist downsizing. The current system creates opportunities for rent-seeking and corruption that will be harder to maintain in a competitive market. And there’s a genuine, if misguided, ideological attachment to the idea of state control among some policymakers.

There will be resistance. There will be scare stories about how liberalization will lead to chaos and exploitation. There will be warnings that Ghana will lose its quality premium. These arguments need to be confronted head-on with evidence and clear communication.

This is why the transition must be carefully managed, with a clear roadmap, strong governance, and constant engagement with all stakeholders. A “big bang” approach is likely to fail, as Nigeria’s experience shows. A phased, 5-10 year transition, with clear milestones and measurable targets, is the only realistic way forward.

Phase 1 (Years 1-2): Establish the legal framework, launch pilot programs in selected regions, begin COCOBOD restructuring.

Phase 2 (Years 3-5): Roll out liberalized internal marketing nationwide, operationalize the CRA, introduce market-linked pricing, implement processing incentives.

Phase 3 (Years 6-10): Complete export liberalization, finish COCOBOD transformation, achieve 70% farmer share target, reach 40% domestic processing target.

Success will require political courage and long-term vision. It will require resisting the temptation to backslide when things get difficult. And it will require constant monitoring and adjustment, because no reform plan survives first contact with reality unchanged.

But the alternative is to continue presiding over a system that is failing its farmers, failing the nation, and slowly collapsing under the weight of its own contradictions. The choice is stark, but it is also clear.

5.Conclusion: The Case for Optimism
I am, by temperament and training, a skeptic. I’ve seen too many grand reform plans fail, too many well-intentioned policies produce perverse outcomes. But I’m also an economist, and I believe that when you get the incentives right, when you build the right institutions, good things can happen.

Ghana’s cocoa sector is broken, but it’s not beyond repair. The country has enormous advantages: a reputation for quality, a large and experienced farming population, existing

processing infrastructure, and a strategic location. What it lacks is a sensible institutional framework that allows these advantages to be fully realized.

The reform framework laid out in this report is not utopian. It’s pragmatic, evidence-based, and grounded in the real-world experiences of other countries. It doesn’t require Ghana to become something it’s not; it requires Ghana to become a better version of itself.

If implemented with determination and skill, these reforms could transform Ghana’s cocoa sector from a struggling commodity exporter into a globally competitive industrial powerhouse. Farmers could earn a decent living. Young people could see a future in agriculture. Ghana could capture more of the value from its most important export crop.

This is not just about cocoa. It’s about whether Ghana can build the kind of modern, market- based institutions that are essential for sustained economic development. It’s about whether the country can move beyond the legacy of colonialism and state-led development to create a system that works for its people.

The time for a new dawn for Ghana’s cocoa is now. The question is whether Ghana’s leaders are ready to seize it.


By: H. Aku Kwapong Hene Aku Kwapong can be reached on oak@songhai.com.  He is a founder of The Songhai Group and NBOSI (National Blue Ocean Strategy Institute). He formerly worked with GE Capital, Deutsche Bank and Royal Bank of Scotland and had been a Senior Vice President at the New York City Economic Development Corporation.


Continue Reading
Click to comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Opinion

The Sahel is Burning, and West Africa Cannot Look Away

Published

on

JNIM now strikes at capitals and governs territory, and the bet that Mali, Burkina Faso, and Niger placed on Russia as their sole security guarantor has failed. Analyst and researcher Joseph McCarthy writes that the fire will not stop at the Sahel’s borders, and Ghana stands directly in its path.


The Sahel is Burning, and West Africa Cannot Look Away

By Joseph McCarthy

At dawn on 18 June 2026, fighters stormed Diori Hamani International Airport in Niamey, the most heavily guarded site in Niger’s capital. It is not merely an airport. The complex houses the air force, most of the country’s drones, the headquarters of the Alliance of Sahel States’ joint force, the Russian personnel meant to help crush the insurgency, and even uranium stocks the state hopes to sell. JNIM claimed the assault, which killed eleven soldiers and two civilians. It was the second strike on that complex this year; the Islamic State’s Sahel Province claimed a January raid. Both of the region’s jihadist franchises have now breached the defences of a capital. This was not just another attack. It was a strategic signal.

It was also no act of opportunism. Hitting a fortified installation in a capital demands months of surveillance, intelligence on shift changes, the logistics to move fighters and weapons over long distances, and the ability to slip past layered security. It implies networks operating close to, or inside, the capital itself. As the Armed Conflict Location and Event Data project noted, the Sahel’s insurgents have moved from localised rural fighting to coordinated strikes on vital national infrastructure. The pattern is everywhere. In Mali, JNIM has throttled Bamako with a fuel blockade since September 2025, destroying hundreds of tankers; in April, it overran the garrison town of Kati and killed the defence minister in his own home; it has since placed a bounty of two million euros on the head of Mali’s junta leader, Assimi Goïta.

More troubling than the firepower is the governance. A Reuters investigation found that JNIM now arbitrates land disputes, collects taxes, enforces rules and imposes a rough order in territories the state has vacated. Forged from the merger of four groups, it increasingly presents itself not as a militia but as an alternative authority, building legitimacy among populations long neglected by distant governments. History is unkind here: from Afghanistan to Somalia, insurgencies that learn to govern outlast those that only fight. The contest is no longer simply about defeating armed men. It is about whether the state, rather than an armed movement, remains the most credible source of authority, justice and security.

Against all this, the juntas made a bet. Mali, Burkina Faso and Niger expelled Western forces, walked out of ECOWAS, and rebuilt their security around a single guarantor: Russia, first through the Wagner Group, then the Africa Corps. On 26 June, Burkina Faso severed diplomatic relations with France entirely, accusing Paris of backing the very terrorists it claims to fight, an allegation offered without evidence and flatly rejected. Niger’s government, for its part, blamed the Niamey attack on mercenaries funded by President Macron, again without proof. The promise was straightforward: sovereignty restored, foreign influence reduced, terrorism defeated. Judged by the junta’s own promise, the bet has failed. The violence has not receded. It has spread.

This should not be read as a uniquely Russian failure. It exposes the limits of any strategy built around a single external guarantor. No partner, whether Russia, France or the United States, can resolve a conflict rooted in governance failure, economic exclusion, local grievance and hollow institutions. Force can kill fighters. It cannot rebuild public trust, settle a quarrel between communities, open a clinic or create a job for an idle young man, and those are the very conditions the insurgents harvest for recruits. Russia carries constraints of its own: bogged down in Ukraine, its resources finite, it was outfought alongside Malian troops at Kidal even after reportedly receiving a warning of the assault. A security architecture resting on a single distracted partner does not reduce risk; it concentrates it, and when that partner underdelivers, there is no second line. The 2026 Global Terrorism Index now names the Sahel the global epicentre of terrorism, the source of more than half the world’s terrorism deaths and one in five of its attacks.

None of this stays in the Sahel. Ghana shares roughly 550 kilometres of frontier with Burkina Faso, much of it porous and threaded with informal crossings used daily by traders and herders. Southward expansion rarely begins with a spectacular attack. It begins quietly: a recruiter, a supply route, a financing cell, fighters embedding in border communities long before a shot is fired. That is precisely how the contagion crossed from Mali into Burkina Faso and Niger, and how it has already reached Benin and Togo, with Côte d’Ivoire and northern Ghana plainly exposed. Alongside the fighters’ travels, something almost as corrosive: a flood of assault rifles, explosives and military hardware that does not stop at extremist hands but arms robbers, traffickers and illegal mining syndicates, hollowing out a country’s security long before any jihadist banner appears.

The wider world has its own reasons to watch. Niger holds some of the planet’s richest uranium. A jihadist proto-state straddling West Africa would command migration routes toward the coast and the Mediterranean, strain fragile coastal economies, disrupt trade corridors and rattle investor confidence. At the same time, every successful strike on a capital broadcasts a template to armed groups from Nigeria to Mozambique. What looks today like a regional security crisis could become an international one. A region generating one in five of the world’s militant attacks is not a distant problem. It is a lit fuse.

Africa has paid before for believing that outside powers can guarantee its security. They cannot. Partners can offer intelligence, training and equipment; they cannot substitute for legitimate governance and functioning institutions. This crisis will be settled not only on the battlefield but in courtrooms, classrooms, local councils and marketplaces, where citizens decide whether the state or an armed movement better delivers justice and opportunity. For Ghana, the task is preventive, not reactive: intelligence cooperation, stronger borders, regional collaboration, community resilience and investment in local governance, all of it far cheaper than containment once the violence has taken root. And for the Sahel’s rulers, there is a harder truth.

Sovereignty that trades several partners for total dependence on one distant and overstretched power is not sovereignty; it is a fresh vulnerability dressed in the language of liberation. The question is no longer whether the crisis will spread beyond Mali, Burkina Faso and Niger. It already has. The only question left is whether West Africa acts before the Sahel becomes the world’s next strategic emergency.

Joseph McCarthy is an analyst and researcher specialising in governance, security, and political transitions in the Sahel. He writes on geopolitics, development, and African diplomacy. Email: joecarthy30@gmail.com

Continue Reading

Opinion

Under One African Sky: Xenophobia, Historical Memory, and the Erosion of Pan-African Brotherhood | Colonel Augustine Ansu Rtd

Published

on

The recurring outbreak of xenophobic violence in South Africa has once again forced a painful question upon the continent: Has Africa forgotten its own history of solidarity?

In this opinion piece, Colonel Augustine Ansu (Rtd) examines the troubling narratives used to justify attacks on fellow Africans — from complaints about jobs and businesses to the claim that anti-apartheid exiles were not granted unrestricted integration. He argues that such arguments rest on a historically flawed understanding of continental sacrifice. Drawing on the legacy of nations like Ghana, Zambia, Tanzania, and Angola that provided sanctuary and support to South Africa’s liberation struggle, Ansu asks whether the spirit of Pan-African brotherhood can survive economic anxiety, political rhetoric, and the erosion of historical memory.

This is a call not merely to condemn xenophobia, but to recover the solidarity that once made strangers into comrades.

Read the full opinion piece below.

Under One African Sky: Xenophobia, Historical Memory, and the Erosion of Pan-African Brotherhood

By Colonel Augustine Ansu Rtd

The recurring outbreaks of xenophobic violence in South Africa continue to trouble the conscience of Africa.

Each episode raises difficult questions about citizenship, economic competition, national identity, and the future of Pan-African solidarity.

Recent events, including the evacuation of foreign nationals and the debates that have followed, have once again brought these issues into sharp focus.

What is perhaps most disturbing is not merely the violence itself, but the narratives increasingly used to justify it.

In a recent media interview, a South African citizen reportedly questioned why foreigners should be allowed to settle so freely in South Africa.

He argued that during the anti-apartheid struggle, South African exiles lived in camps in neighbouring countries and were not permitted unrestricted integration into host societies.

He further complained that foreigners were taking jobs, businesses, and even girlfriends from South Africans.

This is a photo of the South African officers Ghana trained for their independence in 1994. One of them in later years became a CDS and visited Ghana

Such arguments deserve careful examination.

The comparison between anti-apartheid exiles and present-day African migrants is historically flawed.

South Africans who fled apartheid were not merely housed in refugee camps. Across the continent, they benefited from the generosity and sacrifice of fellow Africans.

Nations such as Ghana, Zambia, Tanzania, Angola, and many others provided sanctuary, education, military training, diplomatic support, and political platforms from which the struggle against apartheid could be waged.

African governments and peoples embraced the South African cause as a continental cause. Their support was not based upon narrow calculations of national advantage but upon a profound belief that the freedom of one African people was inseparable from the freedom of all.

That history makes contemporary hostility towards fellow Africans especially painful.

Equally revealing is the complaint that foreigners are taking local girlfriends. Such rhetoric has little to do with immigration policy and much to do with insecurity, resentment, and the search for convenient scapegoats.

Throughout history, xenophobic movements have often been fuelled by claims that outsiders are taking what rightfully belongs to citizens—jobs, opportunities, homes, culture, and relationships.

These narratives are powerful because they simplify complex social problems into emotionally satisfying explanations. Yet they rarely lead to solutions.

The roots of social unrest are usually found elsewhere: unemployment, poverty, inequality, corruption, inadequate education, weak governance, and the failure of economic growth to improve the lives of ordinary citizens. When these problems persist, public frustration seeks an outlet. Foreigners become convenient targets because they are visible, vulnerable, and politically expendable.

Yet many immigrants contribute significantly to the South African economy. They establish businesses, create employment, provide essential services, and participate in commercial activities that sustain local communities. Like migrants throughout history, they seek opportunity, security, and a better future for their families.

Against this backdrop, the decision by some African governments to evacuate their citizens deserves thoughtful consideration.

Every government has a sacred duty to protect its nationals. When there is credible concern for their safety, prudence demands action.

Governments cannot wait for tragedy to occur before responding. Their first responsibility is not the preservation of diplomatic appearances but the protection of human life.

This explains why many Africans have viewed suggestions that governments should have delayed evacuation efforts with understandable scepticism.

While such opinions may stem from concerns about national image or fears of creating panic, they must be weighed against the immediate responsibility to safeguard citizens facing uncertainty and possible danger.

Equally troubling are reports that xenophobic attacks sometimes occur in the presence of law enforcement officers who appear unable or unwilling to intervene decisively.

Whether such perceptions are entirely accurate or not, they contribute significantly to fear among foreign communities.

When perpetrators believe that consequences are unlikely, violence becomes easier to organise and repeat.

Some observers have suggested that these developments reflect a broader political agenda. Others see them as spontaneous eruptions of public frustration. Whatever the explanation, history demonstrates that xenophobia seldom emerges in isolation. It thrives where economic anxiety, political rhetoric, weak institutions, and social frustration converge.

The tragedy extends beyond immigration policy.

It concerns the future of Pan-Africanism itself.

The generation that fought apartheid inspired the world with its vision of justice, reconciliation, human dignity, and non-racialism.

South Africa became a symbol of hope, proving that even the deepest divisions could be overcome through courage, sacrifice, and leadership.

Today, many Africans struggle to reconcile that inspiring legacy with recurring images of fellow Africans being harassed, assaulted, or forced to flee.

They remember a time when the continent stood united against apartheid and wonder how the descendants of those who benefited from continental solidarity can now regard fellow Africans as unwelcome intruders.

These are uncomfortable questions, but they cannot be ignored.

Can Africans continue to speak of continental unity while fellow Africans are treated as outsiders?

Can the sacrifices made during the liberation struggles be honoured while the spirit of brotherhood that sustained those struggles is gradually eroded?

Can Pan-Africanism survive if economic hardship repeatedly transforms neighbours into enemies?

History offers a sobering lesson. Nations rarely prosper by directing their anger towards convenient scapegoats. Sustainable progress is achieved through economic reform, effective governance, educational opportunity, social cohesion, and unwavering commitment to the rule of law.

The future of Africa will not be secured through exclusion and suspicion. It will be secured through cooperation, mutual respect, and a renewed recognition of our shared destiny.

For the struggle against colonialism and apartheid was never simply a political struggle. It was also a moral declaration that the dignity of one African is bound to the dignity of all Africans.

That declaration remains as relevant today as it was yesterday.

Epilogue: Under One African Sky

The African sky knows no borders.

The winds that cross the Limpopo do not carry passports; the rivers that flow to the sea recognize no tribe. The rains that nourish the veld, the savannah, and the forest make no distinction between native and stranger.

Yet man, who inherited one continent and one destiny, has learned to build walls where history built bridges and to sow suspicion where our forebears planted solidarity.

The challenge before Africa is therefore not merely to defeat xenophobia. It is to recover the brotherhood that once made strangers into comrades and neighbours into family.

For when one African is hunted because he is foreign, all Africa is diminished. When one African is denied dignity because of his origin, the dream of Pan-Africanism suffers a wound. And when fear triumphs over fraternity, the sacrifices of those who fought for Africa’s liberation fade a little further into the shadows.

Let us remember that before colonial frontiers were drawn, before passports were stamped, before flags were raised, the peoples of Africa shared the same sun, the same rivers, the same hopes, and often the same blood.

May wisdom prevail over anger, justice over prejudice, and fraternity over fear.

Then perhaps future generations will inherit an Africa in which no man is hated for the place of his birth, no woman is threatened because of her nationality, and no child grows up believing that another African is an enemy.

For above us all stretches the same vast African sky — silent, enduring, and waiting for its children to remember that they are one.

Continue Reading

Opinion

Sahel on fire: Why Ghana and ECOWAS cannot ignore the collapse of the AES

Published

on

When military juntas seized power in Mali, Burkina Faso, and Niger between 2020 and 2023, they promised sovereignty, security, and national dignity. Several years on, the evidence tells a brutal story. Large portions of the Sahel remain outside state control, with jihadist groups like JNIM and Islamic State affiliates growing more sophisticated and operationally bolder. In this urgent analysis, security researcher Joseph McCarthy argues that West Africa’s future stability depends on rebuilding states that citizens trust, economies that create opportunity, and regionally coordinated security architecture, because the Sahel’s collapse cannot be treated as someone else’s problem.

Read the full analysis below:

Sahel on fire: Why Ghana and ECOWAS cannot ignore the collapse of the AES

When soldiers seized power in Bamako in 2020, Ouagadougou in 2022, and Niamey in 2023, they offered a familiar promise: civilian governments had failed, foreign partnerships had grown corrupt, and only military rule could restore sovereignty, security, and national dignity.

Across the Sahel, millions exhausted by years of insecurity and perceived foreign condescension believed them.

Several years on, the evidence tells a brutal and irrefutable story.

The security situation across Mali, Burkina Faso, and Niger, the three countries that form the self-styled Alliance of Sahel States (AES), now reveals something the juntas can no longer paper over with slogans.

Large portions of northern and eastern Burkina Faso are either under jihadist influence or violently contested.

In Mali, the regions of Taoudéni, Timbuktu, Ménaka, Gao, and much of Mopti remain outside effective state authority.

Niger retains a stronger foothold around Niamey and Maradi, but insecurity is steadily creeping into Diffa, Tahoua, and Agadez.

The trajectory across all three countries is identical: state presence is shrinking; militant mobility corridors are expanding southward.

The April 2026 coordinated attacks across Mali, striking Mopti, Gao, Kidal, Sévaré, and approach routes to Bamako simultaneously, confirmed what conflict monitors at ACLED and the Critical Threats Project had been documenting for months. Jama’at Nusrat al-Islam wal-Muslimin (JNIM) and Islamic State affiliates are not retreating.

They are growing more sophisticated, more coordinated, and operationally bolder.

When insurgents can strike urban and semi-urban centres, spaces that house military headquarters, administrative institutions, and strategic infrastructure, with precision and impunity, military presence alone has clearly ceased to guarantee territorial control.
The core problem is structural.

Terrorism in the Sahel has never been purely a military challenge.

Extremist organisations thrive where governance collapses, public trust erodes, and economic opportunities evaporate.

Governments may announce the destruction of militant camps or the recapture of towns.

But if corruption, unemployment, food insecurity, and local grievances go unresolved, recruitment resumes elsewhere.

The cycle continues.

Military-led governments are structurally ill-equipped to break that cycle.

Officers trained for battlefield command are now expected to manage fragile economies, attract investment, regulate inflation, and deliver social services.

Predictably, all three juntas have addressed profoundly complex national crises almost entirely through a security lens.

The consequences are visible: authority in Burkina Faso barely extends beyond Ouagadougou and a few southern towns; Bamako’s security perimeter has reportedly contracted; central Mali remains an unresolved warzone.

Meanwhile, judicial independence weakens, civil society operates under pressure, media freedoms narrow, and decision-making grows opaque and personalised. Investor confidence has collapsed. Trade routes have frayed.

The result is a self-reinforcing cycle: insecurity discourages investment, weak development fuels grievance, grievance powers recruitment, and governments respond with yet more militarisation.

The junta compounded this failure with a catastrophic strategic miscalculation: they dismantled every cooperative framework that had previously helped contain extremist expansion. MINUSMA was expelled.

French military operations ended. American intelligence and surveillance assets withdrew.

EU training missions deteriorated or closed. ECOWAS security cooperation collapsed.

In their place came Russian-linked security actors, first the Wagner Group, then the Africa Corps. This shift has not produced decisive results.

Western and multilateral partners had provided drone surveillance, aerial logistics, rapid evacuation support, command training, and multinational operational coordination.

Russia’s deployment has remained narrower, more militarised, and heavily oriented around regime protection rather than population security.
The fall of Kidal said everything.

Once showcased as proof that expelling Western forces and embracing Moscow represented strategic genius, Kidal instead exposed the new model’s core vulnerability.

When Russian-linked personnel reportedly withdrew as Malian forces came under attack, it shattered years of carefully cultivated political messaging.

Facts eventually overpower slogans, and those facts are now arriving at a pace.

The consequences no longer stop at the AES border.

The Sahel has become a sanctuary where extremist organisations regroup, recruit, train, and launch operations southward into coastal West Africa. Benin has already suffered deadly attacks near Pendjari National Park.

Côte d’Ivoire endured the Grand-Bassam massacre and continues fortifying its northern frontier.

Togo has seen infiltration pressure mount. Ghana, which has not yet experienced large-scale jihadist violence, is not insulated from what is coming.

The expansion of JNIM and IS-affiliated operations into southern Burkina Faso has intensified arms trafficking, infiltration networks, and radicalisation risks along Ghana’s northern border.

The Bawku conflict, rooted in ethnic and chieftaincy tensions, presents precisely the kind of local instability that extremist organisations have exploited elsewhere to gain a foothold.

Ghanaian security agencies have responded with Operation Conquered Fist, expanded border surveillance, joint intelligence operations, and counter-extremism programmes, all reflecting a growing, sober recognition that this crisis is no longer distant. It is at the door.

The lesson the Sahel has taught, at enormous human cost, is clear: no country defeats a transnational insurgency through isolationist nationalism or militarised governance alone. Security and development are inseparable.

Roads, schools, healthcare, agriculture, jobs, and functioning local governance are as essential to counterterrorism as soldiers and weapons. Where states are absent, extremists fill the space.

West Africa’s future security architecture must be African-led, regionally coordinated, and built on genuine interoperability: shared intelligence, joint border operations, and integrated economic resilience.

External partnerships have a role, but one that strengthens African institutional capacity rather than substituting for it.

Sustainable security cannot be outsourced to mercenaries or purchased through battlefield operations alone.

Ghana and the wider ECOWAS community cannot afford to treat the Sahel as someone else’s problem.

The region’s long-term stability will depend on building states that citizens trust, economies that create opportunity, and institutions capable of collective action.

The AES experience has shown, at devastating cost, what happens when those foundations are abandoned.

West Africa cannot afford to learn that lesson twice.


About the author:

Joseph McCarthy is an analyst and researcher specialising in governance, security, and political transitions in the Sahel. He writes on geopolitics, development, and African diplomacy. Email: joecarthy30@gmail.com

Continue Reading

Trending