By Kofi Sasraku A few days after taking my Norwegian friend to the old Polo Grounds — the birthplace of our independence — I found myself replaying the scene in my mind. Not the fireworks of 1957, not the famous declaration, but something quieter: the feeling that the moment had given us

By Kofi Sasraku Earlier this year, a friend of mine from Norway visited Ghana for the first time. He had heard the usual things people abroad hear, the hospitality, the food, the music, but he wanted to understand the country beyond the headlines and travel guides. So I took him

By Kofi Sasraku I was sitting outside The Republic Bar in Osu one evening, nursing a house concoction while listening to the easy blend of conversations drift across the tables. The Republic has that effect on people, a place where locals and foreigners from all over seem to fall into

By Kofi Sasraku I realised the cedi had been telling us the truth long before the economists did, long before the IMF briefings, the panic in the forex bureaus, or the political promises that always arrive too late. The moment came years ago in the Osu market, standing near a

(by Kofi Sasraku) I first realised Ghana was stuck in a loop one quiet afternoon in Kumasi, sitting in a small chop bar behind the Kejetia market. A woman who sold tomato paste was arguing gently with the owner about why her ingredients now cost more than they did the

(by Kofi Sasraku) There are moments in every society when the public conversation feels thin, when the loudest voices drown out the most important questions. In Ghana, I have felt that tension all my adult life. The gap between what people say publicly and what they discuss privately is often