The Culture We Carry: How Ghana’s Way of Life Shapes Us More Than We Realise

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 the same rhythm.

At the table next to mine, a young man was trying to explain something to an older colleague. He spoke carefully, almost performing the respect he had been raised with.

“Sir, I don’t mean to challenge you, please…”

He paused before offering the mildest disagreement you’ll hear in Ghana outside a church meeting.

The older man nodded, pleased not just with the correction but the manner of it.

It struck me because I’ve seen this script everywhere, in offices, at weddings, in WhatsApp groups where people debate everything and confront nothing.

Ghanaian culture is subtle, powerful, and always present.
It shapes us even when we pretend it doesn’t.

Politeness is our national language — and our quiet weakness

We are a polite people.

We soften criticism.
We decorate disagreements.
We turn direct sentences into suggestions.
We apologise before telling the truth.

In personal life, it keeps peace.
In public life, it delays progress.

The most dangerous phrase in Ghana is still:

“Let’s manage.”

Managing is compassion, until it becomes avoidance.
Managing is maturity, until it becomes denial.
Managing keeps relationships intact, and systems stagnant.

 Respect holds us together — but sometimes holds us back

Respect is the backbone of Ghanaian life.

From childhood, we learn:

• speak gently
• avoid challenging elders
• add “sir” and “madam” without thinking
• do not embarrass anyone publicly
• never be “too known”

Respect is beautiful.
But hierarchy has a cost.

In many rooms, the person with the answer is not the person allowed to speak.
Innovation suffocates under the weight of seniority.
Brilliant ideas remain polite thoughts in people’s heads.

Respect should not mean silence.

We are communal — but selective about responsibility

We show up for each other:

• funerals
• weddings
• emergencies
• late-night calls
• food contributions
• family obligations

Our sense of community is genuine and deep.

But civic responsibility?
That is where our communal instinct fades.

We clean our homes but not our streets.
We want functional institutions but avoid engaging them.
We expect honesty from leaders but hesitate to demand it.
We want accountability without confrontation.

Community without shared responsibility becomes sentiment, not structure.

We adapt to everything — sometimes too well

Ghanaians are experts in coping.

Light off? Manage.
Water shortage? Manage.
Prices rising? Manage.
Poor service? Manage.
Delayed progress? Manage.

Adaptability is a strength until it becomes a license to dysfunction.

When a society learns to survive everything, it stops insisting on improvement.

We fear embarrassment more than failure

This is one of our unspoken cultural truths.

Decisions are guided by:

“Will people laugh at me?”
“Don’t disgrace yourself.”
“Ei, don’t let them talk.”

So we hide mistakes.
We avoid risk.
We choose the safe path over the bold one.
We underplay ambition for fear of standing out.

A nation that fears embarrassment will rarely attempt greatness.

We honour tradition — but hesitate with change.

Our culture, festivals, greetings, extended family networks, and religious rituals give us a sense of identity and memory.

But tradition also creates caution.

We trust what has been done before.
We hesitate with what feels unfamiliar.
We resist change not because it is bad, but because it is new.

Progress needs experimentation.
And experimentation requires tolerating uncertainty, something our culture naturally avoids.

So what does all of this mean for Ghana today?

It means culture is not the background soundtrack
it is the operating system.

We often blame politics or leaders, but underneath leadership sits culture:

• how we speak
• how we organise
• how we make decisions
• how we avoid discomfort
• how we handle disagreement
• how we respond to change

Culture shapes everything.

It is the quiet architect of national behaviour.

Culture is not a museum — it’s a compass

We don’t need to abandon who we are.
We need to update the parts that slow us down.

Keep the warmth.
Keep the respect.
Keep the generosity.
Keep the belongings.

But refine:

• the silence
• the avoidance
• the fear of discomfort
• the excessive politeness
• the suspicion of new ideas

Culture evolves, if we let it.

And maybe, somewhere between the patient conversations at Republic,
between the laughter, the music, and the gentle Ghanaian caution,
we might begin to see ourselves clearly enough to choose a new direction.

Because culture isn’t just what we inherit.
It’s what we carry, and what we decide to become.