The rains are here again with us.
Their onset has been with full force across Ghana this year, leaving behind a trail of destruction and loss of precious lives, homes submerged, businesses disrupted, and families displaced.
From down south to the north, east and west, and in fact every nook and cranny of the country, there is mayhem as a result of the rains.
What should have been a season of renewal has rather become a period of anxiety and grief for many communities nationwide.
This is not a new spectacle. It is perennial and without any solution in sight.
In the midst of these unfortunate events, I find myself deeply saddened, not merely because of the devastation caused by the rains, but because the floods have exposed a painful truth about us as a nation.
They have revealed how unprepared we are, how complacent we have become, and in some cases, how indifferent we are to the welfare of one another.
Ordinary citizens and those in authority are to blame, with the latter being the worse off.
Authority always resort to knee-jerk reactionary and ad hoc approaches or measures to resolving national issues.
I have said it before that Ghanaians behave like the proverbial vulture, which acts anytime there is trouble but soon forgets once some relief seems to be in sight.
Every year, we watch the same scenes unfold on our television screens and social media platforms.
Roads become rivers, drains overflow, vehicles are stranded, and homes are engulfed by floodwaters.
Yet, year after year, little seems to change.
The recurring disasters raise an uncomfortable question: Have we learned anything from our past mistakes?
I am sorry for Ghana because the floods are not merely a consequence of heavy rainfall.
They are also a reflection of years of neglect, poor planning, and collective irresponsibility.
We build on watercourses despite repeated warnings.
We dispose of refuse indiscriminately, clogging drains that are meant to channel storm water.
Authorities often look the other way until tragedy strikes.
What a shame!
Productive time
A road stretch of about a hundred meters, for instance, causes vehicular traffic and more than four hours of productive time is wasted in traffic to work and another three hours after work because of sand sitting on stretches of roads.
And this will remain for weeks until some action is taken.
This inaction is highly preposterous, if not foolish.
What is even more troubling is our tendency to react rather than prevent.
Across the country, countless warning signs are ignored until they evolve into full-blown crises.
A small pothole on a busy road is left unattended until it becomes a death trap.
A blocked drain remains desilted until floodwaters sweep through an entire neighbourhood.
A weakened bridge is neglected until it collapses.
Time and again, simple interventions that could save lives and resources are often neglected until the situation spirals out of control.
The responsibility does not rest solely with political leaders and public officials.
As citizens, we too must accept our share of the blame. We cannot continue to demand accountability from leaders while ignoring our own civic duties.
The indiscriminate disposal of waste, encroachment on watercourses, and disregard for environmental regulations all contribute to the disasters we lament.
Yet, leadership matters.
Those entrusted with authority have a duty to anticipate problems and act decisively before they become emergencies.
Governance should not be measured by the speed of disaster response alone, but by the effectiveness of preventive measures.
A nation progresses when its institutions identify risks early and address them before lives are endangered.
This is why I am sorry for Ghana.
Not because we lack resources or capable people, but because we often fail to act when action is most needed. We possess the knowledge to prevent many of these tragedies, yet we repeatedly ignore difficult decisions and necessary interventions.
Any hope?
Is there any glimmer of hope? Perhaps there is. Hope lies in a collective awakening, a realisation that development requires responsibility from both leaders and citizens.
Hope lies in stronger institutions, better urban planning, effective enforcement of regulations, and a renewed commitment to the public good.
Hope lies in our willingness to abandon the culture of procrastination and embrace a culture of prevention.
However, that hope appears distant. Unless we change our attitudes and priorities, future rainy seasons may continue to bring the same stories of loss and regret.
At times, one is tempted to conclude that only divine intervention can save us from ourselves.
Still, nations are not transformed by miracles alone. They are transformed by people who recognise their failures and choose to do better.
Ghana deserves better.
Our communities deserve safer roads, cleaner drains, responsible leadership, and citizens who care enough to protect the environment they share.
As the floodwaters recede and the nation begins to count its losses once again, perhaps the greatest tragedy would be to learn nothing from the experience.
If we fail to act now, next year’s rains may return not only with water, but also with another painful reminder of opportunities wasted.
And that is why I am sorry for Ghana.
