The Accra-Kumasi road that forgot how to move

The sun was honest when I left Kumasi, promising Tema in four, maybe five hours. But promises melt on the Accra-Kumasi Road. On Friday, April 17, it took eleven hours to arrive. The road forgot how to move.

On that day, I set off from Kumasi to Tema. Google Maps said 4 hours 37 minutes. Experience said “budget five with a fufu pitstop.” Reality delivered eleven. The road forgot how to move.

It took 2 hours to reach Nkawkaw. That stretch alone used to be the warm-up. When I finally exited Nkawkaw, the clock read 12:03 pm. I heard the prompt on my Google maps that there was a 1-hour 12-minute delay because of road works, but I did not take it too seriously; my mistake. I should have been nearing Linda Dor or Bunso.

Instead, five more hours evaporated, and I was nowhere near the toll booth before Enyiresi. Five hours to cover what should take forty minutes.

This is no longer “traffic.” The road simply would not move.

In that crawl, Ghanaian nature reveals itself. Indiscipline and disorderliness are our mainstay. The badly behaved drivers show up like vultures to a carcass. Shoulders become illegal fast lanes, and trust the Voxys to lead the pack.

DV-registered cars fix sirens and blue lights to their dashboards and wail with sirens; complete lawlessness. Tricycles, buses, and tankers are all locked in a gridlock with no solution. Everyone is desperate. And so, no one moves.

Where were the police? Present, and powerless. I saw them. Even soldiers on their private funeral missions joined the chaos. They were overwhelmed. This country cannot police away an absence of infrastructure, so we will continue to sweat in it, with cars breaking down, overheating, and fuel being burnt for hours. Ghana is gradually forgetting how to move.

What saved me and a few others was the uncompleted Anyinam Bypass. No markings, no lights, just graded earth and the goodwill of someone walking by the roadside: The bypasses work. Even unfinished, they still work. Finish the bypasses.

We cannot wait for the new Accra–Kumasi Expressway. The promise of a modern, limited-access highway is the right vision. But visions don’t ease today’s 11-hour nightmares.

My direct plea to the Ministry of Roads and Highways:
– Audit and immediately restart all stalled bypasses
– Release funds.
– Deploy emergency traffic management.
– Can we start regulating recalcitrance with consequences?

The Accra–Kumasi Road should not confine the people of Ghana; it must move us. Let us correct the policy flaw. Let’s say it loud:
– We cannot wait for the Accra–Kumasi Expressway alone.
– We need the bypasses
– Completed, not stalled. Not promised. Paved.

The writer Tony Asare is the President of the Ghana Institute of Architects 

 

 

 

When the nation sleeps, the 24-Hour Economy keeps markets alive

 

 

In Ghana, the market is more than a place of exchange. It is a living institution where dawn breaks to the sound of traders sweeping stalls, where noon carries the hum of bargaining voices, and where dusk still finds hands weighing tomatoes under flickering bulbs. To speak of a 24‑hour economy is therefore not to imagine something foreign, but to recognize, organize, and elevate an energy that already exists within the country’s commercial life.

The central question is not whether Ghana can sustain a 24‑hour economy, but where its markets should be located for such an idea to succeed. If the policy is to serve the national interest rather than narrow agendas, then the siting of 24‑hour economy markets must be guided by evidence, equity, and economic logic. It must not be shaped by personal influence, political convenience, or individual ambition.

The most defensible principle is straightforward: 24‑hour economy markets should be located in communities that already generate the highest market revenues within their respective districts. Market revenue captured through tolls, stall rents, and internally generated funds, tells a clear and verifiable story. It reflects the volume of trade, the density of buyers and sellers, the efficiency of existing supply chains, and the level of trust traders place in a location. These are not abstract indicators; they are the visible footprints of economic vitality. To ignore them in favor of personal interests would be to place night‑long markets in communities that lack the commercial gravity to sustain them.

Across the country, every district has communities that function as natural commercial anchors. They may not always be administrative capitals, but they are unmistakably economic centers. These are the towns where weekly markets overflow into surrounding streets, where traders arrive from neighboring communities and even other regions, where transport operators run continuous routes, and where district assemblies derive a significant share of their revenue. In many of these places, trading already stretches well beyond daylight hours. Formalizing them as 24‑hour economy markets would not disrupt local life; it would deepen and stabilize an existing rhythm.

This approach also recognizes that Ghana’s districts are not uniform. A coastal district whose highest market revenues come from fish landing and trading communities has different commercial dynamics from a northern agrarian district where produce aggregation drives market income. Urban and peri‑urban districts may see their strongest revenues in transport‑linked commercial zones that already support late‑night retail and wholesale trade. A successful 24‑hour economy policy must therefore be district‑specific, grounded in careful assessment rather than imposed through a national one‑size‑fits‑all map.

The guiding question in each district should be simple and transparent: which community already contributes the largest share of market revenue, and why? When this question is answered honestly, the logic of location becomes difficult to contest. The 24‑hour economy then builds upon proven strength rather than speculative promise, extending productivity instead of attempting to manufacture it from nothing.

For this vision to gain public confidence, the process of selecting locations must be clearly insulated from individual interests. Transparent revenue benchmarks, published district‑level assessments, and technical input from planners, economists, and local government finance officers are essential. Equally important is a visible separation between political office holders and final site selection decisions. When traders and residents see that a market was chosen because it performs and serves, not because someone lobbied for it, trust follows. That trust, in turn, encourages investment, compliance, and long‑term sustainability.

When properly sited, a 24‑hour economy market becomes far more than a place that simply stays open through the night. It evolves into a logistics hub for overnight transport and early‑morning distribution, supporting farmers, wholesalers, and retailers alike. It creates steady employment for traders, porters, security personnel, cleaners, and transport operators. It stimulates surrounding services such as cold storage, food vending, lighting, sanitation, and financial services. With proper planning and lighting, it can also become a safer and more orderly public space, reducing the risks associated with informal night trading.

Ultimately, Ghana does not need to guess where its 24‑hour economy markets should be located. The answer is already visible in assembly revenue records, daily trading patterns, and the lived experience of traders across the country. By following market revenues at the district level, the country affirms a simple but powerful idea: that development should follow demonstrated productivity, that public policy should reward participation, and that national ambition should grow from places already carrying the weight of commerce.

When night falls and the markets remain alive, it should be because the community has earned that light through sustained economic contribution, not because someone insisted it be so.

Writer: Professor Emmanuel Daanoba Sunkari