A recent public suggestion argues that Ghana should adopt a grace period following general elections, particularly in situations where a Member of Parliament (MP) dies, resigns, or becomes incapacitated shortly after assuming office. The proposal recommends that within this window, say 12 months, the affected political party should be allowed to appoint a replacement MP without holding a full-scale by-election.
While this may appear practical at first glance, offering what seems like cost savings and political stability, it raises serious concerns about democratic integrity. Beneath the surface, this idea undermines the very foundation of our representative system. Ghana’s constitutional design, political reality, and electoral behavior all affirm that no one, not even Parliament or a political party, can assume the voice of the people without their consent. When a seat becomes vacant, the people must be allowed to speak again through the ballot.
Ghana does not operate a purely presidential or purely parliamentary system. Instead, our democracy is a hybrid. We elect our president directly, as done in the United States, while our Members of Parliament represent constituencies directly, much like in the United Kingdom. In this model, MPs are not ceremonial; they are central to governance. Many serve as ministers, committee chairs, or decision-makers in national policy. Leaving a seat vacant, or worse, allowing a party to fill it without a vote, would silence entire communities and distort the democratic balance we have worked hard to build.
The 1992 Constitution is unambiguous on this matter. Article 112(5) mandates that a by-election must be held within 60 days of a parliamentary seat becoming vacant. There is no ambiguity or room for discretionary interpretation. The law does not say a by-election should be held only when it is convenient or when political tension is low. It says it must be held. This affirms a simple truth. Representation is not a luxury. It is a fundamental democratic right. To deny voters the chance to choose a new MP even temporarily is to strip them of their voice in Parliament. No party or official has the moral or legal authority to override that.
Some proponents of the grace period argue that once a party wins a seat, it should be allowed to keep it within that term if a vacancy occurs shortly after elections. But this argument fails to account for how Ghanaian voters behave. Our electorate does not always vote strictly along party lines. Many vote based on personal merit, trust, and the integrity of individual candidates. In fact, our political landscape is full of examples where voters distinguish between party and personality. A clear example is the Ayawaso West Wuogon by-election in 2019. Following the death of MP Emmanuel Kyerematen Agyarko, the NPP retained the seat through Lydia Alhassan. But the victory was not merely a matter of party loyalty. Factors such as sympathy, familiarity, and the personal goodwill she carried all influenced the result. Had the NPP chosen a different candidate, the outcome could have been entirely different.
Another compelling example is the Talensi by-election of 2015. Talensi had long been considered an NDC stronghold, yet in the 2012 general election, the NPP won the seat. This was largely due to the popularity of their candidate, Robert Nachinab Doameng Mosore, a respected traditional figure whose influence cut across party lines. When he resigned to ascend the Tongo chieftaincy, a by-election was triggered. The NDC reclaimed the seat, not because of any dramatic shift in party loyalty, but because the NPP’s new candidate lacked Mosore’s cross-cutting appeal. This shows that political allegiance can be fluid and voters often assess individuals, not just party labels. The idea that a party should automatically replace a fallen MP ignores this democratic nuance.
Democracies elsewhere confirm this standard. In the United Kingdom, a by-election is automatically held whenever a parliamentary seat is vacated, regardless of when it happens. In the United States, congressional vacancies are filled through special elections. Nowhere in these mature democracies is it acceptable for a political party to appoint a new representative without the people’s participation. Representation must always be earned through an open and fair vote.
Some have argued for constitutional reform that extends the current three-month blackout period to a full year, with alternatives such as party-nominated replacements or proxy voting by party caucuses. But these proposals, though dressed in pragmatism, risk setting a dangerous precedent. They would centralize power in party executives, weaken the direct mandate of MPs, and silence constituencies at a time when their voices are most needed. Democracy cannot afford these shortcuts. Cost and convenience must never override the constitutional principle that representation flows only from the people and not from parties, not from Parliament, and certainly not from temporary fixes disguised as reforms.
Another argument made in favor of this so-called grace period is that by-elections in Ghana are too volatile. Many have become high-stakes, winner-takes-all contests, often marred by tension, intimidation, and even violence. The Ayawaso West Wuogon by-election itself was not only competitive but also chaotic, with police and security interventions that sparked national debate. Because of these incidents, some people argue that avoiding by-elections, at least in the first year of a parliamentary term, might help reduce political violence and maintain peace. But this argument, while emotionally persuasive, is deeply flawed and ultimately dangerous.
Electoral violence is a serious issue, but the solution is not to sidestep democratic processes. Rather, we must strengthen our electoral institutions, ensure law enforcement remains neutral, and hold those who foment violence accountable. We do not solve democratic weaknesses by limiting democracy. If anything, the intensity of by-elections reveals just how much representation matters. These elections are fiercely contested precisely because the stakes are high. They offer voters a genuine opportunity to reset or reaffirm their choice. That is not something to fear. It is something to protect.
Whether the reasons given are cost, convenience, or fear of conflict, the result of the grace period proposal is the same: it excludes the people from the democratic process. The examples from Talensi and Ayawaso West Wuogon, as well as other constituencies, make it clear that Ghanaian voters are not bound to parties. They are thoughtful. They reward credibility, leadership, and personal connection. That is why we often see skirt and blouse voting in Ghana, where a voter may choose one party’s presidential candidate and another party’s parliamentary candidate. In such cases, the voter is sending a message. That message deserves to be heard every time a vacancy occurs and not just when it suits party leaders.
Ghana’s democracy has come a long way. Our people are politically conscious and active. We should be strengthening that democracy, not weakening it with proposals that limit voter participation. The Constitution is clear. The people’s right is sacred. Let us not trade away our democratic values for the illusion of convenience or calm. There is no shortcut to representation. And in a real democracy, there is no grace period.
