In the run-up to Ghana’s 2024 general elections, the National Democratic Congress (NDC), with one of its most vocal apostles in Samuel Okudzeto Ablakwa, mounted a fervent campaign against what they labelled as the “wasteful, insensitive, and elite” lifestyle of then-President Nana Addo Dankwa Akufo-Addo.
No single issue captured this outrage more vividly than the president’s use of hired private jets for official international travel. Ablakwa transformed every chartered flight into an indictment—of the president, his government, and, by extension, their moral compass.
He thundered from Parliament. He roared on the radio. He penned posts and gave pressers.
And in one now widely circulated video, he declared, in no uncertain terms:
“If my party ever comes to power and hires a private jet instead of using the presidential jet, I will resign from any government position I hold.”
His outrage was fiery. His convictions, supposedly unshakable. His tone—righteous and absolute.
Today, that same preacher is silent. Uncomfortably, conspicuously, hypocritically silent.
In 2021 and 2022, Ablakwa and the NDC turned every flight Akufo-Addo took into a national morality play. According to them, this wasn’t just about logistics or comfort—it was about empathy, about modesty, about servant leadership. A true leader, they insisted, should travel with the awareness of the burdens Ghanaians carry daily.
In a June 1, 2021, Facebook post, Ablakwa wrote:
“The President’s chartering of a luxury jet that costs the Ghanaian taxpayer over 15,000 euros an hour, while our people suffer, is not only insensitive—it is obscene.”
He routinely broke down the cost of these flights, juxtaposing them with the cost of building CHPS compounds, supplying hospital beds, or clearing arrears owed to teachers. The NDC, with Ablakwa as its mouthpiece, went so far as to highlight alleged luxury jet features like showers and bedrooms as symbols of governance gone rogue.
And it worked. The image of a president flying high above the clouds while his people toiled below took root. It became a rallying cry. A referendum on leadership empathy. And a warning against arrogance in power.
But now the storm has gone still.
Thus, it didn’t take long after the NDC returned to power for those moral high grounds to vanish like morning mist under a rising sun. The very party that turned private jet travel into a national moral crisis now appears unwilling to hold itself to the same standards.
In April 2025, just a month ago, the Vice President, Her Excellency, Jane Naana Opoku-Agyemang was flown out of the country on a private jet for what officials described as an “emergency medical evacuation.” She returned months later—again, aboard a private jet.
The government defended the use of the private aircraft, claiming the presidential jet was “not in optimal condition for such a sensitive evacuation.”
But where was this understanding in 2021? Back then, when Minister of Defence Dominic Nitiwul offered similar reasons about the Falcon jet’s limitations, Ablakwa waved them off as hollow justifications—covering up governmental extravagance.
Now, the same justification is being served to the Ghanaian public—with little challenge, less scrutiny, and absolutely no outrage from the man who once staked his entire credibility on opposing it.
Again, President Mahama’s Alleged Private Jet Use – Déjà Vu, Different Lens. Where reports—some unconfirmed but persistent—have surfaced that President John Mahama has also used private jets for official travel since his return to power. Government spokespersons either dismiss the claims or say nothing at all. Pro-NDC media houses and loyal social commentators, once very interested in flight numbers and fuel receipts, now steer clear of the issue.
And Ablakwa? Silent.
Where is the energy that once inspired parliamentary probes? Where is the investigator who once chased flight manifests and exposed aircraft rental contracts? Why is there no Facebook exposé, no urgent questions, no indignation?
What changed—except who holds the remote to the jet?
Let us not forget. Samuel Okudzeto Ablakwa made a pledge to the Ghanaian people: that if his own party committed the same offence, he would resign. Not question. Not justify. Not remain silent. Resign.
Today, the offence has occurred.
Multiple times.
And not only is Ablakwa still in office, but he is also uncharacteristically mute. This is not political convenience. It is betrayal. A betrayal of his own word. A betrayal of the trust of those who believed in his cause. A betrayal of the integrity he once claimed was non-negotiable.
The Cost of Hypocrisy – To Democracy, Trust, and Truth
This hypocrisy comes at a cost. A steep one.
1. Public Trust in Decline
How are Ghanaians to believe in any political voice when those who once claimed to speak truth to power go silent the moment, they become power? This silence validates a growing public cynicism: “They’re all the same when they get power.” If Ablakwa’s principles were genuine, they should have survived the transition from opposition to government. The fact that they haven’t raises hard, uncomfortable questions.
2. Rhetoric as a Weapon – Now Turned Boomerang
Between 2021 and 2023, Ablakwa’s rhetoric galvanized youth movements. It inspired hashtags. It made the suffering feel heard. Today, that rhetoric lies shattered, turned against its own author. Ghanaians remember. They remember every call to conscience. Every demand for transparency. Every warning against excess. And now, they remember this silence.
3. The Danger of Normalizing Hypocrisy
When citizens and civil society refuse to demand consistency across governments, we normalize hypocrisy. We reduce moral arguments to campaign gimmicks. We make accountability conditional. And we send a dangerous message to future leaders: You can do whatever you condemned, so long as your side stays quiet.
That culture creates:
Voter apathy Media complicity Entrenched political entitlement And worst of all, public disillusionment
My article is a call for Consistency and National Memory to hold people especially those elected to serve the nation accountable to the very standards they hold others to. This is not just about one man’s broken promise. It is about the soul of our democracy. Ghana must reject seasonal morality. We must demand integrity that endures both power and poverty. We must cultivate a citizenry that refuses to forget. Because forgetting is how injustice repeats.
Let every Ghanaian take this to heart:
Truth does not shift with the winds of political power. And silence, when it is most needed, is not neutrality—it is betrayal.
The next time a voice screams loudest in opposition, ask yourself:
Will they whisper the same truths when their hands are on the wheel?
Until then, watch not just how our leaders speak—but how they fall silent.
And let the silence of Ablakwa be remembered—not out of malice, but as a cautionary tale. For in a country where power silences prophets, we must all become the keepers of truth.
So, when is he, Samuel Okudzeto Ablakwa going to tender in his resignation?
#Puobabangna
By Victor Raul Puobabangna Plance from Eggu in the Upper West Region of Ghana
By Victor Raul Puobabangna Plance
