Rapid coastal erosion along Ghana’s southeastern Agavedzi and Keta-Aflao corridor has escalated into an economic and humanitarian emergency, with surging tides now threatening critical infrastructure, businesses, and ancestral lands.
For decades, communities here have watched the Atlantic claw away their shores, but recent weeks have seen the crisis reach a tipping point, leaving residents and local enterprises scrambling for survival.
“The sea advances faster than we can adapt. Our roads, homes, and heritage are vanishing,” said Joel Degue, a resident of Agavedzi, where the Keta-Aflao road—a lifeline for local commerce—faces imminent collapse. The erosion has already severed access to parts of the coastline, destabilizing businesses reliant on the route for trade. While heavy trucks transporting cocoa bypass the area, smaller enterprises, including fishmongers, salt producers, and market traders, now stare at economic ruin.
A major salt mining company operating near the Agavedzi Lagoon has drawn sharp criticism for its silence amid the disaster. Though its operations lie on the lagoon side, residents argue the firm has a moral duty to support coastal defense efforts. “Businesses profit from this land but turn away as the sea devours it. This is collective survival,” Degue stressed.
Government response, thus far, has focused on short-term relief. The Volta Regional Minister, James Gunu, and the National Disaster Management Organization (NADMO) have distributed food and blankets to displaced families. But locals dismiss these gestures as band-aid solutions. “Relief items keep us alive today, but what about tomorrow? We need seawalls, not sympathy,” Degue asserted.
The crisis has reignited demands for the stalled second phase of the Keta Sea Defense Project. Completed in 2016, the first phase stabilized parts of Keta, but the planned extension to shield Agavedzi, Salakope, and neighboring areas remains dormant. Degue implored President Mahama to fast-track the project: “This is a national emergency. Relocate families now, then build defenses before the rains return.”
The human toll is visceral. Gravesites have been swallowed by the ocean, leaving bones scattered along the battered shore. “Our ancestors’ remains float in the waves. This erosion isn’t just taking land—it’s erasing our history,” Degue lamented.
Economically, the stakes are equally dire. The Agavedzi-Keta-Aflao zone anchors regional trade, and its collapse could disrupt supply chains, inflate prices, and deepen poverty in one of Ghana’s most vulnerable regions. Experts warn that without urgent intervention, the area could face irreversible ecological damage, displacing thousands and crippling livelihoods.
As the rainy season looms, residents issue a final plea: “The government and businesses must act as one. We need steel and stone, not empty promises.” For Agavedzi and its neighbors, the clock ticks louder than the tide.
