Ghana’s Parliament descended into disarray on January 30 during a late-night ministerial vetting session, exposing a vacuum of leadership and emotional intelligence among its ranks.
What began as a routine process to approve presidential nominees spiraled into a televised spectacle of shouting, damaged property, and near-physical altercations, leaving citizens questioning the competence of their elected representatives.
The turmoil erupted after Minority members of the Appointment Committee, fatigued from hours of vetting four nominees, insisted on adjourning to resume scrutiny of Foreign Affairs nominee Samuel Okudzeto Ablakwa with “fresh minds.” Their Majority counterparts, however, demanded to continue, partly to reclaim time lost earlier while addressing bribery accusations leveled by activist Oliver Barker Vormawor against the Committee. The clash of priorities quickly turned personal. Minority Leader Alexander Afenyo-Markin’s theatrical protest—slamming chairs and refusing to yield—ignited a chain reaction. Witnesses claim Minority Chief Whip Frank Annor Dompreh escalated tensions by ordering technicians to “remove the cables,” cutting off live broadcasts, though the chaos only intensified. Footage later showed shattered microphones, a broken table, and lawmakers shoving one another as Chairman Bernard Ahiafor pressed ahead, hastily swearing in Health Minister-designate Kwabena Mintah Akandoh amid the bedlam.
The incident laid bare a failure of leadership at multiple levels. Afenyo-Markin, instead of de-escalating, fueled division with performative defiance. Ahiafor, tasked with steering the session, prioritized procedure over peace, allowing the situation to deteriorate. Their actions stood in stark contrast to leadership principles taught at institutions like GIMPA, where Professor Stephen Adae often emphasizes that “leadership is cause, everything else is effect.” Here, the effect was national embarrassment.
Yet the night also offered a glimmer of restraint. Majority Leader Mahama Ayariga, entering the fray late, reportedly calmed tempers with measured appeals for decorum—a reminder that emotional intelligence, not just authority, defines effective leadership. His intervention underscored a painful truth: the Committee’s meltdown was not inevitable but a product of poor judgment.
Public reaction has been swift and scathing. Social media users likened the scene to a “market brawl,” while civil society groups warned that such behavior erodes trust in democracy. The fallout raises urgent questions: Can a body tasked with vetting ministers afford to lack self-discipline? How will Parliament rebuild credibility after this self-inflicted wound?
The Akan proverb, “Your beauty will take you to marriage, but your character will bring you back,” echoes painfully here. Political titles and eloquence may secure power, but as January 30 proved, it is character—tested under pressure—that sustains it. Parliament now faces a reckoning. Repairing damaged microphones is easy; repairing damaged reputations will require something far harder: humility, accountability, and a return to the sober ideals of public service.
As the dust settles, Ghanaians await signs that their leaders have learned the night’s hardest lesson—that true authority lies not in loud voices, but in the quiet capacity to lead by example.
