The President’s wallet and the boys who won’t score

There is a particular type of heartbreak that only eleven grown men chasing a leather sphere can inflict upon a nation. It is a unique Ghanaian tragedy, seasoned with broken promises and served hot under the scorching morning sun. As I sat over my bowl of hausa koko and koose this morning, contemplating the state of our union, my mind drifted—as it unfortunately often does—to the entity we still fondly, if erroneously, refer to as the Black Stars.

Oh, for the days of Stephen Appiah! A time when the jersey meant blood, sweat, and actual victories, rather than Instagram reels, designer headphones, and hefty appearance fees.

Let us be completely honest with ourselves. We have reached a point where watching the national team has become a hazardous threat to public health. The blood pressures of regular, tax-paying Ghanaians are spiking faster than the inflation rate, all because we are pampering a crop of boys and suit-wearing officials who treat national assignments like an all-expenses-paid beach holiday.

And who is footing the bill? The government, of course. Or rather, you and I, through the benevolent, heavily depleted coffers of the state.

Now, the football purists and the high priests of the Ghana Football Association (GFA) will quickly scream, “FIFA sanctions! Government interference!” the moment anyone suggests a cleanup. But let us lower our voices and speak common sense. Nobody is talking about dissolving the FA. No one wants to barge into their shiny offices and seize their laptops.

We simply need to remind them of a basic law of property: the Black Stars do not belong to the GFA. The GFA does not own the emotions of thirty-plus million Ghanaians. They are merely trustees, caretakers of a national treasure that belongs firmly to the state. And right now, the caretakers are sleeping on the job while the house burns down.

This brings me to the highest office of the land. Mr. President, we have not forgotten. The records are there in black and white. You are on record to have directly pointed fingers at the previous administration for the historic, monumental disaster that was the failure to qualify for the AFCON 2025 tournament. You made it clear that football governance—or the lack thereof—was a political report card.

Well, Mr. President, the ball is now squarely in your court, quite literally.

My humble, dawn-induced plea to the Jubilee House is simple: Pull the plug. Cut the funding. Lock the vault and misplace the keys for the remainder of this administration’s term.

Why must we continue to throw good, scarce cocoa and gold money after bad football? Why must we spend hundreds of thousands of hard-earned dollars financing an abysmal, lifeless show on the pitch, only to be rewarded with mathematically impossible qualification scenarios and early exits? To what end are we funding this journey? An AFCON campaign that will ultimately lead us nowhere but to the departure lounge of an international airport?

Let the sanctions come. If FIFA decides to ban us because the government refuses to fund a product that brings nothing but national depression, then so be it. Let us embrace the ban with open arms and smiling faces!

Look at the silver lining: a funding freeze might actually force the football gods in this country to “focus small” on their own neglected stepchild—the Ghana Premier League. Perhaps if there are no dollar-denominated bonuses to squabble over in Marrakech or Luanda, our administrators will remember that football is grown on the local pitches of Dormaa, Berekum, and Accra.

Pulling out now gives us a rare gift: the chance to stop, breathe, regroup, and plan properly. We can hand over a clean slate—and a structurally sound plan—to the next administration.

It is a deeply sad day when Ghanaians look at the Black Stars and feel nothing but apathy. But until we stop throwing money at mediocrity, the “abysmal show” will continue to play on a loop. Mr. President, save our money, save our hearts, and let the boys fund their own flights.

By Emmanuel Amponsah (a concerned citizen musing at dawn)
The writer is a former Editor of The Spectator

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