A fiery parliamentary vetting session on Friday laid bare simmering tensions over the integrity of Samuel Okudzeto Ablakwa, Ghana’s Minister-Designate for Foreign Affairs, as MP Alexander Afenyo-Markin launched a blistering critique aimed at dismantling the nominee’s self-styled image as a crusader against corruption.
A dramatic clash unfolded that raised urgent questions about transparency, accountability, and the gap between political rhetoric and reality.
Central to the controversy were allegations that Ablakwa, often celebrated as a “saintly” anti-corruption advocate, has engaged in conduct starkly at odds with his public persona. Afenyo-Markin accused the nominee of dishonesty regarding his property holdings, financial decisions, and ethical judgments.
Property Puzzles and “Rented” Mansions
Ablakwa claimed during the vetting that he owns no properties in Accra beyond a four-bedroom house in his constituency, insisting he is merely a tenant in an upscale Airport Hills mansion. Sceptics immediately questioned the narrative: rents in the elite neighbourhood reportedly exceed 30,000 monthly, totalling nearly 3 million over eight years—enough to construct multiple homes. Critics, including Afenyo-Markin, allege the property is secretly owned by Ablakwa, citing accounts from visitors and associates. “Why rent when you could build?” opponents asked, casting doubt on the legitimacy of his financial disclosures.
Car Loans and Questionable Priorities
Further scrutiny fell on Ablakwa’s use of parliamentary car loans. While lawmakers receive these funds to purchase vehicles for official duties, Ablakwa allegedly diverted part of his loan to acquire a combine harvester—a move Afenyo-Markin framed as emblematic of hypocrisy. “He brands others as corrupt, yet exploits state resources for personal ventures,” the MP argued, accusing Ablakwa of leveraging his “integrity” brand to deflect scrutiny.
The Isofoton Scandal and Martin Amidu’s Claims
Ablakwa’s involvement in the controversial Isofoton debt settlement resurfaced as a flashpoint. Former Special Prosecutor Martin Amidu has repeatedly accused Ablakwa of pressuring him to approve payments to the Spanish firm despite evidence Ghana owed no such debt. Afenyo-Markin seized on this, painting Ablakwa as a “financial engineer” for dubious claims—starkly contrasting his reputation as a guardian of the public purse.
Opacity and Double Standards
Perhaps most damning were allegations of selective transparency. Ablakwa refused to disclose shareholders in his newly registered company, citing their privacy—a stance Afenyo-Markin derided as hypocritical given the nominee’s history of publicly exposing others’ financial dealings without consent. “He weaponizes transparency against opponents but shields himself,” the MP charged, accusing Committee Chairman Kwame Anyimadu-Antwi of shielding Ablakwa from more challenging questions.
Political Theater or Accountability?
The session took on a theatrical edge as procedural clashes erupted. Afenyo-Markin abruptly halted his questioning, protesting what he called biased interference by the committee chair to protect Ablakwa. This fueled claims of a coordinated effort to sanitize the nominee’s record. Yet even in its incomplete state, the exchange laid bare contradictions: a politician who champions austerity but defends business-class travel, a self-proclaimed reformer enmeshed in opaque financial ties.
Broader Implications for Public Trust
The spectacle underscores a deepening crisis of faith in Ghana’s political class. Ablakwa’s case epitomizes a paradox: leaders who position themselves as ethical alternatives to a broken system only to mirror the practices they condemn. For citizens, the fallout is corrosive. “If even the ‘saints’ are compromised, who can we trust?” asked one social media commentator, capturing the disillusionment.
While Ablakwa retains supporters who view the attacks as politically motivated, the vetting has undeniably tarnished his carefully curated image. As Ghana grapples with economic hardship and demands for accountability, the episode serves as a reminder that in an era of performative politics, actions—not slogans—define legitimacy. The road to restoring public trust begins not with lofty promises but with leaders willing to live by the standards they impose on others.