A Question Nobody Wants to Ask as the Drumbeats of Celebration Begin
An opinion piece by a concerned citizen who knows very little about economics, but knows enough about dignity to ask uncomfortable questions
Let me begin with honesty.
I am not an economist. I do not speak the language of balance sheets and bond yields. I cannot sit on television and confidently explain inflation curves or monetary tightening while pointing at colourful graphs. If you ask me to distinguish between a fiscal deficit and a current account imbalance, I will probably smile politely and change the subject.
But there are things I do understand.
I understand human beings.
I understand shame.
I understand pride.
And I understand what it means for a nation to repeatedly stretch out its hand while pretending it still stands fully on its own feet.
That is why, as the celebrations begin and the speeches grow louder, I find myself sitting quietly with one stubborn question in my chest.
Is there really something to celebrate here?
Yes, Ghana has officially exited its Extended Credit Facility programme with the International Monetary Fund. Government officials have announced it with visible excitement. We are told inflation is easing. The cedi is showing strength. Reserves are improving. We are told stability has returned.
The language is triumphant.
One government official even described it as the “definitive end” of Ghana’s bailout relationship with the IMF.
And perhaps that is what unsettles me most.
Because we have heard versions of this before.
Many times, before.
Allow me to use the only language I fully trust: ordinary human experience.
Imagine a man struggling with addiction.
Every few years, things fall apart badly enough that his family intervenes. He checks into rehabilitation. Counsellors work with him. Doctors stabilize him. Slowly he regains control. Eventually he leaves the facility looking healthier, speaking clearly, walking steadily.
And the family celebrates.
But then, after some time, the old habits quietly return. The same behaviours. The same recklessness. The same lack of discipline that led him there in the first place.
And before long, he is back again.
Same facility. Different date.
Now tell me honestly: at what point does the family stop celebrating the discharge papers and begin asking why the man keeps returning to rehab?
Because that, painfully, is Ghana.
In sixty-nine years of independence, Ghana has entered IMF programmes eighteen times.
Eighteen.
That number should disturb us.
The first time was in the 1960s, barely a few years after independence. Then came the 1970s. Then the 1980s. Then the 1990s. Then 2003, 2009, 2015, and most recently 2022 when inflation surged, the cedi weakened dramatically, and economic pressure became unbearable.
Eighteen times.
That is not an isolated emergency anymore.
That is a pattern.
And patterns matter.
Because repeated dependence eventually forces a nation to confront difficult truths about itself. Not merely about external shocks or global conditions, but about internal discipline, governance culture, and political honesty.
What exactly keeps bringing us back here?
That is the question hidden beneath the celebration.
Because economies do not collapse accidentally eighteen times.
Something deeper is wrong.
And perhaps the most uncomfortable part is this: our political system often behaves as though the next election matters more than long-term national stability. Governments borrow heavily to sustain consumption, expand politically attractive spending, and postpone difficult decisions. Opposition parties criticize recklessness while outside power, only to repeat similar behaviour once elected.
It has become a cycle.
Borrow.
Spend.
Celebrate.
Collapse.
Run to the IMF.
Recover temporarily.
Repeat.
At some point, this stop looking like crisis management and starts looking like national habit.
And let us speak honestly about sovereignty.
People love using that word. Sovereignty. Independence. Self-determination.
But what does sovereignty truly mean if your economic survival repeatedly depends on external institutions arriving to impose discipline that your own leaders could not impose on themselves?
Because that is another truth nobody likes saying loudly.
The IMF often enters not merely with money, but with conditions. Cut spending. Increase taxes. Reform subsidies. Tighten discipline. In essence, outsiders arrive to force restraint upon a political class that repeatedly struggles to restrain itself.
And then we celebrate when we finally leave.
Only to return later.
Again.
At what point do we stop treating this as achievement and start seeing it as warning?
Please do not misunderstand me.
I am not arguing that the IMF itself is evil. In moments of crisis, countries need support. Stabilization matters. Economic recovery matters. Citizens need relief. Markets need confidence.
But relief is not the same thing as cure.
Exiting an IMF programme does not automatically mean we have solved the deeper problem. It may simply mean we have temporarily regained enough balance to stand without assistance.
The real question is whether we have changed the behaviour that brought us there in the first place.
Have we become more disciplined as a nation?
Have we reduced waste?
Have we strengthened production?
Have we confronted corruption seriously?
Have we stopped governing for elections instead of generations?
Or have we merely survived another cycle?
This is why the celebrations feel premature to some of us.
Because ordinary citizens are not living inside macroeconomic statistics. They are living inside daily realities.
They still struggle with high costs of living.
They still face weak healthcare systems.
They still endure unemployment and underemployment.
They still watch public waste with frustration.
And somewhere in the middle of all this, politicians celebrate an IMF exit as though it is national liberation itself.
But true economic freedom is not the ability to temporarily leave a bailout programme.
True economic freedom is building a nation disciplined enough not to need repeated rescue.
Perhaps that is the deeper sadness.
Ghana is not a poor country in spirit, intelligence, or potential. We are a gifted people. Resourceful. Creative. Resilient. Yet we often govern ourselves like people permanently trapped between ambition and indiscipline.
And that contradiction is expensive.
So yes, let the officials celebrate if they must.
But some of us will remain cautious.
Because leaving rehabilitation is not the same as conquering addiction.
And after eighteen visits, celebration without introspection begins to feel less like confidence and more like denial.
God save the Queen, they used to sing.
But today, perhaps the harder question is this:
Who saves Ghana from the habits that keep bringing Ghana back to the same door?