When Was the Last Time You Questioned That ‘Little’ Bribe?
A few years ago, I found myself stuck in traffic somewhere around Circle — that crazy Accra roundabout that feels like a social experiment gone rogue. I watched a trotro mate quietly slip a few cedis into a policeman’s hand, just so he wouldn’t get fined for overloading. Nobody flinched. Not the passengers, not the policeman, not even me — and that’s the part that bugs me to this day.
This week, I read that the Ghana Anti-Corruption Coalition (GACC) is calling for serious action against graft. Honestly, I sighed. Not because I don’t believe them. But because, deep down, I’ve seen how our everyday choices feed this monster called corruption. It’s not just the big guys in suits signing bloated contracts — it’s you and me, too. Those “small tips” to jump a queue, the “little something” to get your papers through faster. We’ve normalised it so much that you’d think it’s part of our DNA.
Sometimes I wonder — are we tired of our own excuses? Or do we just love to complain while we sip our tea and scroll Twitter for the next scandal? I mean, we’re great at hashtags. #StopCorruptionNow trends for a day, then everyone moves on. Meanwhile, the same people blasting politicians online would happily pay an officer to dodge a traffic ticket tomorrow morning. (And yeah, I’m dragging myself too — I’m not some angel here.)
In my opinion, the Ghana Anti-Corruption Coalition is right to sound the alarm. They’re basically shouting into a room full of people pretending they don’t hear. And the irony? Those people include the very ones who should fix the mess — the same ones making promises every election season. But here’s the thing — we can’t keep waiting for ‘the system’ when we’re the system, too.
Just last month, my friend told me about how she refused to pay a bribe at a government office. She stood her ground for hours — missed lunch, missed meetings — just to prove a point. I teased her then (I’m a terrible friend sometimes), but looking back, I admire her guts. One small act, but what if we all did that?
Maybe we’re afraid to be that one “difficult person” who slows down the line. Or maybe we’re just exhausted. Fighting corruption isn’t sexy work — it’s tedious, frustrating, and thankless. But if we don’t pick this fight ourselves, who will?
Late at night, when the city is quiet, I sometimes wonder — what would Accra look like if we actually treated corruption like the monster it is? If we didn’t look the other way? Would we still need coalitions to remind us to care?
I may be wrong, but I feel like change starts with those tiny, uncomfortable moments — when you say no, when you speak up, when you refuse the easy way out. I’m not saying it’s easy. It’s just necessary.
So, next time you’re tempted to grease a palm to make life ‘easier’ — ask yourself: whose future are you really paying for? And is it worth the price?
What would happen if we all decided that our integrity was non-negotiable?