€ŒWHEN THE TANK RUNS DRY €” AND GOVERNMENT REACHES INTO OURS INSTEAD€

“When the Tank Runs Dry — and Government Reaches Into Ours Instead”

A few weeks ago, I stood at a fuel station, staring blankly at the pump. My tank wasn’t even full, but the number flashing back at me looked like I was buying a used motorbike. I half-joked to the attendant, “Are you sure this fuel isn't mixed with gold dust?” He didn’t even laugh. Just shrugged. Like he’d heard it ten times that morning.

So when I heard that the Energy Minister says a GH¢6.7 billion debt is forcing the government to bring back the fuel levy, my heart sank a little deeper. Honestly, I wasn’t even sure if they’d removed it in the first place. Or maybe it was just one of those sneaky levies that disappears on paper but somehow still shows up in your life — like an ex who keeps texting “just checking in.”

I’m not an economist (far from it), but I know this: everything is more expensive when fuel prices go up. Transport fares. Food prices. Even sachet water. It’s like a domino effect, and at the very end of the chain is us — the ordinary folks who already count coins before boarding a trotro or buying kenkey at night.

Now, the Energy Minister isn’t wrong. Debts don’t pay themselves. And GH¢6.7 billion is no joke. Apparently, this money is owed to the Bulk Oil Distribution Companies (BDCs), and without it, the whole energy supply chain could collapse. That's big. Like, blackout-level big. So I get the logic. But at the same time, why does it always feel like we’re the emergency ATM whenever things go sideways?

I’ve noticed this trend: when governments make financial mistakes, it’s the citizens who get asked to clean it up. “We have to make sacrifices,” they say. “We’re in this together.” But it’s never equal sacrifice. While some of us are choosing between dinner and data, others are still riding in air-conditioned convoys and debating which new V8 to buy.

In my opinion — and again, I could be wrong — if we're being asked to pay more at the pump again, we deserve more transparency. More honesty. Not just announcements. Break it down for us. Show us how the money got lost in the first place. And most importantly, what guarantees do we have that this won’t just happen again?

Because right now, it feels like we’re filling more than just our fuel tanks. We’re filling a bottomless pit of mismanagement. And it’s exhausting.

Maybe this is just my late-night frustration talking (or maybe it's the Nescafé kicking in), but I really wish someone would ask: how much more can the average Ghanaian take before we simply stop believing?

And if the system keeps draining us like this — who’ll be left with anything to give?