The governance landscape in Ghana often feels like an unending cycle of reinvention. Each election season ushers in a new government, which, in turn, seems compelled to stamp its identity on the nation’s institutions. This phenomenon has extended even to the naming and restructuring of ministries—a practice that leaves many Ghanaians questioning its necessity and its impact on the continuity of national development.
When one observes politics in developed countries, a stark contrast becomes evident. There is rarely, if ever, a debate about the names or core functions of government departments. In the United States, for instance, the Department of State has remained so since its establishment. The same applies to most European nations where ministries are stable fixtures of governance. Why, then, does Ghana persist in revisiting the nomenclature and structure of its ministries every electoral cycle?
President John Dramani Mahama’s recent decision to streamline the number of ministries from 30 to 23 has been widely praised. The move signals a step toward efficiency and fiscal prudence. However, even within this laudable action lies a deeper issue: why is it necessary to revise ministries so frequently? The concern here is not just about numbers but also about consistency.
For instance, the seat of government itself reflects this inconsistency. Under the National Democratic Congress (NDC), it is the Flagstaff House; under the New Patriotic Party (NPP), it reverts to Jubilee House. The symbolic renaming often eclipses the functional continuity expected of such an institution. This back-and-forth risks diverting focus from the real business of governance to debates that, in truth, add little value to the lives of the average Ghanaian.
The argument for crystalizing Ghana’s ministries and key state institutions is compelling. By agreeing on a core structure embedded deeply in the governance framework, administrations could focus on building upon existing foundations rather than reconstructing them. This approach would foster a sense of permanence, ensuring that ministries and their mandates transcend the political ideologies of ruling parties.
Key sectors such as education, health, infrastructure, and finance are universal priorities. Their oversight does not change with the government in power. Why then should the ministries responsible for these sectors undergo name changes or restructuring so frequently? Institutional memory, a critical aspect of governance, is often disrupted by these changes, leading to inefficiencies and setbacks.
Crystalizing ministries would also eliminate the perception of partisanship in governance structures. It would signal a mature democracy focused on development rather than party identity. Imagine a Ghana where, regardless of which party is in power, the Ministry of Health remains the Ministry of Health, and its focus remains unwaveringly on delivering healthcare services to the population.
The broader question is: How do we achieve this?
The process requires a national consensus involving political parties, civil society organizations, and governance experts. A legislative framework could be enacted to define the core ministries and their functions, ensuring they remain untouchable by political whims. This would not stifle innovation but rather anchor it within a stable governance structure.
At its core, the frequent renaming of ministries and institutions reflects a deeper challenge: the need to move beyond politics-as-usual to governance that prioritizes long-term development. It is a call for maturity in how Ghana approaches statecraft—a call to prioritize what truly matters.
