Greed, Unlawfulness and an Industry's Leadership Failure: The CRBT Scandal

There is something profoundly wrong with an industry where the people who create the music struggle to pay hospital bills while the companies monetising that music announce healthy profits.

The singer writes the hit.
The producer crafts the sound.
The songwriter creates the melody that millions enjoy.

Yet somewhere along the value chain, the people who create the product become the poorest participants in the business built around it.

That, in many respects, is the story of Ghana's Caller Ring Back Tone (CRBT) service.

For nearly two decades, telecom companies have generated significant revenues from a platform powered almost entirely by Ghanaian music. Every caller tune exists because someone sat in a studio, wrote lyrics, composed melodies, invested in production and transformed creativity into intellectual property.

Without music, the service does not exist.
Without creators, there is no business model.

Yet the creators continue to receive what appears to be the smallest reward from the enterprise their talent sustains.

This is no longer just a commercial disagreement.

It is a question of fairness, accountability and respect for intellectual property.

When the Calculator Refuses to Balance

The CRBT model is simple.
A customer pays to activate a favourite song as a caller tune. The customer then pays a recurring monthly subscription to continue using the service.

Nobody disputes that technology costs money. Servers cost money. Software costs money. Platforms require investment.

The monthly subscription is designed to cover precisely that.

The real controversy begins with the activation fee.

Industry reports suggest telecom operators retain roughly 70 percent of that revenue, leaving about 30 percent for aggregators. Those aggregators then deduct their own share before musicians and record labels eventually receive what may amount to between 11 and 15 percent of the original payment.

That arithmetic deserves more than applause.
It deserves interrogation.
How does the shelf earn more than the book?
How does the cinema earn more than the movie?
How does the stage earn more than the performer?
Without the song, there is no caller tune to sell.
Without the artist, there is nothing to download.

The argument that technology justifies such an imbalance becomes increasingly difficult to defend when the platform is already financed through recurring subscription fees.

Infrastructure deserves compensation.
It should not become an excuse for disproportionate enrichment.

There is an important difference.

The Royalty That Refused to Ring

If the revenue split raises eyebrows, the unresolved issue of mechanical royalties should raise alarms.

Every commercially exploited song carries two distinct copyrights.

One protects the sound recording.
The other protects the underlying musical composition.
The first rewards performers and record labels.
The second protects composers, songwriters, publishers and producers.

Internationally, services such as CRBT recognise both rights and pay accordingly.

That is how creative economies grow.
That is how creators remain creators.
In Ghana, however, composers, publishers and other rights holders have spent well over a decade waiting for full recognition of those rights.

GHAMRO deserves acknowledgment for pursuing this matter through the courts and securing a High Court decision affirming the obligation to pay the appropriate royalties. Yet court victories achieve little if compliance remains elusive.

Perhaps the most uncomfortable question is this.

If some telecom operators reportedly comply with comparable royalty obligations in other African countries, why should Ghanaian creators settle for anything less?

Respect should not require a passport.
The law should not become flexible depending on geography.

Leadership Must Carry Its Share of the Blame

The telecom companies cannot shoulder all the criticism.
The music industry's leadership must also answer difficult questions.

For years, parts of the industry have celebrated CRBT as one of music's biggest revenue opportunities. That may well be true.

What has received far less attention is whether the people creating the music receive a fair share of that opportunity.

A large cake means very little when musicians are repeatedly handed the crumbs.

MUSIGA was not established to decorate corporate events or perfect the art of ceremonial speeches.

Its reason for existence is simple.
Protect musicians.
Fight for musicians.
Improve the welfare of musicians.
Everything else should come second.

That means negotiating better commercial agreements, demanding transparency, insisting on equitable royalty structures and refusing to mistake cordial relationships for meaningful representation.

Representation without results quickly becomes public relations.

GHAMRO has carried much of the legal burden. It may now be time to intensify public education so musicians understand exactly what royalties exist, what rights they possess and what revenue may still be outstanding.

Silence has protected the wrong people for far too long.

Ghana Is Exporting Hits and Importing Poverty

The tragedy extends far beyond balance sheets.

Every unpaid royalty weakens Ghana's creative economy.

It is the veteran musician postponing medical treatment because the royalties never arrived.
It is the producer abandoning a studio because investment no longer makes commercial sense.
It is the gifted songwriter choosing another career because creativity cannot pay school fees.
It is the publisher unable to invest in discovering the next generation of talent.

Then, when another music legend dies in financial hardship, the nation organises a candlelight vigil, delivers emotional tributes and asks how such a tragedy happened.

The answer may have been ringing in our ears all along.

A country that underpays creativity should never be surprised when creativity struggles to survive.

This conversation is not about charity.
It is not about corporate kindness.
It is about recognising intellectual property as real property and paying creators what they have lawfully earned.

Time to End the Performance

Ghanaian music has already conquered international playlists.

Our artists collaborate with global stars, fill arenas and shape African popular culture.

Talent has never been the problem.
The system has.
If Ghana truly wants to become Africa's creative capital, then creators cannot remain the least rewarded participants in the value chain.

The path forward is neither mysterious nor impossible.

Telecom companies should fully comply with all legal royalty obligations, settle outstanding payments where due and renegotiate CRBT revenue sharing so that creators receive compensation that reflects the value of their work.

The National Communications Authority and all relevant regulators should insist on greater transparency in CRBT reporting, independent audits where necessary and strict compliance with copyright obligations.

MUSIGA must return to its founding purpose by making musicians' welfare the measure of its success.

GHAMRO should continue pursuing unpaid royalties while ensuring rights holders receive timely information on collections, enforcement efforts and distributions.

Most importantly, musicians themselves must demand accountability. Intellectual property is an economic asset, not a favour granted by corporations. Every creator has the right to understand how their work generates income and to receive every cedi that the law entitles them to.

The ringtone has played for long enough.
Now it is time for the money to follow the music.

Because when creativity enriches everyone except the creator, that is not innovation.

It is exploitation wrapped in a pleasant melody.

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