Undermining Sovereignty: Hon. Inusah Fuseini’s Misreading of Tradition and the Bawku Chieftaincy Question

In a recent appearance on Channel One TV’s current affairs program The Big Issues, Hon. Inusah Fuseini—former Member of Parliament for Tamale Central and a respected Dagomba elder—made remarks about the Bawku chieftaincy conflict that, in our view, represent a profound misreading of northern Ghana’s traditional governance systems. His suggestion that modern democracy and so-called “restorative justice” necessitate a reassessment of the Bawku issue not only betrays historical and cultural truths but also risks deepening existing tensions under the guise of progress.

While we acknowledge Hon. Fuseini’s longstanding stature in the National Democratic Congress (NDC) and his legal acumen, his alignment with narratives propagated by Kusasi- leaning politicians such as Mahama Ayariga and Cletus Avoka raises serious concerns. This convergence of partisan politics and chieftaincy commentary is not new—but when it emanates from a grandson of Gbewaa, a Dagomba royal bearing the traditional title Malizali- Naa, it is not only disappointing but deeply unsettling.

As the Mamprusi proverb goes, “If the elder lies prostrate, the child cannot stand upright.” In this instance, Hon. Fuseini's intervention does not just bend to political convenience—it prostrates before false equivalencies that threaten the very fabric of Mole-Dagbani traditional governance. The Bawku chieftaincy, like all other skins under the Nayiri’s authority, is not a product of modern majoritarian democracy but of sacred customs rooted in lineage, history, and spiritual duty.

This is not conjecture; it is grounded in scholarship. As the late historian Ivor Wilks noted, “chieftaincy among the Mole-Dagbani is not a function of demographics but of heritage and sovereign continuity.” To argue otherwise—by suggesting that demographic shifts or perceived injustices warrant a reconfiguration of traditional authority—is to undermine centuries of carefully preserved governance that predate the colonial and post-colonial state.

Hon. Fuseini’s rhetoric dangerously conflates political participation with cultural succession. The concept of “restorative justice,” admirable in transitional justice settings, is misplaced here. The Bawku Naaba, Naa Alhaji Seidu Abagre, was not appointed at a political rally or selected by public vote. He was enskinned by the Nayiri—spiritually, ritually, and constitutionally—within Mamprugu’s traditional frameworks, which remain valid and authoritative.

If one were to apply Hon. Fuseini’s logic, it would raise uncomfortable questions across northern Ghana. Should the Yaa Naa relinquish traditional authority over Konkomba- majority areas in eastern Dagbon? Should demographic dominance override historical legitimacy? These hypotheticals, though absurd, expose the flaw in his reasoning. As Jean Rouch and other political anthropologists have argued, African chieftaincy institutions are not relics of the past, but living systems of authority and identity. To destabilise them through modern political frameworks is to invite chaos.

Moreover, Hon. Fuseini’s comments are not innocuous musings; they are inflammatory and potentially destabilising. The Bawku conflict is not a theoretical debate—it is a flashpoint of ethnic tensions, historical grievances, and contested authority. When a respected Dagomba elder casts doubt on the Nayiri’s authority, he inadvertently legitimises secessionist narratives that challenge Mamprugu’s sovereignty.

Even more ironic is the fact that Hon. Fuseini farms on Mamprugu lands—reaping the benefits of its peace, order, and fertility—while using national platforms to undermine the very institution that safeguards that stability. As a Mamprusi proverb wisely cautions, “You do not eat from someone’s house and break their calabash.”

Let it be stated unequivocally: Bawku is not just a geographical space—it is a spiritual and political frontier of Mamprugu, safeguarded for centuries by enskinned royals acting under the authority of the Nayiri. The Mamprusi royals in Bawku are not autonomous or self-styled chieftains; they are emissaries of a recognised traditional sovereign. To question their legitimacy is to question the Nayiri himself.

We call upon Hon. Inusah Fuseini to reflect on the broader implications of his words. As an elder, a Dagomba, and a bearer of traditional authority, he must rise above political echo chambers and return to the ancestral wisdom to shape his own leadership. He must remember that the legacy of Gbewaa is not for political bargaining—it is a sacred trust.

As Chinua Achebe once warned, “When tradition is disregarded, things fall apart.” We therefore urge all well-meaning northerners—regardless of party or ethnicity—to resist the creeping politicisation of chieftaincy. Let us uphold the values that have bound us through centuries of change: reverence for tradition, truth in public discourse, and loyalty to the institutions that define our collective identity.

Let the record stand: the Bawku chieftaincy is a matter of heritage, not a political compromise. The authority of the Nayiri is not subject to televised negotiation. And any attempt to distort this reality, especially from within the Gbewaa family, is not only misguided—it is an affront to our sovereignty.