Ghana/Nigeria: The Ghosts of 1969/1983 Are Back

Dear Xenophobic TikTokers of Ghana,
Permit me, for once, to descend from my self-imposed Olympus of Pan-African commentary and address you directly — yes, you: the bored, angry, uneducated, underemployed custodians of smartphone cameras who, in the absence of meaningful employment, have found fulfilment in filming yourself blaming Nigerians for the price of Kelewele.

You, who suffer neither the burdens of history nor the weight of introspection. Yes, you whose brain is too minuscule to handle stuff like coding and can only spew kwasea sem for like on Facebook while your colleagues are making serious money running their own ICT business. I am talking about you, with your sub-zoological intelligence that can only spew aboa sem on TikTok to earn pennies while your age-mates are in boardrooms.

Yes, I mean you, who believe a Yoruba woman selling tomatoes in Makola is the reason your government cannot provide water after almost seventy years of ostensible independence. You, who think that the Igbo trader at the Circle is the reason you failed your WASSCE and not that you copied from another dullard. You who can't trace your ancestry back three generations, even if your life depends on it.

A question for you: can you recite a single line of your family’s panegyric?

Congratulations to you. You have managed to resurrect the ghost of 1969 — that same rancid spectre that compelled the successors of our beloved Kwame Nkrumah, in a fit of neocolonial economic diarrhea and populist indigestion, to chase out Nigerians from the shores of Ghana like stray goats.

And lo, your long-lost cousins in Nigeria returned the favour with biblical vengeance in 1983.

And what did we all gain? Broken families, burnt businesses, destroyed dreams, and the enduring smell of burnt egos that still linger in our politics like the scent of some cheap cologne at a funeral.

But before we delve into the annals of your freshly revived amnesia, here's a quick assignment — don’t worry, it will neither hurt nor kill you: Google “Makola Market.”

Yes, that bustling economic heartbeat of Accra, where your mothers, sisters, cousins, and part-time girlfriends scream at each other over the price of smoked fish.

That same Makola? Yoruba origins. Yes, dear TikTok historians, the very market you think belongs exclusively to Ghanaians was helped to life by those same “aliens” you now want deported.

Yoruba women — God bless their tribal marks, headscarves, and superior bargaining tactics — were among the original commercial engines of Makola and Ghana.

Long before you discovered TikTok filters and xenophobic hashtags, Yoruba people were hauling pepper, fabric, and sense into your economy - sense that is, unfortunately, in shorter supply now.

What do you think Alata means?
So the next time you take your cheap Android phone to shoot a 30-second clip about “Nigerians taking our jobs,” perhaps remember that some of your grandmothers learned to count in Yoruba long before they heard Twi in the market. The market didn’t discriminate, but you do.

How very progressive of you.
How about the Hausas? Let's discuss them briefly to educate you and increase your knowledge.

You may not like it, but the Hausas have been in Ghana longer than Twitter or TikTok has existed. These men brought kola nut trading, cow herding, Islamic education, and something called humility into your society.

You see their modest mosques and little businesses, and you think “foreigner.” But I think “foundation.”

The Hausa presence in Ghana predates your colonial borders. They didn’t come with Ghana Must Go bags. They came with camels, trade, and prayer beads. They didn’t colonize you — they coexisted. Unlike your present-day politicians, who need IMF loans to buy toilet paper or sanitation pads for our girls, the Hausas brought something tangible to the table.

But today, you want them gone. Why? Because they dare to sell meat better than you?

Now, asking you to read any book apart from your Lotto Paper is like offering calculus to a goat, but humor me.

The Ewes and Yorubas — yes, those same Yorubas you love to hate — share deep linguistic and cultural roots.

Have you ever heard of Ketu? No, it’s not a brand of weed, fool. It is an ancient Yoruba town in present-day Benin, central to Yoruba and Ewe history.

The bloodlines and dialects don’t lie — you do.

Before you open your mouth to spew another xenophobic verbiage, go to Aflao and ask the Chief where his ancestral boundary begins.

Yorubas and Ewes people share festivals, music styles, deities, and culinary practices. If you squint hard enough (or, God forbid, study), you’d see the undeniable genetic handshake between both groups. Here are a few words you find in both Ewe and Yoruba:

Ewe Yoruba English
Ku Ku Death
Agbo Agbo Ram
Ape Ope Thanks
Ifa Ifa Divinity
Of course, the TikTok University, where you get your education, didn’t offer African anthropology as an elective, right?

That is why we try to help you.
Suppose you bothered to dig into real history instead of digital tribalism. In that case, you’d realize you’re fighting your cousins over who sells onions in a market in Tamale or Asian-made phone accessories at Circle.

After a hard-fought diplomatic battle, Ghana was selected to host the African Continental Free Trade Area (AfCFTA) Secretariat. A massive continental opportunity walked into Accra and said, “Build pan-African trade here!”

And what have you done since? Like an affronted Old Testament Patriarch whose children have disobeyed Jehovah, you go and make TikTok videos that threaten to deport the traders and entrepreneurs who can make it work?

You are too mentally lazy to see and grasp an opportunity with both hands.

While your fellow Africans are cranking brains and training hard in logistics, coding, law, shipping, and language skills to take advantage of AfCFTA, your idea of contribution is to shout “Go back to Nigeria!” into a camera for a TikTok click.

Is that parody the best you can do for yourself?

Real people build skills and develop themselves to function anywhere without fear of competition. And real nations build trade routes, not tribal feuds.

Instead of boning up on your education and skills, you’ve chosen the path of inherited stupidity. Apart from your good repertoire of xenophobic verbiage, what can you contribute to the development of Ghana or Africa?

Remember the legendary deportations? No? Let’s refresh your memory:

In 1969, Ghana expelled over 3 million so-called “aliens,” mostly Nigerians, in a burst of nationalist flatulence called the Aliens Compliance Order.

The reason? Economic hardship and scapegoating.

Ghana was broke, so naturally, it blamed the people selling you meat and pepper.

In 1983, Nigeria replied in kind by kicking out over 2 million Ghanaians, often violently.

And what did we all get? Broken ties, broken lives, and broken economies.

But who cares about the past, right? It’s not like history repeats itself — except every time a fool gets hold of a phone and some data.

Here’s a revolutionary idea you might consider: it will not kill you. Instead of producing poorly lit, badly edited videos accusing every Nigerian of being a fraudster, try reading.

Education is a dangerous weapon you should try to acquire. I know it is an encumbrance, but give it a try.

Read about the migration of the Yoruba into Ghana before colonial borders. Read about the Hausa influence in your northern towns. Read about Makola. Read about the shared religions, languages, and bloodlines.

Or don’t. Remain ignorant. That way, you’ll never have to confront the uncomfortable fact that the “foreigner” you hate is more Ghanaian than yourself and your fellow xenophobic tribesmen.

Nobody is saying Ghana should be lawless. But that is why every civilized nation has law enforcement agencies. If someone breaks the law, let them face it.

But when your entire economic frustration gets funneled into tribal grunts and digital tantrums to win upticks, you don’t look like patriots — you look like a fool.

The solution to Ghana’s woes is not chasing away Nigerians or foreigners. It is in chasing competence, integrity, and accountability from your government. It asks why your young people would rather dance for views on TikTok than build businesses. It demands fundamental skills, education, and real reform — not real-time tribal jingoism broadcast live.

Until then, kindly take your poorly lit, misinformed TikTok rants and shove them back into the data bundle you wasted in uploading.

Or better still, use that data to Google “Pan-Africanism.” That’s the idea that Africans — yes, all of us—have a shared destiny. One built not on petty tribalism but on economic collaboration, cultural respect, and mutual dignity.

Oops, that file might be too big for your mental bandwidth to handle.

To those who, like you, waste their lives on TikTok, here is a short list of Ghanaians who made it big in Nigeria.

While some of you waste their time launching tired TikTok tirades against Nigeria, real Ghanaians, who are serious, have crossed borders, seized opportunities, and made it BIG in the very country some of you insult for likes on Facebook. Chief Biney built a successful business empire in Nigeria, commanding respect in boardrooms where real influence is brokered—not on live streams filled with cheap insults. He had a Zoo in the Surulere area of Lagos in the 1970s. And who can forget Professor Adadevo, the revered academic whose contributions to Nigeria’s intellectual and scientific circles at the University of Lagos, Akoka, have left a lasting legacy.

In entertainment, names like Majid Michel and Juliet Ibrahim didn’t play the victim card - they played to win, rising to stardom in Nollywood, Africa’s largest film industry. They saw opportunity, not rivalry.

While you cocooned yourself in your single room, filled your heart with tribal hatred, and busied yourself with cooking up tribalist nonsense online, these Ghanaians are building bridges, brands, and bank accounts.

Mr. TikTok warriors, Nigeria is not your enemy—your ignorance is. No one builds greatness through memes and manufactured beef. So drop the ring light, pick up a skill, and emulate those who’ve turned cross-border hustle into legacy.

Success doesn’t care about flags—it rewards vision, grit, and maturity. Stop shouting at Nigerians online. Start learning from them. You’re embarrassing yourself.

Yes, as our Motto proclaims: Stupidity must be destroyed!

Now run along and shout into your ring lights. The rest of us have a continent to build.

(Farmer, Writer, Published Author, Essayist, Satirist, Social Commentator, Polemicist-General of the Pan-African Republic)

My Mission: Stultitia Delenda Est - Stupidity Must be Destroyed!

I am an unapologetic Pan-Africanist who is unconditionally opposed to any form or manifestation of racism, fascism, and discrimination.

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