Even When You Dance in Water: The Politics of Perception in Ghana

There is an African proverb that says, “Even when you are dancing in water, your enemies will accuse you of throwing dust.” This timeless truth captures a deep reality about human perception—especially in politics, where even genuine effort and good intentions are often met with suspicion. In Ghana’s journey from independence to modern democracy, this truth has played out repeatedly. From the days of Dr. Kwame Nkrumah’s independence vision to the alternating rule of the NDC and NPP, every leader’s step, no matter how noble, has been misinterpreted by opponents who prefer to see dust rather than dance.

When Nkrumah led Ghana to independence in 1957, he dreamed of transforming the new nation into a beacon of progress. His projects—the Akosombo Dam, Tema Harbour, VALCO, and the Tema Township—were bold steps towards industrialisation and self-sufficiency. These developments were not just buildings; they were symbols of national pride and continental ambition. Yet, even as Nkrumah danced in the clear waters of nation-building, his opponents accused him of throwing dust. They called him extravagant, autocratic, and power-drunk. The same Akosombo Dam that lights our homes and powers our industries today was once mocked as wasteful. Time has proven that the dust was only in the eyes of those who refused to see his vision.

After Nkrumah’s overthrow, every government that followed faced the same pattern of perception and attack. Dr. K. A. Busia was accused of elitism even as he tried to liberalise the economy. General Acheampong’s Operation Feed Yourself was dismissed as populist despite its success in promoting local farming. Flight Lieutenant Jerry John Rawlings came with revolutionary zeal to cleanse corruption and restore discipline, yet even his efforts drew fear, misunderstanding, and division. Each leader, in their own way, tried to dance for Ghana’s progress, but the chorus of critics never stopped crying “dust.”

With the birth of the Fourth Republic in 1992, Ghana finally found stability. Yet, the rivalry between the NDC and NPP became another dance where perception often overshadowed performance. The NDC under Jerry Rawlings, John Atta Mills, and John Mahama expanded infrastructure, built schools and hospitals, and initiated key national projects. But their critics accused them of corruption and waste. The NPP, from John Kufuor to Nana Addo Dankwa Akufo-Addo, introduced policies such as Free SHS, One District One Factory, and massive digitalisation drives, yet opponents called them reckless or deceptive. Each side sees the other’s water dance as dust throwing. This endless cycle of suspicion has created a political culture where appreciation is rare and condemnation comes easily, often leading to negative consequences for national development.

One of the most harmful effects of this attitude is that important projects of successive governments are sometimes left incomplete or ignored—not because they lack merit, but because they were initiated by a political rival. Schools remain half-built, roads fall into disrepair, and social programmes collapse, resulting in a direct loss to the state and to citizens who rely on them. This kind of partisanship undermines progress and continuity, wasting public resources and slowing the very development that every administration claims to pursue.

Political communicators have further shaped this climate. On the NPP side, articulate figures such as Nana Akomea, Kojo Oppong Nkrumah, and Richard Ahiagbah have defended government actions and projected its policies with vigour. On the NDC side, vibrant spokespersons such as Sammy Gyamfi, Felix Kwakye Ofosu, and Samuel Okudzeto Ablakwa have consistently challenged government decisions and interpreted national events through the lens of opposition. These communicators are the interpreters of our national story—each telling it from their chosen perspective. Some enlighten, some inflame—but together, they reflect how political communication in Ghana has become both an art of persuasion and a weapon of perception.

The time has come for our political leaders to reflect deeply on this proverb. Enough of the endless bickering. Enough of the constant suspicion. Enough of the politics of insults, propaganda, and personal attacks. Enough of the selfish struggle for credit when what matters is collective progress. Ghana’s democracy is mature enough for cooperation, not confrontation. The nation’s development must not be the casualty of political rivalry.

A school built by one government remains a blessing to all. A road paved under another administration still carries every citizen, regardless of party. When a government plants trees, the next should water them—not uproot them in the name of pride. True patriotism is not about who did it, but that it was done for Ghana. Let every politician understand that leadership is service, not spectacle. It is a duty to dance gracefully in the water of national responsibility without minding those who shout “dust.” Our people deserve results, not rivalry; unity, not unnecessary division. The Akosombo Dam still reminds us that vision endures beyond the voices of doubt. The Volta River continues to flow—calm but powerful—proving that purpose outlives politics.

So to every Ghanaian politician, whether NDC or NPP, in government or opposition, this must be the lesson: dance sincerely, lead honestly, and serve selflessly. But above all, let this generation say with one voice—enough of the bitterness, enough of the blame, enough of the politics that divides rather than builds, and enough of leaving important national projects to languish simply because of partisan rivalry. Ghana deserves leaders who will dance in the water together, continue worthwhile projects, and ensure that progress benefits all citizens, not just those who happen to be in power.