Are We Gambling with Our Social Protection System? A Deep Dive into Ghana’s Public Transport Crisis

Fellow Ghanaians, have we become indifferent gamblers with the very social protection net that should shield the most vulnerable among us? If you’ve ever squeezed into one of our battered public buses, you’ll know the system is riddled with countless ills — blatant disregard for passenger rights, comfort, safety and plain value for money. Those with the power to fix it rarely ride those creaking vehicles, so hope feels thin on the ground. Look at our aviation sector. Strict international standards force relentless improvement, yet the roads, the lifeline for the majority, seem resigned to perpetual neglect.

I must tell you about a particular ride on the Kumasi‑Bechem highway that seared itself into my memory. Absorbed in my phone, I failed to notice a young mother, fresh from the hospital after a Caesarean delivery, clutching her newborn as she boarded the crowded tro-tro. She let out a pained shout that cut through the din. The driver kept pushing through potholes, bumps and ramps as if nothing had happened. The woman, visibly distressed and in obvious agony, stayed silent. That silence was born of being numbed by endless, unavoidable pain from a system that offers little protection to the weak. I couldn’t stay quiet. “Driver, please stop the bus!” I barked, half commanding, half pleading. The driver finally halted near MOGPA, bewildered perhaps by the sudden command from a loudmouth passenger. Fellow travellers sprang into quiet solidarity, making space for her to shuffle to the front seats.

That scene revealed a bitter truth. Many of our fellow citizens have become accustomed to suffering because there’s no viable alternative. When you’ve been over‑schooled but under‑educated, the easy, though selfish, thought is to retreat into private cars. True education, however, compels us to look beyond personal convenience. Not everyone can afford a car, and cars alone will never mend broken roads or reform a broken system.

What propelled earlier generations to where they are today differs starkly from what today’s youth need to climb the same ladder. We are fighting battles our parents never faced, yet they either built or failed to build the institutional scaffolding we now inherit. Those of us who’ve had the privilege of knowing better must channel that knowledge into concrete action: demanding stricter regulations, humane transport standards, and policies that genuinely protect the vulnerable.

Just before I would finish writing, we passed an accident scene of a bus and a Sprinter vehicle (see cover picture). According to accounts of some passengers, the driver of the Sprinter bus missed his lane. The attempt by the bus driver to avoid a head-on collision led him to eventually skid off the road into the nearby bush, uprooting trees and every plantation on its way. One passenger narrated an ordeal with the said driver of the Sprinter bus, who was reported to be in a critical condition. According to the passenger, the driver (as far as he knew) was inexperienced and careless, per his last experience travelling with him. He confirmed my constant fears of travelling in those Sprinter buses. Another passenger expressed her gratitude to God for saving the accident victims. And I pitied God. I felt sorry for the burdens we have been placing on God, who has given us the free will to do/undo almost everything. We have elected to do what we needn't do and neglected what's needful.

If we’re honest, we’ll admit that the “normal” we’ve accepted on our roads is not normal at all. It’s a choice to tolerate sub‑par conditions when better alternatives are possible. Let’s rouse our collective conscience. Let’s insist on dignified public transport and extend our privilege to lift the many who cannot lift themselves out of these grinding hardships. Only then will we stop gambling with the social protection system that should safeguard every Ghanaian.