When the Buyers Walk Away: A Story of Lepers, Fish and the EC

Three hungry lepers once went to the market to buy foodstuffs. They arrived at a stall where a woman sold fish and vegetables, and a crowd of customers was already waiting. The lepers joined the queue and waited for their turn, but their turn never came; the woman served people who arrived long after them and looked straight through them as though they were not there. Irked, the lepers resolved to scuttle her business. They forced their way into the stall and began touching the foodstuffs with their severed fingers, chanting 'Ye tapo, tapo' through their noses in unison. Away bus. The customers scattered, and no one would buy food touched by lepers. The woman stood alone among her fish and vegetables, ruined by a simple act of contact.

That story, dear citizens, is not really about lepers, or fish, or even market women. It is about the power of touch to render a thing untouchable. And it brings us, as it must, to matters of national interest.

In 2023, Opana appointed three known activists of the Elephant Family to the EC. Please do not get me wrong; I mean the Economic Commission. I do not want any trouble. This triggered widespread controversy and criticism from many Ghanaians, including civil society organisations, who argued that partisan figures compromise the neutrality, integrity, and public trust of an independent body. Before this, Opana had appointed Madam Kalamacho, another perceived member of the Elephant Family, as the overall boss.

Fast forward to 2026, and the Eye Za family appointed one person to the EC, perceived to be their family member. Chai, noise everywhere. Members of the Elephant Family are demanding the new appointee resign, while others say it is four against one and that the Eye Za family should simply add three more to balance the equation. As though neutrality were arithmetic, and the commission a seesaw that stays level so long as each side carries equal weight of partisanship.

But like the lepers, a group of citizens is angry, and what they are saying is: walahi talahi, ye b3 tapo, tapo. They want all five politically tainted appointees to resign. They understand what the market woman did not: that some things cannot be untouched. That trust, once fingered by the wrong hands, does not wash clean. The lepers did not need to eat the fish; they only needed to touch it. And so it is with a commission that must count our destiny and announce our future. The moment the public sees whose fingers have been on it, the buyers walk away, and no amount of balancing the numbers brings them back.

The woman lost a day’s sales. We stand to lose something far more expensive. So when the crowd chants ye tapo, tapo, do not mistake it for noise. It is the sound of customers refusing to buy what has been touched, and it is the most honest market signal there is.

Anthony Obeng Afrane