By the time the Office of the Special Prosecutor (OSP) called me to court again this year, I had already spent a year and a half helping prosecute the former Public Procurement Authority boss, Adjenim Boateng Adjei. I had testified, been cross-examined, and watched the case inch along. Then, without warning, the OSP dropped all 18 charges, only to re-file eight of them months later. Nothing meaningful had changed. The case was starting from scratch. And yet the prosecution appeared weaker than before.
My review of the original and “fresh” charges raised more questions than answers. Every count on the new charge sheet already appeared on the old one. Not a single new offence had been added. Instead, the strongest charge backed by the CHRAJ report — that the former CEO directly influenced a procurement process — had vanished. No one at the OSP could explain why. Not the Director of Prosecution, not the case lawyer, not even the Special Prosecutor when I confronted him. All three admitted, in different ways, that they lacked basic information about a case they were supposedly ready to prosecute.
Worse, the OSP’s claim of a “fresh investigation” did not stand up to scrutiny. The lawyer handling the case said no new money had been discovered in the accused’s bank accounts. She also said she had never seen the boxes of evidence CHRAJ says it handed over years ago. The Special Prosecutor himself later conceded that he had now ordered a new investigation — meaning no real investigative work had been done before either set of charges was filed.
This pattern fits a broader problem I have observed up close. The OSP relied almost entirely on my investigative documentary and CHRAJ’s report, without conducting its own rigorous criminal investigation. It even failed to submit my documentary to the court, presenting a faulty pen drive instead. The court admitted it only after defence objections. Days later, the OSP abruptly dropped all charges. If the prosecutors believed the case was “hollow”, as the OSP’s Director of Strategy would later claim online, why did they prosecute it for two years?
Meanwhile, the office did not “follow the money” despite clear leads. CHRAJ had already established unexplained cash deposits far exceeding the former CEO’s salary. None of this featured in the OSP’s charges. The justification offered is that the OSP “did not know what he used the money for.” That is precisely why one investigates.
After months of seeking answers, the Special Prosecutor repeatedly asked for more time. Weeks passed, then a month, then more, with no explanation for the dropped charges, the missing evidence, or the stalled investigations. Now he suggests he may drop and re-file yet again — a third restart in a case that began in 2019. That would mean every witness, including those already exhausted by years of proceedings, would be dragged back to square one.
At some point, public duty becomes an exercise in futility. I am already a witness in other cases, including two defamation suits and a criminal matter arising from another investigation. My life cannot revolve around an endlessly recycled trial, especially when the prosecuting authority itself appears unwilling or unprepared to move it forward.
This is not about hostility from judges. The trial judge in this matter demonstrated fairness and professionalism. Almost all prosecution evidence was admitted. My testimony stood up under cross-examination. The judiciary is not the problem here.
What is troubling is the OSP’s growing tendency to excuse avoidable failures with rhetoric. When its own senior official publicly claims the trial is “only now beginning”, despite two years of hearings on record, it is clear that something is amiss. When he admits the office relied solely on a journalist’s work to proceed to court, he inadvertently confirms the very weakness I had complained about. This is not how a law-enforcement body should function.
I have supported the OSP since its inception. I still believe Ghana needs such an institution. But an institution that mishandles evidence, restarts prosecutions without explanation, and fails to conduct its own investigations must be held to account. The Special Prosecutor may yet finish his term without this case ever reaching the stage where the accused is asked to open his defence. That should trouble every Ghanaian.
I refused to testify again because this case has become a revolving door. It wastes public resources, disrespects witnesses, and undermines public confidence. If the OSP is unwilling to confront its own failures, then we must. Otherwise, the Office of the Special Prosecutor risks becoming something else entirely: the Office of Special Excuses.
