Renowned legal practitioner and constitutional activist Osagyefo Mawuse Oliver Barker-Vormawor has strongly critiqued Ghana’s political evolution, tracing his ideological journey from admiration to deep disillusionment.

His statement, aptly titled “Some Deranged Thoughts”, provided a rare glimpse into the mind of a man who once found inspiration in Ghanaian politics but has now grown wary of its corrosive effects on principles and leadership.

Barker-Vormawor opened with high praise for the opposition New Patriotic Party (NPP) of 1997, led by the late J.H. Mensah.

He described it as “the most effective minority in Parliament” he has ever seen, a force so formidable that within three years, it wrested power from a government that had been in office for nearly two decades.

According to him, this opposition bloc was distinguished not just by its parliamentary engagements but also by its strategic use of the courts and the streets—a multifaceted resistance that deeply shaped his youthful political consciousness while growing up in Akuse.

“Even though towards the 2000 elections, I became more drawn to Goosie Tanoh and Kyeretwie Opoku’s reform party. I was relieved that Jerry was out of power when Kofour won.
“I hated Jerry Rawlings so much that even Ackaah was a hero in my eyes. Kofour’s Government is when I can say I began to really lose faith in Ghana. I couldn’t believe that leadership’s primary interest after we kicked the person they called a dictator out would be such theft and personal aggrandizement”.
Osagyefo Mawuse Oliver Barker Vormawor

Barker-Vormawor’s admiration, however, was not solely directed at politicians. His deepest inspiration came from a journalist—Abdul Malik Kweku Baako.

Though he had never seen him, he was captivated by Baako’s fearless critique of President Rawlings’s regime.

He vividly recalled the moment when then-President Jerry John Rawlings lost his composure after Baako was named Ghana’s Journalist of the Year, a moment that fueled his own desire to wield writing as a tool for accountability.

He also credited political satirist Kwaku Sintim-Misa (KSM) with awakening his appreciation for political comedy and its power to mock the establishment. I wanted to be a comedian—his kind of comic,” he confessed, reflecting on how political humour could serve as a form of resistance.

The Promise of Nana Akufo-Addo and the Bitter Taste of Betrayal

Among his youthful idols was Nana Akufo-Addo, whom he admired for his eloquence and reputation as a human rights lawyer. “We were told he was a freedom fighter,” Barker-Vormawor recalled, though he conceded that, at the time, he knew no specific human rights cases associated with Akufo-Addo.

Yet, this admiration would later curdle into profound disappointment. He described how his early heroes began to falter, particularly during the Kufuor administration, which he saw as a government consumed by “theft and personal aggrandizement.”

His disenchantment deepened as he watched Mr Baako transform from a bold critic into an “apologist” and former President Akufo-Addo prioritize court-packing and judicial interference as Attorney General.

Perhaps the most startling admission in his reflection is his shifting perception of President Rawlings. He asserted that despite his strong dislike for the former military ruler, he began to understand a different side of him with time.

For him, that was not the “democracy Jerry” but the revolutionary leader of 1979, whose initial ideals of justice and accountability now seemed less distant from his own.

This trajectory—from admiration to disillusionment—has left Barker-Vormawor with a deep-seated fear of political power. “To be free we must take power. That much I know. But I am scared of what power does to men,” he confessed.

He wrestled with the question of whether seeking political office or accepting a political appointment in what he called Ghana’s “dysfunction” would serve the public good.

His words capture a broader frustration felt by many Ghanaians who have witnessed the idealism of political actors eroded by power’s temptations.

His statement read less like a rant and more like a profound meditation on the cyclical betrayal of political principles in Ghana’s democratic history.

Barker-Vormawor’s reflections offer a compelling narrative of hope, betrayal, and the existential struggle with power.

This story resonates beyond his personal journey, echoing the disappointments of a generation that has seen its political idols transformed into the very figures they once opposed.

His words are a stark reminder that in Ghanaian politics, the line between heroism and compromise is often blurred. And for those who still believe in change, his question lingers: “Is it possible to wield power without being consumed by it?”