Author: Kay Codjoe, Market Research Consultant and Volunteer Associate at the IMANI Centre for Policy and Education

There is something more dangerous than open theft. It is a normalized loss. Year after year, we gather reports, nod gravely, and move on. But the 2025 State Ownership Report forces a harder reckoning.

The numbers are not abstract. They are not theoretical inefficiencies. They are a mirror. In 2024 alone, the Electricity Company of Ghana (ECG) recorded losses of GH₵8.255 billion. The Ghana Cocoa Board (COCOBOD) followed with GH₵4.057 billion in losses.

The Ghana Water Company Limited (GWCL) posted GH₵3.848 billion in losses. The Tema Oil Refinery (TOR) lost GH₵1.544 billion. The Volta River Authority (VRA) recorded GH₵569 million in losses. That is not misfortune. That is structural decay.

And the pattern is not new. Performance trends from 2016 to 2024 show repeated red years. ECG oscillated between brief profit and sustained loss, but has largely remained in the red since 2021.

COCOBOD showed a short green recovery in 2019 and again in 2023, yet reverted to loss in 2024. GWCL was profitable between 2016 and 2018 but has recorded losses consistently from 2019 onward.

TOR has been red almost without interruption. VRA experienced recovery years between 2019 and 2021 and again in 2023, yet slid back into loss in 2024. This is not a one year accident. It is a chronic governance crisis.

What does GH₵8.2 billion lost at ECG mean? It means power consumers paying more while the utility weakens. It means debts compounding across the energy sector. It means public frustration converted into tariffs.

What does GH₵4 billion lost at COCOBOD mean? It means cocoa farmers trapped between global price volatility and local mismanagement narratives. It means syndicated borrowing under pressure. It means political theatre around farmer pricing while structural inefficiencies persist.

What does GH₵3.8 billion lost at GWCL mean? It means citizens buying sachet water in a country blessed with rivers. It means leakages literal and financial. It means infrastructure deferred.

And TOR? For decades, the refinery has symbolized unrealized industrial ambition. The numbers now confirm what citizens feel instinctively. It is a national asset operating below national expectations.

This is where the “devil we know” becomes clear. It is not one party. It is not one administration. It is the comfort with which we accept recurring loss in entities that are supposed to anchor development.

Losses at this scale affect the macroeconomy. They inflate contingent liabilities. They burden public debt. They undermine investor confidence. They distort fiscal planning. Every cedi lost at a state enterprise is either borrowed, taxed, or postponed into future generations.

Yet the conversation often reduces itself to partisan blame. That is too easy. The data shows multi-year patterns across administrations. Structural governance, board competence, procurement discipline, tariff realism, political interference, revenue leakage, and operational inefficiency must all be examined without fear or favour.

The deeper crisis is cultural. We normalize red ink. We debate personalities while balance sheets deteriorate. We attack critics instead of interrogating systems.

But citizens are not powerless spectators. When we demand transparency in State Ownership Reports, we are voting. When we insist on board accountability, we are voting. When we question tariff increases against performance records, we are voting. The ballot is not a bullet, but it can determine whether loss becomes legacy or lesson.

The 2025 report is not merely financial data. It is a referendum on how we manage collective wealth. If GH₵8.2 billion can evaporate in one year at ECG, then governance reform cannot be cosmetic.

If COCOBOD swings between profit and loss in cycles tied to policy shocks, then financial engineering must give way to structural discipline. If GWCL cannot sustain profitability beyond three consecutive years, then operational reform must move beyond slogans.

We are nearing a fiscal point of exhaustion where inefficiency is no longer affordable. The question is not whether losses occurred. The data confirms they did. The question is whether we continue to treat them as seasonal inconvenience or existential warning.

Somewhere beneath the spreadsheets lies a simpler truth. These enterprises belong to the people. Their failure is collective loss. Their reform must be collective demand.

The most important election remains in the conscience of citizens. Whether we reward competence or tolerate collapse. Whether we ask hard questions or retreat into partisan comfort. Because the devil we know is not invincible. It survives only when indifference feeds it. And indifference is one luxury Ghana can no longer afford.