Sometime in December 2025, the State commenced criminal proceedings against Mr. Bernard Antwi Boasiako, popularly known as Chairman Wontumi, the Managing Director of Akonta Mining Limited and who is also the Ashanti Regional Chairman of the opposition New Patriotic Party (NPP), together with two other accused persons- Kwame Antwi (At Large) and Akonta Mining Company Limited and
Among other offences, the accused were charged with assigning mineral rights without the requisite ministerial approval, contrary to Section 14(1) and Section 99(2)(b) of the Minerals and Mining Act, 2006 (Act 703), as amended by Section 3 of the Minerals and Mining (Amendment) Act, 2019 (Act 995). They were also charged with purposely facilitating an unlicensed mining operation, contrary to Section 99(2)(b) of Act 703, as amended by Act 995.
Following a trial that lasted less than a year, the court delivered its judgment, finding the accused guilty on all counts. Consequently, Mr. Boasiako was convicted and sentenced to twenty years’ imprisonment with hard labour, together with the other penalties imposed.
Arguably, few judicial decisions in recent times have generated as much public debate as the conviction of Mr. Bernard Antwi Boasiako. The judgment has sharply divided political actors, legal commentators and the public. To some, the decision reflects the State’s determination to confront the growing menace of illegal mining and to demonstrate that no individual is beyond the reach of the law. To others, however, the judgment raises important questions regarding the sufficiency of the evidence, the interpretation of the applicable provisions of the Minerals and Mining Act, and the legal reasoning underpinning the conviction. Those issues will almost certainly be scrutinized by the Court of Appeal.
My purpose for writing this is neither to defend nor condemn the conviction itself. That responsibility now lies with the appellate courts. Rather, I wish to draw attention to one aspect of the judgment that extends beyond the immediate case and has profound implications for Ghana’s agricultural sector.
As someone who has spent years studying agricultural economics and who actively invests in farming, I was struck by one aspect of the court’s reasoning concerning the reclamation of degraded land and the proposed establishment of a coconut plantation under a share-cropping arrangement.
From my reading of the judgment, the court inferred, from the absence of financial support by the holder of the mineral right for the reclamation exercise, that the arrangement was unlikely to have been genuinely intended for agricultural investment. Instead, the court treated this circumstance as supporting an inference that illegal mining was expected to finance the reclamation activities.
Whether that inference is legally sustainable is ultimately a matter for the appellate courts. However, from the perspective of Ghana’s agricultural economy, it raises an equally important question: Does such reasoning adequately reflect the realities of agricultural investment and customary land-access arrangements in Ghana?
I respectfully submit that it does not.
Across the forest and transition zones of Ghana—from Atiwa to Seikwa, from Atebubu to Sefwi, from Konfokrom to the Dompim, thousands of agricultural investments begin under arrangements almost identical in structure to the one described in the judgment.
Under customary share-cropping systems, the landowner often contributes little more than access to land. The investor contributes the labour, capital, technical expertise and years of maintenance required before any returns are made. This arrangement is neither unusual nor exceptional; it is one of the foundations upon which Ghana’s perennial crop economy has developed.
This is particularly true for cocoa, coconut, oil palm, rubber and cashew production.
A cocoa investor, for example, may spend between five and seven years clearing land, rehabilitating degraded fields, purchasing seedlings, planting shade trees, replacing dead seedlings, controlling weeds, applying fertilizers and managing pests before receiving the first meaningful harvest. Throughout this period, the landowner may contribute no cash whatsoever, yet both parties understand that the eventual harvest will be shared according to their agreement.
This practice is so widespread that it constitutes one of the best-known features of Ghana’s customary land tenure system. Many of these agreements are not reduced into formal written contracts. They survive because of long-established customary norms, mutual trust and community recognition.
Against this background, treating the absence of upfront financial contribution by the landowner as evidence that an agricultural investment was not genuinely intended risks overlooking the economic realities of farming in Ghana.
Agriculture is fundamentally different from most commercial ventures.
It demands large upfront investment, long gestation periods and significant uncertainty. Investors commit substantial resources for years before earning any return. That is precisely why agricultural finance remains one of the most challenging areas of banking worldwide.
Indeed, the difficulty of financing agriculture is not unique to Ghana. Across developing economies, governments establish specialized agricultural banks because conventional commercial lending often struggles to accommodate the long investment horizons and high risks associated with farming.
Ironically, this reality is reflected even within our own financial system. Institutions specifically established to finance agriculture have historically allocated significant portions of their loan portfolios outside agriculture, partly because agricultural investments are perceived as high-risk, slow-yielding and difficult to collateralize.
If financial institutions themselves recognize the unique economics of agriculture, judicial reasoning should equally be informed by those realities whenever agricultural investment forms part of the factual matrix before the court.
The concern is not merely academic.
If future courts adopt a similar line of reasoning without careful appreciation of customary agricultural investment practices, legitimate share-cropping arrangements could inadvertently become vulnerable to suspicion simply because the landowner did not provide capital for land development.
That would represent an unfortunate departure from centuries of customary agricultural practice.
To illustrate the point, suppose a landowner grants degraded land to an investor under a customary agreement to reclaim it and establish a cocoa plantation on a future profit-sharing basis. The landowner contributes only the land, while the investor undertakes all reclamation and development costs.
If the investor subsequently commits an unrelated illegality to raise capital, should that illegality automatically be inferred to have been intended or authorised by the landowner merely because the landowner did not finance the project?
Surely not.
Such an inference requires evidence connecting the landowner to the unlawful conduct. The mere existence of a share-cropping arrangement, without more, should not transform a legitimate agricultural investment model into circumstantial evidence of criminal intent.
This distinction is critical.
Otherwise, the legal reasoning risks unintentionally redefining one of Ghana’s most common agricultural production systems as inherently suspicious whenever degraded land is involved.
That would have consequences extending far beyond this individual case.
The broader lesson from this judgment is that our institutions—including our courts, financial sector and public policy framework—must deepen their understanding of the economics of agricultural investment.
Judicial education should increasingly incorporate agricultural economics and customary land tenure where disputes involve farming, natural resources and rural investment. Expert testimony should not merely describe farming practices but should assist courts in appreciating the economic logic underpinning long-term agricultural investments beyond the formal sector.Finally, this moment should encourage a broader national conversation about how Ghana values agriculture.
Too often, agriculture is viewed as a venture of last resort rather than a serious investment requiring patience, capital and sophisticated management. Yet history teaches the opposite. It is long-term investment in agriculture—not the quick returns of resource extraction—that has sustained rural livelihoods, generated export earnings and built enduring national wealth.
The appellate process now provides an opportunity not only to review the legal issues arising from this case but also to enrich our national jurisprudence on agricultural investment and customary land tenure.
Whatever one’s political persuasion, that should be welcomed. For Ghana’s future depends not merely on punishing environmental crime but equally on ensuring that our legal reasoning strengthens, rather than inadvertently weakens, confidence in legitimate agricultural investment.
If we are serious about transforming agriculture into a pillar of economic growth, our laws, our financial institutions and our jurisprudence must all speak the same language—one that recognises agriculture not as an irrational enterprise, but as a patient investment whose returns, though slow, remain among the most enduring forms of wealth a nation can cultivate.
By Dr. Zuobog Philip Neri
Agricultural Economist | Food Security and Rural Development Specialist | Practicing Farmer | Cocoa Sector Expert
