Last week, Accra flooded again. Kaneshie Market was a river. Odawna traffic sat in three feet of water. A 12-year-old boy drowned at Alajo. NADMO said it was “unexpected rains.”
Three days later, the state announced a National Day of Prayer and Thanksgiving. Ministers in white. Bishops on stage. The theme: “God, heal our land.”
Meanwhile, the drains at Circle are still choked with pure water sachets. The buildings on waterways at Tse Addo have permits signed by the Assembly. The contractors who took money to dredge the Odaw in 2023 never finished the job.
So we pray.
What caused the flood
Let’s be honest. The flood was not a mystery. It was not an act of God. It was an act of men.
1. Corruption: The Ministry of Works and Housing budgeted GH¢450 million for drainage in 2024. The Auditor-General found GH¢62 million had “no documentation.” The Odaw dredging contract went to a company that owned one excavator. The rest were rented after the rains started.
2. Lawlessness: The Accra Metropolitan Assembly has demolished structures on waterways every June for 10 years. Every January, they go back up. In 2025, AMA issued 47 stop-work orders at Weija. 43 were ignored. No prosecutions followed.
3. Dirty habits, dirty city: Zoomlion lifts refuse at 5 a.m. By 8 a.m., traders at Makola have filled the same gutters with corn husks and plastic. In 2023, the Sanitation Ministry spent GH¢200 million on bins. Most are now used to store water or charcoal.
We know this. We have reports, committees, and task forces to prove it. We do not learn from our mistakes. And when disaster comes, we blame the rain.
Prayer is not a drainage plan
There is nothing wrong with prayer. Ghana is a religious country. Churches and mosques are full every week. But prayer without work is what James 2:26 calls “dead.”
Noah did not hold a crusade when the flood came. He built an ark. Nehemiah did not organize a 21-day fast to fix Jerusalem’s wall. He got stones and set guards.
The state cannot outsource to God what Article 36(9) of the Constitution assigns to it: “The State shall take appropriate measures to protect and safeguard the national environment for posterity.”
A National Prayer Day does not unclog drains. It does not prosecute the engineer who approved a building in a wetland. It does not punish the household that dumps waste into Korle Lagoon.
God, in most teachings, punishes people who are dirty and who do not learn from their mistakes. Proverbs 29:1 says, “He who is often reproved, yet stiffens his neck, will suddenly be broken beyond healing.” Accra has been reproved every June since 1968. We stiffen our necks and buy more microphones for the prayer grounds.
The real priority list
If the state wants to heal the land, here is what thanksgiving looks like:
1. Jail, not just pray: In 2015, after the June 3rd flood and fire killed 152 people, a committee named officials and firms responsible. Nine years later, no one is in jail. Start there. Corruption that kills is not a misdemeanor.
2. Demolish without fear or favor: The buildings in waterways belong to pastors, politicians, and ordinary traders. The law does not check names. If AMA cannot enforce its own permits, dissolve the planning committee and surcharge them.
3. Make dirt expensive: Rwanda fines you $100 for littering. Singapore fines $300. In Accra, the fine is GH¢60 and nobody pays. Put CCTV at flood hotspots. Publish the names of offenders weekly. Shame works where sermons fail.
4. Audit the prayers: The 2026 National Prayer Day budget was GH¢1.2 million. That could dredge 3km of the Odaw. If we must pray, do it in the chapel and use the money for excavators. God listens either way.
We have been here before
2011: Floods. Government declares “National Fasting and Prayers.”
2015: Floods and fire. Government declares “Three Days of Mourning and Prayer.”
2020: Floods. Government holds “Virtual Prayer Summit.”
2026: Floods. Government sets “National Day of Prayer and Thanksgiving.”
The only thing that has improved is the stage design.
The capital deserves better
Accra is not just the capital. It is the home of Parliament, Flagstaff House, and the Bank of Ghana. When it floods, the country’s economy sits in traffic. Investors take photos of the water and move the meeting to Abidjan.
A serious country does not meet a man-made disaster with a man-made programme of songs. It meets it with bylaws, bulldozers, and court dates.
Pray if you must. But after the “Amen,” pick up a shovel. Arrest the contractor. Fine the landlord. Teach the child not to throw plastic in the drain.
Because the rain will come again. And heaven helps those who help themselves, not those who dredge only with tongues.
Ghana is a funny country. The joke stops being funny when people die.
Alexander Afriyie, supervising editor, Ghanacrimereport.com and Ghanatalk.com See less