As December 31 approaches, Ghana holds its breath not in anticipation of celebration alone, but in uneasy silence. For decades, Watchnight services have been filled with dramatic prophecies, ominous warnings, and sensational titles promising spiritual warfare against unseen enemies. Yet this year, something is different. The prophets are quiet. And that silence is louder than any prophecy ever declared.
Every year, December 31 Watchnight services in Ghana mark a defining moment where faith, fear, hope, and spectacle collide. Churches overflow. Streets empty. Television and social media become pulpits. Christians and non-Christians alike tune in, waiting to hear what the “men of God” have seen for the coming year.
From afar, watching developments unfold, I have observed the intense preparations once again underway. Choir rehearsals, all-night vigils, prayer marathons these are familiar. What is unfamiliar, however, is the absence of the loud, dramatic prophecies that have become synonymous with Ghana’s Watchnight culture.
Where are the prophets?
In the past, they came armed with bold declarations. Some foretold election outcomes. Others announced deaths of prominent figures, plane crashes, coups, disasters, and bloodshed. They packaged fear with catchy titles: “Kill the Devil,” “Shoot the Devil,” “Bomb the Devil,” “Roast the Devil,” and other violent metaphors dressed up as spiritual warfare.
On December 31, 2024, many of these same prophets confidently declared that the NPP government would lose the 2024 elections. Indeed, Dr. Mahamudu Bawumia lost, and John Dramani Mahama emerged victorious. That single “accurate” prediction elevated many prophets in the eyes of their followers, reinforcing the dangerous belief that prophecy equals divine authority.
Yet today, as 2026 approaches, there is an unsettling quiet.
No bold declarations.
No dramatic watchnight titles.
No visions about Ghana’s future beyond vague prayers.
This raises serious questions.
If these prophets see so clearly into the future, what are they seeing now? Why has no one come forward to tell Ghanaians what awaits them in 2026? Are there no revelations, or is the risk of being wrong finally outweighing the appetite for attention?
Historically, Watchnight prophecies in Ghana have not merely been spiritual messages, they have shaped national anxiety. Some have sparked panic. Others have damaged reputations. A few have even required police intervention after pastors predicted the deaths of chiefs, musicians, politicians, or public officials.
These so-called prophecies rarely come with accountability. When they fail, excuses are offered. When they succeed by coincidence, they are celebrated as proof of divine insight.
But prophecy without responsibility is not faith, it is manipulation.
As we approach another Watchnight, Ghanaians especially Christians, must pause and reflect. Is Watchnight meant to be a night of hope, gratitude, repentance, and prayer? Or has it become a stage for fear-mongering, sensationalism, and spiritual intimidation?
The Bible itself warns against false prophets, those who speak not from God but from ego, influence, or profit. Yet in Ghana, questioning a prophet is often treated as rebellion against God Himself. This culture of silence has allowed excesses to flourish unchecked.
What makes this year even more telling is that the usual theatrics are missing. No “jump over,” “roll over,” or “burn over” slogans. No dramatic countdown to doom. Perhaps the prophets are recalculating. Or perhaps the nation is slowly waking up.
Faith should unite, not terrify. It should build peace, not anxiety. It should inspire development, not distract from responsibility.
As Ghanaians prepare for December 31 Watchnight, both Christians and non-Christians alike, we must remain discerning. The future of a nation should not be held hostage by unverified visions. Our unity, peace, and progress are too important.
The Ghana Police Service and state institutions must also take this moment seriously. Freedom of worship does not mean freedom to spread fear, misinformation, or psychological harm.
For now, we watch.
We listen.
And we ask the hard questions.
Because sometimes, the absence of prophecy tells a deeper truth than prophecy itself.
Let’s keep watching.