A friend recently sent me a remarkable piece about William Green, the American labour leader who rose from the coal mines to become president of the American Federation of Labor. I read it more than once. Then I began to wonder: Are we not facing our own version of the problem in Ghana? And if we are, where are our William Greens? Where are the labour leaders with the courage to tell governments and employers that there is a limit to how much sacrifice ordinary workers can be expected to make? Where are the voices speaking for the pensioner whose working life has ended but whose struggle for survival continues? Where are the voices speaking for the young graduate posted hundreds of kilometers away on national service, expected to feed, clothe and house himself or herself on a modest allowance? Where are the voices speaking for the teacher in a private basic school who may receive a salary that barely keeps body and soul together? And where are the voices speaking for the filling-station attendant who works around petrol and other hazardous products for wages that, according to reports from the sector, can be extraordinarily low and sometimes irregular? These are not abstract economic questions. They concern human beings.
We did not Start Badly
Perhaps the most important thing we must remind ourselves of is that Ghana did not begin badly. We were not condemned to poverty from the beginning. At independence, Ghana possessed an extraordinary sense of possibility. Under Kwame Nkrumah, industrialization was deliberately placed at the center of national development. The objective was not simply to export cocoa, gold and other raw materials and import finished goods. Ghana was expected to process, manufacture, build and acquire technological capacity.
Recent historical documentation by the Ghana News Agency lists an extraordinary range of industrial enterprises established during the First Republic: State Cannery Corporation at Nsawam, State Cocoa Products Corporation, State Electronic Products Corporation, Glass Manufacturing Corporation, State Textile Manufacturing Corporation, State Paints Corporation, State Footwear Corporation, sugar factories at Komenda and Asutuare, GIHOC pharmaceuticals, vegetable-oil mills, paper-conversion enterprises, refrigeration and household-products factories, the Bonsa Tyre Factory and many others. This was not a country that had decided to remain permanently dependent on imports. It was a country trying to build.
The historical record shows that Ghana’s industrial strategy initially focused heavily on import substitution, producing domestically what had previously been imported. Later, the country moved through liberalization and other policy approaches as economic circumstances changed.
We should not romanticize that period. Some enterprises were inefficient. Some suffered from management problems. Some required heavy state support. Some could not survive changing economic conditions. But the vision was unmistakable. Produce. Process. Manufacture. Employ. Train. Build. That was the Ghanaian dream.
Somewhere along the way, however, we lost the tempo. Political instability, economic crises, policy reversals, macroeconomic problems, management weaknesses and later structural changes all contributed to the decline of industrial capacity. And, yes, greed also became part of the story. When public resources become opportunities for private accumulation, when political office becomes a pathway to privilege, when institutions are weakened by patronage, and when short-term political interests repeatedly take precedence over long-term national planning, productive capacity eventually suffers.
Factories close. Machines become obsolete. Skills disappear. Young people leave. Imports replace domestic production. And the country gradually moves from making things to buying things. That is one of Ghana’s great tragedies. We did not lack ambition. We lost continuity.
Then Came the Worker
But industrialization is not ultimately about factories. It is about people. A factory means workers. A mine means workers. A school means workers. A hospital means workers. A farm means workers. A pension system exists because workers spent their productive years contributing to society. And that brings us back to William Green.
Green was not born into a world of comfortable boardrooms. He began working underground in a coal mine at the age of 16. He knew what hard physical labour meant. He eventually became president of the American Federation of Labor and advocated legislative action to secure workers’ rights and benefits. The AFL under Green supported measures including unemployment insurance and legislation strengthening workers’ rights. Green also supported the Fair Labor Standards Act of 1938, which established the first federal minimum wage and a 40-hour workweek in the United States.
The important lesson is not that William Green single-handedly created America’s social safety net. He did not. American labour reform was the product of many people, organizations, politicians, lawyers and movements. The legislation itself went through years of political conflict and compromise. The U.S. Department of Labor’s history of the Fair Labor Standards Act shows just how fierce the battle over wages, hours and workers’ protection was.
But Green represented something important: organized labour that was prepared to use its collective strength. Workers were not simply asking for sympathy. They were demanding a change in the rules. That distinction matters enormously for Ghana.
GH¢21.77 a Day
Ghana’s 2026 national daily minimum wage is GH¢21.77. That figure is official. It represents a 9% increase from GH¢19.97 in 2025. Now multiply GH¢21.77 by 26 working days. You get roughly GH¢566. Even if one calculates the figure differently, the fundamental question remains: Can a human being reasonably be expected to live on such an income? And we must be careful here.
The national minimum wage is not necessarily the actual monthly salary of every worker in Ghana. It is a statutory floor, and different employment arrangements have different conditions. But a statutory floor tells us something about what the economy considers the minimum acceptable remuneration for labour. And that is where the conversation becomes uncomfortable. Because Ghana has workers whose incomes are barely above survival level.
There are teachers in some private schools whose salaries are reportedly extraordinarily low. There are young graduates doing national service far from their homes. There are attendants at filling stations. There are security guards, shop assistants, cleaners, domestic workers and other low-paid workers whose circumstances rarely enter national economic discussions. They work. They sweat. They commute. They feed families. They pay rent. They become sick. They grow old. And many remain poor.
And Then Comes Retirement
If low wages are painful, retirement can be even more frightening. SSNIT says the minimum monthly pension for new pensioners has been increased from GH¢300 to GH¢400 for 2026. For existing pensioners, the 2026 indexation combines a 6% fixed increase with a redistributive flat amount of GH¢91.56. The improvement for the lowest-paid new pensioners is significant. But let us ask the larger question. Can GH¢400 provide a dignified retirement? That is not an attack on SSNIT. It is a national question. A pension is supposed to provide some measure of security after decades of work.
Yet if a person spends a lifetime working and contributing to a pension scheme, and retirement brings an income that cannot adequately meet food, transport, utilities and medicine, then we must ask whether the retirement system is providing not merely a payment, but a dignified retirement. Sustainability is essential. SSNIT must remain financially sustainable. But sustainability and adequacy should not be presented as enemies. We need both. A pension system that collapses financially is a disaster. But a pension system that survives financially while large numbers of its beneficiaries remain unable to live decently is also a problem. The question is: What level of pension allows an elderly Ghanaian to live without begging? That question deserves as much attention as the actuarial calculations.
Where Are Our Labour Leaders?
This is where I return to William Green. Where are the labour leaders who will take the struggle beyond annual negotiations over percentages? Every year we hear about salary negotiations. Nine percent. Ten percent. Twelve percent. We discuss inflation. We discuss productivity. We discuss fiscal space. All these things matter. But sometimes the central question gets lost: How much does the worker actually have left after paying for the necessities of life?
The Fair Wages and Salaries Commission itself has now acknowledged that Ghana needs to rethink its wage architecture and move towards a stronger relationship between pay and productivity. It has also acknowledged the challenge posed by a minimum wage that remains extremely low in purchasing-power terms. This conversation is welcome. But workers cannot eat conferences. They cannot eat policy papers. They cannot eat promises. They need wages that allow them to live. And pensioners need pensions that allow them to age without humiliation.
The National Service Paradox
Consider the young graduate. We tell our children: Go to school. Get a university degree. Work hard. Serve your country. Then we send the graduate to another part of Ghana. Perhaps Accra to Zantani. Perhaps Bunkpurugu to Bibiani. Perhaps Tamale to some distant community. And we give the young person an allowance that may be inadequate even before transportation, accommodation and food are considered.
The National Service Authority has previously announced a monthly allowance of GH¢715.57. Now imagine being posted hundreds of kilometers from home. Where will you sleep? What will you eat? How much will transportation cost? Are foodstuffs free in rural Ghana? Is accommodation free? Does electricity cost nothing? Does the landlord accept national service as payment? We should be honest with ourselves. A young graduate cannot live on patriotism alone. Patriotism is important. National service is important. But patriotism should not become another word for poverty.
The Teacher Who is supposed to Educate Ghana
Then there is the private-school teacher. We want Ghanaian children to compete with children everywhere in the world. We want mathematics. Science. Technology. Artificial intelligence. Critical thinking. Good English. Good citizenship. We want world-class universities. But who is preparing these children? Teachers.
And some teachers in private basic schools reportedly receive wages that would make it difficult to survive even if they had no dependents. How can we demand educational excellence from teachers who are constantly worried about food, transport, rent and medical expenses? A hungry teacher is still a professional. But a society that chronically underpays its teachers should not be surprised when the profession struggles to attract and retain the best people. If education is the foundation of national development, then the person standing at the foundation deserves respect.
The Pump Attendant
And then there is the pump attendant. We rarely see the person. We see the fuel pump. We drive away. But behind that pump is a human being. Someone who may work long hours. Someone who may stand in the sun and rain. Someone exposed to fuel and other workplace risks. Someone who has a family. Someone who needs food. Someone who may be paid very little. And according to accounts from the sector, some attendants may experience delayed or irregular payment.
If such claims are accurate, they should concern the labour authorities. A worker who has completed a month’s work should not have to beg an employer for the wages already earned. Work must create dignity, not dependence.
We Keep Looking at the Wrong Places
Perhaps our leaders should spend less time admiring impressive buildings and more time visiting the people whose labour keeps Ghana functioning. Visit the pensioner at Domeabra. Visit the national-service worker at Nakpali. Visit the pump attendant at Worawora. Visit the private-school teacher at Kpetoe. Visit the nurse in a remote health facility. Visit the farmer who produces the food we eat. Visit the security guard who spends the night protecting somebody else’s property while worrying about his own family’s survival.
Sit with them. Do not arrive with cameras. Do not arrive with party colours. Do not arrive with speeches. Just listen. Ask them: How much do you earn? When were you last paid? How much is your rent? How much does transportation cost? How much do you spend on food? What happens when you fall sick? What happens when you retire? Then perhaps we will understand the economy differently.
Suffering does not Know NDC or NPP
This is where Ghana must stop deceiving itself. Whenever economic conditions are discussed, politicians often turn the conversation into a comparison between NDC and NPP. Who inherited what? Who borrowed more? Who built more? Who destroyed more? Who performed better?
The arguments continue. But the suffering Ghanaian is still suffering. Suffering does not know NDC. Suffering does not know NPP. Suffering knows Ghanaians. The pensioner does not eat party slogans. The teacher cannot pay school fees with political promises. The national-service worker cannot pay rent with GDP growth. The pump attendant cannot take an election victory to the supermarket. The unemployed graduate does not care which party can produce the cleverest economic speech. He or she wants work. And when the work comes, the person wants to be paid fairly.
This is why political parties should not be allowed to define our ambitions merely by comparing themselves with one another. The real comparison should be with the Ghana we could become.
What Happened to Our Industrial Dream?
This brings us back to the factories. We once produced. We once manufactured. We once believed that Ghana could build an industrial economy. Today, we import enormous quantities of goods that we should be asking ourselves whether we can produce competitively at home. The historical record is not in dispute about the broad direction of our early industrialization. Ghana deliberately pursued import substitution and built a substantial state-owned industrial base. That trajectory later weakened amid economic crises, political instability, policy shifts and other factors.
So perhaps the answer is not to complain endlessly about poverty. Perhaps it is to rebuild production. Because ultimately, decent wages cannot be sustained by slogans. They require productivity. Productivity requires investment. Investment requires confidence. Confidence requires stable institutions. Industry requires skills. Skills require education. And all of these require leadership capable of thinking beyond the next election.
We should not Fear Fair Pay
There will always be someone who says: “If you increase wages, businesses will collapse.” Sometimes that argument is legitimate. A small business genuinely struggling to survive cannot be treated like a multinational corporation. But the opposite question must also be asked: What happens when wages are so low that workers themselves cannot survive? A worker who is constantly hungry cannot be fully productive. A teacher who cannot afford transportation cannot give his or her best. A national-service worker who spends half an allowance on accommodation faces obvious hardship. A pensioner who cannot afford medicine is not experiencing “fiscal discipline.” He is experiencing deprivation.
There must therefore be a national conversation about living wages, productivity and dignity. Not reckless wage increases. Not politically motivated giveaways. Not unsustainable promises. But a system in which a person who works honestly has a reasonable chance of living decently.
We Need another Kind of Labour Movement
Perhaps Ghana does not need another labour movement that appears only when salaries are being negotiated. Perhaps we need a labour movement that fights for the entire architecture of working life.
It should ask: What is a living wage? What protections exist for casual workers? Why are some workers paid late? How are private-school teachers protected? Are national-service allowances realistic? Are young workers being exploited? Are employers complying with pension obligations? What happens to workers who become disabled? How prepared are workers for retirement? And perhaps most importantly: What kind of economy are we building for the next generation?
William Green’s America was not transformed by sympathy. It was transformed through pressure, organization, legislation and persistence. The American labour struggle was messy. It was divided. Labour leaders disagreed among themselves. Employers fought back. Politicians resisted. Bills were weakened and rewritten. But eventually, major reforms were achieved.
The Fair Labor Standards Act of 1938 survived years of political and legal battles before President Franklin Roosevelt signed it into law. It established a federal minimum wage of 25 cents an hour at the time and a maximum workweek of 44 hours in its initial form, alongside child-labour protections. The lesson for Ghana is not that we should copy America. It is that rights that matter are rarely obtained merely because somebody thinks they are a good idea. People have to organize. Institutions have to speak. Leaders have to be courageous. And governments have to listen.
Ghana Can Build Again
I refuse to believe that Ghana is condemned to remain poor. We have demonstrated capacity before. We have built industries before. We have educated generations before. We have produced engineers, doctors, teachers, scientists, entrepreneurs and professionals of international standing. We have natural resources. We have young people. We have universities. We have agricultural land. We have energy potential. We have a strategic location.
What we have too often lacked is the continuity, discipline and institutional seriousness required to turn these advantages into sustained national prosperity. The question therefore is not: Can Ghana build? We already know the answer. Yes. We have done it before. The question is: Can Ghana learn to build, and keep building? Can we create industries that survive changes in government? Can we make public institutions stronger than political interests? Can we stop treating every election as an opportunity to start development all over again? Can we reward production rather than connections? Can we make corruption sufficiently dangerous that stealing public resources is no longer considered clever? Can we create a labour market in which work actually pays? Can we build a pension system in which old age does not become another form of poverty? These are bigger questions than NDC and NPP. They are Ghanaian questions.
Where is Our William Green?
Perhaps this is ultimately the question. Where is Ghana’s William Green? Perhaps he is not one person. Perhaps he is not even a man. Perhaps Ghana’s William Green must be organized labour itself. It must be the teachers who refuse to accept exploitation as normal. The nurses who demand safe and fair working conditions. The miners who demand protection. The factory workers who demand their rights. The pensioners who demand dignity. The young graduate who asks why national service must mean financial hardship. The ordinary worker who says: “I work. I contribute. I deserve to live.”
But labour leaders must also rediscover something that seems to be disappearing from public life: the courage to fight for people who have no powerful connections. The Ghanaian worker does not need pity. The Ghanaian pensioner does not need charity. The Ghanaian graduate does not need political speeches. They need a country in which honest work is rewarded. And perhaps that is the greatest lesson from William Green. He did not merely ask powerful people to be kind. He helped demand that the rules themselves change.
Ghana needs that spirit again. Not a partisan spirit. Not an anti-government spirit. Not an anti-business spirit. A pro-Ghanaian spirit. Because suffering does not know NDC. Suffering does not know NPP. Suffering knows Ghanaians. And if we truly want Ghana to become the prosperous country we have talked about for generations, perhaps we must stop asking only who is ruling.
We must start asking: Who is building? Who is producing? Who is protecting the worker? Who is protecting the pensioner? Who is preparing the young? And, finally: Who is fighting for the Ghanaian who has nobody powerful to fight for him? That is where the real battle for Ghana’s future begins.
P.S. As this piece was going to press, a remarkable act of patriotism served as a stark contrast to the self-serving culture highlighted above. Ghanaian businessman Henry Manly-Spain voluntarily rejected a massive GH¢79.65 million judgment debt awarded to his company, Servistar Minwax (WA) Ltd, by an Accra High Court against the Ghana Revenue Authority. Pointing out that his legitimate claim — even with interest — did not exceed GH¢10 million, he refused the inflated windfall, stating it would betray his conscience and harm the nation. His choice is a striking reminder that the suffering of the Ghanaian public is not inevitable; it is a direct result of ethical choices. When leaders and individuals prioritize the collective good over personal enrichment, true integrity remains possible.
Mr. Manly-Spain, Allah bless you and your family abundantly. You are my HERO!
FUSEINI ABDULAI BRAIMAH
+233208282575 / +233550558008
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