By Pearlvis Atsu Kuadey
Across the world, wetlands are recognised as the lungs and lifelines of environmental resilience. In Ghana, their designation as Ramsar sites under the international convention was meant to demonstrate a solemn commitment to preserving these fragile ecosystems. Yet decades later, Accra’s wetlands stretching across Tema Metropolitan, Tema West, Ablekuma West, and Weija-Gbawe are under siege. Encroachment, weak enforcement, and the relentless sprawl of urbanisation have left these vital ecological buffers in peril. The consequences are evident every rainy season: floods that could have been prevented, homes swept away, and lives lost.
The recent demolitions of illegal structures on Ramsar lands have reignited national debate. While they have disrupted livelihoods, they also expose a far deeper failing,how did lands declared protected under international law become available for sale, trade, and indiscriminate construction? The answer is painfully clear. Years of institutional neglect, traditional leaders selling lands, local assemblies issuing questionable permits, and state agencies turning a blind eye have eroded public trust. Citizens are now paying the price for a system that chose expediency over responsibility.
Protecting Ramsar sites is not a partisan concern, it is a survival imperative. Wetlands act as natural flood barriers, absorbing excess rainfall and regulating water flows in our increasingly congested capital. Destroy them, and the city becomes dangerously vulnerable. Drainage systems collapse, infrastructure buckles, and the state is forced to spend billions of cedis on relief and reconstruction. This is not only an environmental issue it is an economic, social, and security crisis.
To break this cycle, Ghana must move beyond ad hoc demolitions. Ramsar zones should be treated as high-security ecological assets: clearly demarcated, fenced, and continuously monitored. Assemblies and planning authorities must be held accountable, with strict sanctions for officials who issue unlawful permits. Parliament must strengthen the legal framework so that the sale or allocation of Ramsar lands carries personal consequences for chiefs and public officials alike. At the same time, government must invest in alternative housing and innovative urban planning solutions to reduce the pressures driving encroachment.
It is in this context that the stance taken by the Greater Accra Regional Minister, Linda Akweley Ocloo, deserves acknowledgement. By declaring Ramsar sites as REGSEC-controlled security zones and confronting both traditional leaders and public institutions, she has demonstrated a rare willingness to act where others wavered. Her measures alone will not undo decades of neglect, but they have reopened a crucial national conversation about wetlands, governance, and the future of our cities.
Supporting this cause is not about applauding an individual; it is about defending Accra’s survival. For too long, wetlands have been treated as expendable land banks, parceled out for short-term gain. But Accra cannot continue to build on wetlands and merely pray against floods. The city must choose between reckless expansion and sustainable survival.
The demolitions may be painful in the short term, but with stronger laws, real accountability, and national will, they could mark a turning point. This could be the moment Ghana finally decides that the future of its cities and the lives of its people are not for sale.
