Introduction
In 2023, the then Inspector-General of Police, Dr
George Akuffo Dampare, warned churches against the reckless communication of
prophecies, especially those predicting death or national disaster. “Prophecy
itself is not a crime,” he said, “but when it is declared in a way that spreads
fear or panic, the law will take its course.” His caution highlighted a growing
tension in Ghana between religious freedom and public safety.
Two years later, that tension escalated when
Evangelist Patricia Asiedua, popularly known as Nana Agradaa, was sentenced to
15 years in prison with hard labour for fraud and charlatanic practices. Her
“money-doubling” broadcasts had promised instant financial miracles to
desperate followers, promises that ended in betrayal and scandal.
The debate intensified further in August 2025, when a
tragic helicopter crash claimed the lives of eight persons including two
cabinet ministers. In the wake of the disaster, prophetic voices quickly filled
the airwaves, with some claiming to have foreseen the tragedy. Against this
backdrop, Hon. Elvis Afriyie Ankrah, the Presidential Envoy for Interfaith and
Ecumenical Relations, called for closer scrutiny of prophecies with national
implications. His appeal was not merely procedural but a response to the sobering
reality that in Ghana, prophecies can move markets, sway politics, and unsettle
an entire nation.
Ghana’s Interaction with the Prophetic Institution
From independence to the present day, Ghana’s leaders
have leaned on prophets in moments of uncertainty. Dr Kwame Nkrumah, Ghana’s
first president, famously declared: “Seek ye first the political kingdom...”
This was a deliberate adaptation of Matthew 6:33 and a reflection of what
Kenyan theologian John S. Mbiti observed: “The African is notoriously
religious...” Religion in Africa is not confined to temples or rituals but
woven into politics, economics, family, and public ethics. Nkrumah himself was
alleged to have maintained spiritual associations, including Guinea’s prophetic
traditions (Kankan Nyame).
The blending of prophecy and politics continued with
his successors. Captain Sowu, in a recent interview with Kafui Dey (45 Years
On: Memories of Ghana 1979), recounted how both a prophetess and a young
boy warned General I.K. Acheampong of betrayal within his camp, warnings that
went unheeded, with tragic consequences. Flight Lieutenant Jerry John Rawlings
frequently interacted with Prophet Wovenu of the Apostles Revelation Society
(ARS). The late President John Atta Mills maintained a close friendship with
Nigerian televangelist T.B. Joshua, often described as his spiritual adviser.
More recently, both H.E. John Dramani Mahama and H.E. Mahamudu Bawumia, as then
flagbearers of the two major political parties, had to navigate relationships
with Ghana’s prophetic voices, whether through endorsement, critique, or
prayer.
Yet prophecy in Ghana is not only about politicians.
Surveys by the Pew Research Center (2018) show that over 70% of Ghanaians
believe religious leaders influence political life. Ordinary citizens fill
all-night services, tune in to prophetic broadcasts, and share declarations on
social media. For many, these messages offer hope in hard times, promises of
jobs, healing, and national breakthroughs. For others, prophecies evoke
anxiety, particularly when they foretell death or political instability. This
public hunger for spiritual direction explains why prophets continue to wield
such influence in national life.
Prophets in the Bible
In the Old Testament, a prophet (nabi in
Hebrew, meaning “one who speaks for another”) was God’s spokesperson to the
nation. They were not fortune-tellers but covenant enforcers. As Deuteronomy
18:18 declares: “I will raise up for them a prophet like you from among their
brethren, and will put My words in his mouth, and he shall speak to them all
that I command him.” Samuel anointed kings (1 Samuel 10:1; 16:13), Elijah
challenged King Ahab (1 Kings 18:17–18), and Nathan rebuked David after his sin
with Bathsheba (2 Samuel 12:7). Prophets shaped Israel’s destiny, reminding the
people: “Believe in the Lord your God, and you shall be established; believe
His prophets, and you shall prosper” (2 Chronicles 20:20).
In the New Testament, the Greek prophētēs
emphasises edification, exhortation, and comfort of the Church (1 Corinthians
14:3). While Old Testament prophets spoke to nations, New Testament prophets
built up the body of Christ. Yet the essence remained the same: faithfully
speaking God’s truth in season and out of season (2 Timothy 4:2).
Ghana’s Neo-Prophetic Era
In recent decades, Ghana has witnessed the rise of the
neo-prophets, independent charismatic pastors who thrive on visions,
deliverance, prosperity messages, and dramatic predictions, building ministries
around their own personalities, often using radio, television, and social media
to reach millions. Many have courted politicians, offered spiritual endorsement
and protection, while also drawn ordinary citizens through promises of
breakthrough and prosperity.
But their influence has been double-edged. While some
prophecies have inspired peace and intercession during tense elections, others,
especially failed or fear-inducing predictions, have fuelled anxiety and
mistrust in national institutions. The Centre for Democratic Development
(CDD-Ghana), in a 2021 survey, warned that such sensational prophecies can
heighten electoral tensions.
This concern has led respected Christian leaders to
speak out. Most Rev’d Prof. Johnson K. Asamoah-Gyadu, Presiding Bishop of The
Methodist Church Ghana, has repeatedly called for restraint in prophetic
practice. He has warned that prophetic forecasts naming election winners are
“dubious and harmful,” undermining democracy by discouraging voters from
exercising their own judgment and also urged prophets to refrain from
instilling fear in society through doom-laden declarations about death and
disaster. He has even cautioned against inviting questionable prophets to
Methodist pulpits.
The neo-prophetic movement therefore remains a paradox:
capable of unsettling society through reckless pronouncements, yet also guiding
it when responsibly directed toward justice, peace, and civic responsibility.
It is precisely this paradox that has fuelled calls for regulation, raising the
critical question: how should prophecy be handled in public life?
Regulation or Restriction?
Some point to Uganda, where the government requires
pastors and prophets to obtain certification before operating. Supporters see
this as necessary oversight, but critics view it as excessive state control
over faith. Nigeria offers another model: through the Corporate Affairs
Commission, churches and prophetic ministries are registered as corporate
entities, which allows some financial accountability but does not directly
monitor their spiritual claims. In South Africa, heated debates have emerged
over “miracle churches” after scandals involving pastors who made congregants
eat snakes or drink petrol. The South African Commission for the Promotion and
Protection of the Rights of Cultural, Religious and Linguistic Communities has
proposed regulatory frameworks, though these remain controversial.
Ghana’s situation is uniquely complex. The 1992
Constitution guarantees freedom of association and religion, meaning any direct
state regulation of prophecy could easily be challenged as unconstitutional. In
practice, anyone can rise as a pastor or prophet without theological training,
provided they register an organisation at the Registrar General’s Department
under a “limited by guarantee” arrangement.
Crucially, many neo-prophets operate independently,
with no affiliation to established Christian ecumenical bodies. While the
public often expects the Christian Council of Ghana, the Pentecostal and
Charismatic Council, or the National Association of Charismatic and Christian
Churches to rein in “charlatan prophets,” most of these prophets are lone
operators who answer to no wider body. This independence makes accountability
difficult.
A possible middle ground may therefore be worth
considering. If legislation required not only registration with the Registrar
General’s Department but also mandatory affiliation with a recognised
Christian ecumenical body, this would create a framework for oversight.
Such a system could allow prophets to be licensed under ecumenical supervision,
with the option of withdrawing licences in cases of abuse, misconduct, or
non-compliance.
This approach would avoid heavy-handed state
interference while still protecting the public from exploitative practices. Yet
even here, critics warn that such regulation risks “quenching the Spirit” (1
Thessalonians 5:19). While others argue that true spiritual authenticity cannot
be legislated, still discernment is not unbiblical: ancient Israel tested
prophets not to silence them but to separate the genuine from the false.
Conclusion
Ghana’s task is not to silence prophets but to shape
prophetic practice so that it uplifts rather than undermine the nation. This
calls for intentional self-regulation within the Christian community. In
Ghana, prophets and politicians will always share a stage. The real question is
whether that stage will be one of righteousness and peace, or of confusion and
reproach. The answer may well depend on how courageously the church reforms its
prophetic witness for the sake of the nation.