As I observed the presidential encounter with the media last Wednesday, I itched to ask a question. In fact, I itched to ask many questions. The room was filled with journalists eager to probe but constrained by the format. Questions had to be short and straightforward. Hands scrambled to be called, whispers circled the room, and time ran out before depth could be pursued.

I was not satisfied with the President’s response to the galamsey question either. Maybe it is because there was no opportunity for follow-up. If the format had allowed that, the President, who otherwise had answers for everything, would certainly have had the chance to go deeper.

Many, like myself, would have left reassured that this time, the fight against galamsey would not be another false dawn. So, Mr. President, let me present my question directly. I know you listen to constructive criticism. Your spokesperson, Felix Kwakye Ofosu, has confirmed that more than once.

Mr. President, we cannot fight galamsey while leaving landguardism untouched. Both are illegal empires feeding on fear, corruption, and political protection. The 2020 Land Act and the 2019 Vigilantism Act criminalize landguardism, yet no kingpin has been jailed, no cartel dismantled, and no public officer punished.

If the same chiefs, politicians, and security officers who profit from galamsey also shield the landguard syndicates, then what moral authority does the state have to tell a farmer in Tarkwa not to mine when a widow in Kasoa cannot build without paying a landguard tax?

They are two sides of the same coin. Landguards are not just petty thugs. They are the goons that secure galamsey pits, the arms that protect the atrocities against our ecology. When you dismantle galamsey, landguardism rises because they must find new ways to extort.

When you dismantle landguardism, galamsey flourishes because the very same men integrate into the illegal mining economy. They are Siamese twins, bound by blood money and violence.

Do you remember how a landguard shot and killed a soldier in the Gomoa Fetteh–Nyanyano enclave last year? What has become of that matter? Silence. We have failed to dig deep and clamp down on the kingpins of this criminal enterprise. These men do not disappear after nightfall. They walk freely, some flaunting their muscles at funerals and political rallies. We, the citizens, can roll call their names with ease. Do you mean to tell us the police cannot?

Mr. President, worse still, these landguards are not just about land. They moonlight as mercenaries for electoral violence, hired hands for politicians desperate to hold onto power. They are the muscle that buys impunity, the rented chaos that silences democracy.

If we cannot dismantle this grave national security threat, how safe are we from external aggressors? When the Republic has already surrendered its soil to internal criminals, what shield remains against enemies outside?

The truth is hard but necessary: landguards and galamsey are not fringe crimes. They are the very infrastructure of impunity. They are protected by big shots in government and shielded by godfathers who rule the underworld. That is why no law has teeth. That is why prosecutions are ghosts on paper.

Mr. President, you promised a reset. Reset is not about slogans. "Reset" means removing the parasites that have drained this Republic of dignity and sovereignty. Treat them as what they are: treasonous criminals who must pay for their crimes against humanity.

Until the state proves that no one is above the law, Ghana’s soil will remain a commodity for thugs, and her citizens will be hostages on their own land.

If the Republic cannot jail landguards and galamsey lords, then the Republic itself stands accused. And when the state becomes complicit in crime, the citizen must rise as the last line of defense.