There is an uncomfortable truth we keep dancing around in Ghana. Many Ghanaians are not hostile to quality. They are hostile to structure. Formality unsettles us. Order intimidates us. Clean systems make us nervous. So we flee to the familiar chaos even when it costs more, performs worse, and humiliates us daily.

We like to pretend this is about affordability. It is not. It is about psychology.

A well designed restaurant can price competitively, maintain hygiene, pay staff properly, follow rules, and still be ignored. Meanwhile, a roadside eatery perched by a stinking gutter will be packed, even when its food costs more. Not because it is better, but because it feels familiar. Disorder feels safe.

Look at automobiles. A ten year old Ghana used pickup truck, abused by a government agency and sold at auction, can cost nearly the same as a brand new one in a showroom. Yet people are afraid to walk into automobile showrooms. They prefer an inferior, overpriced alternative because it does not demand confidence, paperwork, or engagement with formal systems. Showrooms require questions, credit checks, documentation, and self belief. The scrapyard does not.

At one point in this country, a secondhand Wrangler jeans at Tema Station in Accra was priced higher than a brand new one in the official Wrangler shop in Osu. That absurdity tells you everything. We romanticize secondhand suffering and distrust legitimacy even when it is cheaper.

The same contradiction plays out in shopping. People travel long distances to filthy, overcrowded markets, stepping over refuse and human waste, instead of shopping at nearby supermarkets where prices are often comparable. Again, not because of cost, but because structure feels alien. Supermarkets are quiet, organised, and transactional. Markets are noisy, chaotic, and emotionally familiar.

Even finance exposes this pathology. Banks offer cheaper loans, regulated terms, and consumer protections. Yet many Ghanaians prefer informal shylocks who charge outrageous interest, harass borrowers, and destroy livelihoods. Why? Because banks demand documentation, planning, and accountability. Shylocks demand only desperation.

The most tragic example is sanitation. In some communities, purpose built public washrooms exist. Yet open defecation persists. This is not about infrastructure. It is about mindset. Civilization is not just the presence of facilities. It is the willingness to use them.

What we are witnessing is a mixture of low confidence, fear of formal engagement, and a deep deficit in civic discipline. Structure exposes inadequacy. Informality hides it. In chaos, everyone blends in. In order, incompetence stands out.

This raises an uncomfortable question for serious businesses. Should standards be lowered to survive? Should excellence be diluted to match dysfunction? Should clean environments be dirtied to attract patronage?

That would be a tragic mistake.

Societies do not progress by pandering to their worst habits. They progress by confronting them. Lowering standards may generate short term revenue, but it entrenches long term decay. It rewards fear, validates disorder, and punishes those who try to build properly.

The real work is harder. It involves education, exposure, patience, and consistency. It requires businesses to hold the line even when it hurts. It requires leadership that stops romanticizing “the informal sector” as cultural authenticity when it is often just institutional failure in costume.

Ghana does not lack intelligence or ambition. What it lacks is confidence in systems. Until we confront that, we will continue paying more for less, choosing filth over function, and mistaking disorder for identity.

And no country ever developed that way.