Today, 3 June, marks ten years since Ghana experienced one of its deadliest disasters—a twin tragedy of fire and flood that claimed over 150 lives at the Kwame Nkrumah Circle in Accra.

The catastrophe unfolded after hours of torrential rainfall caused severe flooding in the capital. Amid the chaos, fuel leakage from the GOIL fuel station ignited—reportedly by a cigarette stub—triggering a massive explosion that compounded the devastation.

A decade later, survivors gathered on Joy FM’s Super Morning Show to relive the haunting memories of that night—stories of terror, trauma, survival, and enduring pain.
“He was my angel, my hero”

Kafui Adzah, one of the survivors, struggled to hold back tears as she recalled the harrowing events. “I never close early, but that day, I did. I picked up my daughter, and we walked home under a strange sky. I called my friend Larry and said, ‘It looks funny, but I’m okay.’ I thought home was safe.”

But safety was fleeting. Floodwaters soon invaded her home, trapping her and her daughter. Panic set in. “I kept telling Larry, ‘It’s fine, it’s fine’—until it wasn’t. I had to cry out for help. I even posted on Facebook, but no one saw.”

Her friend, Larry Dogbe, braved the deadly waters to rescue her. “If saving you and your daughter is the last thing I do, I will do it,” he told her before swimming through treacherous floodwaters to pull them to safety.

“He was my angel, my hero. Without him, I wouldn’t be alive,” Kafui said.

“The sky turned orange”

Akosua Ogyiri, who was at work at Charterhouse when the rain began, shared her ordeal. “We thought the rain would pass, so we waited. Then water rushed into the reception, swallowing everything. The lights went out, and darkness took over.”

Outside, the inferno lit up the night sky. “We could smell fuel in the water. Emergency lines were dead. We didn’t know if we’d live through the night.”

She and her colleagues were eventually rescued by a team led by a military colleague. Though grateful, the psychological scars remain. “We were lucky, but the terror stays with us every day,” she said.

A Call to Action

Akosua lamented the cycle of apathy that often follows national tragedies. “I believe that too often, our motivation to do the right thing comes only from the pain of a disaster. People died, properties were lost, and only then were we ignited to act. But once the disaster subsides, everyone goes back to what they used to do, which is not fixing the problem.”

She stressed that change must be rooted in duty, not disaster.

“Whether you are a citizen or not, you must do your part—keep drains clear, don’t dump refuse anywhere, and don’t block gutters. Just do it.”

She added, “I was expecting that after June 3, there would be clear policies—actions everyone could point to and say, ‘Because of what happened, we now do this to protect lives.’”

Reflecting on her own narrow escape, Akosua said, “Speaking now, ten years later, I realise how close I was to becoming another victim. If I had left earlier that night, I could have been swept away in the floodwaters. Only God knows what might have happened.”

The Way Forward

The testimonies of Kafui and Akosua serve as a poignant reminder that civic responsibility cannot be seasonal. The June 3 disaster was more than a national tragedy—it was a call to action. A decade on, the question remains: have we truly learned from it?

As Akosua concluded, “What we must take from this is that the true ignition to do the right thing must come from a deep sense of responsibility and duty—not just from disaster, but from the commitment to prevent it.”