For me, the most fascinating aspect of the Court of Appeal’s controversial decision in the Sedina Tamakloe case has not been the judgment itself, but the remarkable engineering of the narrative that followed.

The bigger story is this: if there is one area in which this government has fundamentally reset the standards of governance, it is public relations. They have demonstrated an exceptional understanding that governing is not only about what you do, but about what people believe you have done. Optics matter, narrative matters and perception matters.

Public relations, in my view, is one area in which this government deserves almost universal praise. Thus, if governance were judged solely on optics, message discipline and narrative management, this administration would be the gold standard for all other African democracies. 

Ghana’s ruling National Democratic Congress has elevated political communications into a major policy item that has most probably received more funding (directly and otherwise) over its first 18 months in office than the flagship 24 Hour Economy promise itself.   Cheekily put, they have mastered the modern political art of making a goat look like a cow. And, on a particularly good day, convincing the goat itself that it has always been a cow.

Their predecessors, the New Patriotic Party, of which I am a proud loyalist, never really gave the impression they understood this to this extent. They probably believed that if they performed, the public would eventually recognise it. This government, led of course by a PR expert, understands something different: performance whispers, while narrative travels with a loudspeaker. 

Another story that illustrates this point is the economy. The macroeconomic numbers have undoubtedly been impressive. But they did not emerge in a vacuum. They have been built on at least five important foundations: first, the extraordinary rise in global gold prices; second, the institutionalised consolidation and expansion of the Gold Purchase Programme initiated in response to the 2022 economic crisis; third, the Domestic Debt Exchange Programme (DDEP), especially the enormous sacrifices made by Ghanaian bondholders to make our public debt manageable; fourth, the remarkable fiscal discipline with which government has steered the IMF programme and, fifth, this government’s ability to tell the story in a way that deepens the impression that the previous government left the economy in a mess and this government alone has fixed it.

None of those foundations can honestly be ignored, regardless of how the two parties argue over who deserves the greater credit. It is not the duty of Ato Forson to concede that Dr Mahamudu Bawumia’s initiative for gold to be used as an anchor for macroeconomic stability has been God-sent and has been religiously applied by this administration as a major tool for achieving the very success this government prides itself in. Interesting two years await us.

The real test, however, begins now. The IMF programme has ended. The difficult expenditure decisions that were deferred can no longer be postponed. The challenge is no longer simply producing impressive macroeconomic indicators, but translating them into the promised jobs, greater business opportunities, better schools, access to healthcare, better roads and tangible improvements in the daily lives of Ghanaians.

That story is yet to be told and next year will pose a major test on how the people really feel beyond the charm of optics and cosmetics. But that is a discussion for another day. For now, let me return to the Sedina Tamakloe case because nothing illustrates the performance of this government better than how it is dealing with the controversy surrounding the Court of Appeal’s decision. 

Whether you agree with the decision or not, the Court of Appeal did not hold that no stealing occurred, that no financial loss was suffered, that procurement laws were complied with, or that MASLOC funds were properly used. No. It deliberately refrained from making findings on those factual issues. Rather, it held that the convictions were unsafe because the trial judge misdirected himself and wrongly shifted the burden of proof onto the accused so the prosecution had, therefore, failed to prove the offences beyond reasonable doubt. 

In the first few hours after the Court quashed her 10-year conviction, the public reaction I observed was overwhelmingly negative. From my own sampling, the middle class, including many sympathetic to the NDC, were openly appalled. For the masses, it may well have appeared as though the long arm of the Executive was at work over a judiciary that had been cowered into submission with the bold initial move of sacking and replacing the Chief Justice. Social media was remarkably united. Those loyal to the NDC were either noticeably quiet or barely concealed their disappointment, including some key pro-NDC civil society voices. Such was the depth of public opinion that the Attorney-General quickly came out to state his position disagreeing entirely with the Court of Appeal. He defended the work of the prosecutors who conducted the trial, announced that he would appeal to the Supreme Court and even spoke, with oddity, of seeking a stay of execution. 

Then, remarkably, within twelve hours, the language began to change. Government communicators and sympathisers started attacking the previous Attorney-General for allegedly doing a shoddy job. Those who would have previously described the decision as that of “Unanimous FC” were now urging the public to read the judgment and focus on the law and not the politics. Fascinating!

What fascinated me most, however, was the speed, discipline and consistency with which the narrative was forcefully and, perhaps, forcibly reclaimed over the next 48 hours by the ruling party. The scale and coordination of the communications effort suggested a deliberate and well-resourced campaign. We saw it on social media. We heard it on radio and television. We watched it unfold on news bulletins and panel discussions. Much of the media quickly adopted the new framing. The narrative had been reset!

Not even the statement from the former Attorney-General, questioning whether any appeal had in fact been filed by Ms Tamakloe’s lawyers in 2024 as the records now purport, and asking why, if such an appeal existed, it was never relied upon during her extradition proceedings from the USA to serve her sentence, appeared capable of slowing that momentum.

But is the mission really accomplished? Here lies the irony. The Attorney-General says the Court of Appeal got the law wrong and has asked the Supreme Court to restore the conviction. Yet many communicators from his own government are celebrating the very judgment he says should be overturned. Which is the government’s true position? This is where the contradiction becomes impossible to ignore. If the Court of Appeal got it right, why appeal? If it got it wrong, why defend the judgment? The confusion has become basaa, as they say in Ghana.

There’s another irony difficult to miss. One of the enduring justifications for the 31 December Revolution of this same (P)NDC that has ruled Ghana for nearly 30 years, was that obvious thieves were escaping justice because of legal technicalities. Today, many within that same political tradition celebrate an acquittal based on what they themselves describe as technical legal deficiencies. History has an ironic sense of humour. But, let me not lose track…

None of this is to deny the importance of optics. Every successful government must understand that governance is about both substance and perception. The danger comes when a government begins to believe that perception matters more than performance. That optics can permanently substitute for substance. 

It cannot. Eventually, citizens compare the story they are being told with the lives they are actually living. They compare the narrative with their own reality. When those two drift too far apart, no amount of message discipline, however brilliant, can close the gap. That is when reality wins, depending, of course, partly in the narrative discipline and vim of the opposition itself. 

As for how the Attorney-General reconciles asking the Supreme Court to restore a conviction while his government’s communicators celebrate the judgment that set it aside, perhaps that, too, is simply part of the story.

The author is a lawyer, political analyst and communication expert.