For many years, I have lived close enough to the streets and ghettos to see things as they truly are—not from reports or statistics, but from lived experience.

From that vantage point, one truth is impossible to ignore: alcohol is destroying more lives in Ghana today than hard drugs and even HIV, especially among the poor and the young.

The most destructive culprit is akpeteshie

I have watched people become addicted to it, right up to the very day it killed them. I have seen familiar faces slowly disappear from street corners, blue kiosks, and gathering spots where laughter once lived. Too many are gone now—not because they chose death, but because they did not know what they were truly drinking.

What makes this crisis even more frightening is that much of the alcohol circulating today is no longer alcohol in any traditional sense. It is fake, toxic, and lethal. Across the country, people are refining illicit brews from dangerous chemicals, and the damage they cause is irreversible.

The steady rise in kidney failure and liver disease among young people is no accident. It is the consequence of daily exposure to poisoned drinks sold cheaply and without regulation.

Authentic akpeteshie once had a clear identity. It came in two forms: one distilled from sugarcane, the other from palm wine. Today, that identity has been completely corrupted. What was once brewed from sugarcane is now often made from raw sugar, yeast, and a frightening mix of additives, including conductive metals.

The palm wine version has also been transformed into something unrecognisable, with reports of brewers using metals and strange chemicals allegedly sourced from across the border.

There are even disturbing rumours of chemicals circulating in Togo that can turn plain water into something that smells and tastes exactly like akpeteshie within a few days.

Water is poured into drums, chemicals are added, and after three to seven days, the liquid acquires the scent and bite of dekele. Even an experienced drinker would struggle to tell the difference. This is what many young people are unknowingly consuming every day.

These fake drinks are everywhere. They are cheap, accessible, and deadly. Their long-term effects will not all show immediately, but the damage is already unfolding quietly in hospitals and homes across the country.

Stopping this spread will not be easy. Alcohol itself is legal, yet there are few clear rules distinguishing safe production from criminal poisoning. Tracking and shutting down illicit brewers is difficult, especially when desperation and the lure of quick money drive the trade.

Some notorious brewers may have died, but the knowledge and the greed did not die with them. Others have stepped in, continuing to manufacture sickness for profit.

This is why education is critical. Institutions like the NCCE and other community-focused bodies must urgently take up the responsibility of educating the public about fake akpeteshie and the dangers it carries.

At the same time, government must find practical ways to trace, regulate, and dismantle illicit alcohol production networks before an entire generation pays the price.

Alcohol addiction is not a lesser evil. It is just as widespread and just as destructive as cocaine, crack, or heroin. The difference is that it hides in plain sight—accepted, normalised, and underestimated. Yet it is quietly eroding the health, dignity, and future of both young and old alike.

This is not just a public health issue. It is a national emergency, unfolding slowly, invisibly, and tragically—one drink at a time.