Author: Richmond Keelson, Ontario, Canada

Ogyakrom remains an enigma—a kingdom where leadership often defies logic. The true nature of its rulers becomes apparent only after they have left power. How else could King Naada Kufudo and his inner circle have managed to deceive even the divine—God, as Christians call Him, and Allah, as Muslims do—after first orchestrating a grand deception of Ogyakrom’s citizens in various aspects of development?

They mastered the art of deception while on the throne, yet the full extent of their cunning only reveals itself in hindsight—just as the true length of a frog is only known after its demise. Their polished trickery left Ogyakromnians dumbfounded. A prime example is their spectacular failure with the much-hyped cathedral project, which has now been reduced to nothing more than a glorified fountain-well—a failure so well-documented that even their relentless propaganda machine could not erase the damning truth: they squandered some $58 million on the abortive venture.

Even more astonishing is that after failing to fulfill their grand promise of building a cathedral for God, they also scammed Allah. Their much-touted commitment to constructing a Hajj Village—meant to ease the difficulties of Muslim pilgrims embarking on Hajj to Mecca—was yet another grand illusion. Like the cathedral, the Hajj Village was abandoned, leaving behind nothing but broken promises. 

The Agenda 111 Hospital Scam 

So, if the Elephants could deceive both God and Allah—same Supreme Being though, is it any surprise that their lies extended to the unfulfilled promise of constructing 111 hospitals under the so-called “Agenda 111”? Indeed, it was an agenda—an elaborate scheme to swindle the people of Ogyakrom while boasting that more than half of the hospital projects were underway. 

And when the current occupant of the Ogyakrom Kingdom Stool, Jhonmani Maama, exposed their deception, one Tumpurri, a trusted ally of King Naada, shamelessly attempted to rewrite history, falsely claiming that the Elephants had been fully prepared to build the Hajj Village. But was that before or after they were unceremoniously sacked, banished back to their forest or the Sahel base as punishment for their misdeeds—perhaps to sojourn with the camels?

“So, after eight years, they have scammed us with the Hajj Village too?” Alhaji Ziblim Zuuku lamented bitterly. He had barely finished expressing his frustration when Nii Yaka Gbemei interjected, “Ohhh, and they did the same to us—swindling God with a foundation-turned-swimming pool in the name of a National Cathedral. Their curses are enormous; they will follow them till eternity.”

By far, the closest the Elephants ever got to building the Hajj Village was a prototype design—an illusion they cleverly presented to many unsuspecting and gullible Ogyakrom minds as the completed project. A visit to the site tells a different story—a vast, barren land with little more than two twin-bundled iron rods, supposedly meant to form the pillars of this dream village. But who dares to complain?

Terror & the Concealed SHS Failure

Even the poorest town-criers feared speaking against the mighty Kufudo and his dynasty, lest they be swiftly bundled off to the guardroom. Headmasters and school administrators dared not voice concerns about the deplorable state of students’ feeding rations, for fear of victimization.

Yet, while students endured hunger and substandard meals, the kingdom’s rulers boasted of enrolling over 5 million students in Nadaa’s Free Senior High School program—when the actual beneficiaries barely exceeded 3 million. Were they running a different kingdom, or was this still the same Ogyakrom?

As a result, helpless students became the unfortunate consumers of poisonous rice and other expired ingredients, long past their shelf life. A few brave masters who stood up against this glaring crime against humanity were either banished to the remotest corners of Ogyakrom or summarily dismissed.

Parents, left with no choice, resorted to smuggling food to bursars just to secure decent meals for their children. Yet, in this so-called free state—where free speech was supposed to be the hallmark of King Naada Kufudo’s liberal dynasty—these harrowing experiences were shrouded in an oppressive culture of silence. 

A few brave youths of Ogyakrom who dared to speak out were swiftly thrown into dungeons—some of which had once been used by colonial masters to perpetuate slavery. “If you doubt Naada’s cruelty, ask activist and lawyer Togbe Warmavor,” Nii Yaka Gbemei once told a group of skeptical tourists.

This suffering, however, was masked under the guise of upholding the kingdom’s much-touted Free Senior High School (Free SHS) education policy. Nadaa prided himself on this initiative so much that none were permitted to see, hear, speak, taste, or feel any evil about it. But the reality was different. 

Most parents bore the brunt of the hardship, yet somehow, all were expected to praise the Free SHS program as flawless. Perhaps this explains the kingdom’s deliberate attempts to silence dissenting voices—except, of course, for its own hawkish propagandists.

Perhaps we should have been smart enough to see through the masterful deception behind the Free SHS policy right from its inception. At a time when King Nadaa and his cohorts claimed there were no funds to extend the program to second-year students, they somehow managed to conjure enough resources to flood the Ogyakrom skylines with grand billboards celebrating the birth and outdooring of Free SHS.

In the subsequent contest for the crown-seat, students were coerced into participating in cheap, glorified advertisements extolling the virtues of the Free SHS policy—all to make King Nadaa look good and secure his place in history as the first Ogyakrom King to offer free education. A blatant falsehood. What about the great Sagyefuo, the very first King of Ogyakrom? 

But even if King Nadaa wished to be remembered for such a grandiose delusion, did he have to suppress every dissenting voice—especially those seeking to refine and streamline the process? It only underscores how propaganda and lies became the defining hallmarks of King Nadaa’s dynasty.