The last time NPP was in power, NDC was praying it fails for them to come to power. Now that the NDC is power, the NPP is vehemently praying for NDC to fail.
In many countries, citizens wake up each morning hoping their government succeeds. Success means better roads, stronger schools, stable prices, and opportunities for the next generation.
But in Ghana, a troubling political culture has quietly taken root, one where some people do not merely criticize the government; they pray for it to fail!
Not because failure serves the country. But because failure serves the next election.
It is a strange and dangerous psychology: a nation where political victory often depends on national disappointment. Ghana’s democracy, since the beginning of the Fourth Republic in 1992, has largely revolved around two dominant political forces the New Patriotic Party (NPP) and the National Democratic Congress (NDC).
Their rivalry is intense, deeply emotional, and often theatrical. Elections are fought fiercely, supporters defend their camps passionately, and political debate fills radio studios, television panels, and social media timelines. Competition in politics is not the problem. In fact, democracy thrives on competition.
The problem emerges when political competition transforms into something darker, when the opposition begins to see national difficulty as a political opportunity.
It is not unusual in Ghana’s political discourse to hear opposition voices amplify every economic hardship, every policy stumble, and every administrative misstep. That is their democratic role.
Opposition parties exist to question power, expose weaknesses, and propose alternatives.
But there is a subtle line between constructive criticism and strategic pessimism. Too often, that line disappears. In the heat of partisan rivalry, some political actors quietly begin to hope that the government’s policies fail, that the economy deteriorates, or that public frustration grows.
The logic is simple and brutally cynical: if the ruling party struggles, voters will punish them at the ballot box. In other words, the road to power is paved with national disappointment.
This mindset creates a perverse political incentive structure. Instead of contributing ideas that strengthen national programs, some actors focus on predicting collapse. Instead of offering solutions that improve governance, the emphasis shifts to highlighting failure.
Political debate becomes less about building the country and more about waiting for the government to stumble.
Ironically, opposition parties often sound their most reasonable and visionary when they are out of power.
Away from the burdens of governance, their policy ideas appear fresh, thoughtful, and people-centered. They speak passionately about accountability, fiscal discipline, and good governance. They promise transparency, humility, and national unity.
The deeper tragedy is that citizens sometimes become enthusiastic participants in this political theatre. Supporters of one party often celebrate the struggles of the other as though national hardship were a sporting victory.
Economic difficulties become partisan talking points. Governance challenges become ammunition for political insults. The conversation stops being about Ghana. It becomes about winning.
This “pull him down” mentality is not just a social habit; it has become a political strategy. Instead of building a culture where ideas compete, Ghana sometimes drifts into a culture where failure is weaponised. And that is dangerous.
Because when a government fails, the country does not pause until the next election. Businesses suffer. Families struggle. Young graduates searching for work cannot put their lives on hold until political power changes hands.
National development is not a football match where supporters cheer when the opposing team misses a penalty. When government programs collapse, everyone loses.
Infrastructure projects stall. Policy continuity disappears. Institutional confidence weakens. Investors hesitate. The economy absorbs the shock long before political actors claim their victory.
The uncomfortable truth is that a nation cannot sustainably grow if its political ecosystem quietly depends on failure. Democracy should not reward sabotage whether open or subtle. Instead, Ghana needs a different political philosophy.
A mature democracy is one where the opposition competes not by waiting for collapse but by presenting stronger alternatives. Where criticism is paired with policy. Where disagreement is grounded in ideas rather than partisan hostility.
Opposition parties should not pray for governments to fail. They should challenge governments to do better. They should design sharper policies, propose smarter reforms, and present credible visions that persuade voters through innovation rather than frustration.
The ruling party, on the other hand, must also accept that criticism is not sabotage. Healthy democracies depend on scrutiny. Governments that listen carefully to opposing ideas often become stronger, not weaker. And citizens must also rethink their role in this political ecosystem.
Partisan loyalty should not blind us to national reality. A struggling government does not hurt only its political leaders, it hurts market traders, taxi drivers, teachers, nurses, farmers, and young entrepreneurs trying to build a future.
We must learn to evaluate policies rather than slogans. Reward ideas rather than insults. And recognize that national success benefits everyone regardless of party colour.
Democratic stability alone is not enough. A democracy must also cultivate political maturity. It must encourage competition that produces better policies, not louder pessimism. It must inspire leaders who measure success by national progress rather than electoral advantage.
A country should never find itself in the uncomfortable position of hoping its government fails. Because when a nation begins to pray for political failure, it risks slowly praying against its own future. And Ghana deserves better than that.
The writer, Shadrach Assan, is the lead producer for Adom FM’s morning show, Dwaso Nsem.
