Her Ladyship Justice Gertrude
Araba Esaaba Torkornoo, Chief
Justice of the Republic of Ghana
Accra
Your Ladyship,
There are moments in a jurist’s life when the highest service to the law is not found in prevailing—but in the dignity with which one accepts the inevitable. It is in these quiet, painful, and defining moments that legacies are etched—not by victory, but by vision.
Madam Chief Justice, I write to you not in condemnation, nor in flattery, but in solemn reflection. I think, especially, of the toll this difficult period must have taken on your family—your children and your husband, Mr. Torkornoo. As a fellow citizen of this Republic, please permit me to write from a place of deep respect for both your person and the high office you occupy.
Ghana watches today as Your Ladyship stands at the centre of a constitutional crisis—one that is no longer simply a legal matter but a national reckoning. It is no longer about the courts; it is about confidence in the judiciary. It is no longer about law, but about legacy.
True, every citizen has the right to seek redress, and every jurist must assert that right with courage. But with the greatest respect, I submit that there comes a time in every distinguished career when the ultimate act of leadership is not to fight, but to let go. Perhaps, Your Ladyship, that time is now.
I recall watching you take your oath of office—an oath to uphold the dignity and independence of Ghana’s judiciary. That same oath calls again—not in robes this time, but in sacrifice. In stepping aside. In showing strength through restraint.
You rightly stated at your recent press engagement that you have served the law for 38 years: as a lawyer, as a judge for 21 years, and now as Chief Justice. You affirmed your duty to speak out for justice in Ghana. Yet I fear the current legal campaign may have crossed the threshold of principle into the terrain of diminishing returns.
When a judge—let alone a Chief Justice—becomes the subject of sustained public controversy and repeated judicial defeat, the matter ceases to be personal. It becomes institutional. It becomes a burden on the very judiciary it seeks to defend.
Your Ladyship, in this moment, you are no longer merely a litigant. You are the living symbol of Ghana’s judicial conscience. And the judge’s highest duty is not to win battles—but to preserve peace.
Many in society are growing weary, not just of the litigation, but of what it means for the image of the courts. From the High Court to the Supreme Court, and now even to ECOWAS, your legal team persists, yet each step further burdens public confidence in the judiciary.
In our recent history, we witnessed a different path. In 2017, Mrs. Charlotte Osei, though not a judge, held a position with similar gravitas. When faced with impeachment, she bowed out gracefully despite fierce public criticism. Her poise and political temperament allowed her to exit with dignity. And today, time has vindicated her.
Your Ladyship, the question is no longer whether you can win—but whether the fight still serves the Republic. Lady Hale of the UK Supreme Court once said: “The law is not a weapon for personal vindication; it is a structure for societal coherence.” Ghana now needs that coherence more than ever. And sometimes, coherence begins with a graceful retreat.
Resignation is not surrender. It is the final act of statesmanship. It is choosing legacy over litigation, honour over ego, and country over self. It is a moral summit few ever reach—but one now within your grasp.
As Lord Mansfield once told a retiring jurist: “You have done enough. Let history speak the rest.”
Your Ladyship, let Ghana speak the rest. Let your legacy not be one of resistance, but of wisdom. Of restraint. Of a dignified departure that protects the very office you have long honoured.
On this note, I respectfully urge the Attorney General and Minister for Justice to help facilitate a path of dignified resolution. For the sake of the judiciary. For the sake of Ghana.
May history remember you—not for the battles fought, but for the wisdom to know when to let go.
With the utmost respect, Your ladyship, I remain
Yours very truly,
Seth Kwame Awuku, LL.B., LL.M. (Candidate in Legislative Drafting)
