Who runs the country while politicians are in class?

Public office is a full-time responsibility, not a convenient platform for pursuing personal academic ambitions at the expense of the people.

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There is a growing spectacle of public officials celebrating academic achievements while occupying some of the most demanding positions in Ghana’s governance. The photographs are impressive, the congratulatory messages are generous, and the degrees may be well earned. But beyond the applause lies a question Ghana must stop avoiding: how are these officials balancing their academic ambitions with the responsibilities entrusted to them by the people?

Let us be clear. Education is good. Continuous learning is admirable. There is nothing wrong with a politician seeking to improve their knowledge or acquire additional qualifications. Ghana needs competent leaders who are willing to learn.

However, there is a fundamental difference between improving oneself and allowing personal ambition to interfere with public duty.

Consider the demands of legal education. It requires sustained reading, research, lectures, assignments and examinations. Now consider the responsibilities of a serving minister, who must supervise a ministry, attend official meetings, make policy decisions, respond to national emergencies and account to Parliament and the public.

How are these competing responsibilities reconciled? What arrangements ensure that the business of government does not suffer? And who bears the cost if those arrangements fail?

These are not unreasonable questions. They are questions of accountability.

When public office becomes a personal advantage

For instance, Communications Minister Samuel Nartey George has celebrated the completion of LLM in Professional Legal Practice while Chief of Staff Julius Debrah has also completed a PhD during his tenure in government. President John Dramani Mahama attended Debrah’s graduation ceremony.

Their academic achievements are not, in themselves, evidence of wrongdoing. Nor should anyone be accused of neglecting official duties without evidence. But public officeholders must be prepared to explain how they manage demanding academic programmes alongside demanding professional responsibilities.

The burden of accountability must not fall only on ordinary workers.

A nurse cannot abandon a ward because she has an assignment to complete. A teacher cannot routinely leave the classroom to attend lectures without making arrangements for students.

Why should political appointees be treated differently?

The higher the office, the greater the responsibility to demonstrate discipline and respect for public resources. A minister is not simply an individual building a career. A minister is a custodian of public authority, entrusted with responsibilities that affect millions of lives.

The concern is not that public officials are learning. It is whether their studies compromise their performance or involve the inappropriate use of state resources.

If a programme requires daytime attendance, there should be transparent arrangements, approved leave where necessary, and clear evidence that official responsibilities are being met. If these safeguards are in place, officials should have nothing to fear from scrutiny.

A code of conduct for whom?

President Mahama’s administration has emphasised ethical governance through a Code of Conduct for appointees, which stresses that the national interest must take precedence over personal interests.

That commitment now faces a practical test.

Does the code apply only to obvious abuses, such as questionable contracts and the misuse of public funds? Or does it also demand discipline in how appointees manage their professional obligations while pursuing private interests?

The principle is straightforward: public resources must not be treated as personal property.

The Chief of Staff’s position makes this question particularly important. The office is central to coordinating government business and supporting the supervision of appointees. When the person occupying that office also pursues a demanding academic programme, the public is entitled to ask what standards govern the balance between study and official duty.

This is not an accusation against Julius Debrah. It is a demand for consistency.

If the Chief of Staff is expected to help ensure that ministers comply with the President’s code, the public should be able to understand how the same principles apply to the Chief of Staff. No position should provide an exemption from standards expected of others.

A code of conduct that is strict for junior appointees but conveniently flexible for senior officials is not a code of conduct. It is a hierarchy of privilege.

Do politicians discover their inadequacies only after assuming office?

There is a pattern worth questioning. Why do some politicians appear to pursue additional academic credentials with renewed urgency after assuming public office? Were these ambitions absent before their appointments? If not, why were they not pursued earlier, or planned in a way that clearly protected their official responsibilities?

Public office should not become the moment when personal development suddenly takes priority over public duty.

If an official discovers a gap in their expertise after taking office, there are responsible ways to address it: evening classes, weekend study, distance learning, approved leave or, where necessary, postponing a programme until the end of a term.

That may require sacrifice. But public service is supposed to involve sacrifice.

Ghanaians did not elect ministers to treat their positions as arrangements that can be fitted around personal ambitions. They entrusted them with the responsibility of governing.

A degree may improve an individual’s career prospects. A ministry, however, exists to serve the public. The two interests must never be confused.

Where are the watchdogs?

The silence from civil society organisations is equally troubling. Organisations that routinely demand accountability from public institutions should be asking what safeguards exist to ensure that political appointees do not compromise their duties while pursuing demanding academic programmes.

They need not accuse anyone of misconduct without evidence. But they should insist on transparent standards, public explanations and consistent enforcement.

The Council of State, too, should recognise the wider governance question. It is not a substitute for the President’s disciplinary machinery, nor does its silence establish complicity. Nevertheless, as an advisory body, it can encourage a serious conversation about ethical standards in public service.

Silence is not neutrality. It is a message to every public servant watching. Nobody will ask, so you need not explain.

The international implications matter as well. Ghana cannot credibly promote good governance and institutional discipline abroad while appearing indifferent to questions about how its own officials manage their responsibilities at home. The country’s credibility rests not only on the policies it announces but also on the standards its leaders demonstrate.

Ghanaians are watching

There is a pattern here, and it is an insulting one. Many politicians seem to discover their inadequacies only after the swearing-in, and then they chase credentials from the comfort of public office. The country that voted for them is expected to treat this as admirable ambition rather than a question of public trust.

We do not accept that premise.

Ghanaians know the difference between an official who is improving himself and one whose personal advancement comes at the expense of the responsibilities he has been entrusted to discharge.

Ordinary citizens make painful sacrifices to pay school fees, pursue professional qualifications and support their families. Many cannot afford to leave work to attend lectures because they must earn a living. Those entrusted with the highest responsibilities in the land must, at the very least, demonstrate that their private ambitions do not compromise their public obligations.

The President must ensure that his code of conduct has practical consequences. The Chief of Staff’s office should make the standards for balancing academic pursuits with official duties clear. Civil society organisations should demand transparency. Any credible allegation of misuse of official time or state resources should be investigated fairly, regardless of who is involved.

The demand is simple, and it covers everyone in public office: declare it. Disclose it. Account for it.

Until then, the questions stand.

Whose time? Whose office? And whose country is it that gets shortchanged?

A degree is a personal achievement. Public service is a public obligation. One must never be allowed to undermine the other.

Ghana is not a classroom for politicians to attend between lectures. It is a country waiting to be governed.

By Hannah Agyemang

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