Ghanaians love Asomdwee– peace. We crave calm homes, harmonious communities, and smooth interactions. It’s woven into our greetings, our proverbs, our very bones. But somewhere along the way, many of us started trading something vital for that surface calm: Justice.
In the family, when Uncle’s hurtful words are brushed aside because “Let’s not fight, it brings shame.” The victim swallows their pain, the offence festers, and the real peace – the kind built on respect and fairness – never comes. We’ve settled for quiet instead of healing.
In the community, when land is grabbed or someone is wronged, the elders push for “settlement” that pressures the victim to accept less than their due. “For the sake of peace,” they say. But whose peace? The peace of the powerful? The peace of avoiding uncomfortable confrontation?
At the workplace, when corruption or unfair treatment is ignored because “Don’t rock the boat, just be grateful you have a job.” We mistake silence for stability, allowing injustice to become the norm.
Peace built on buried injustice is like a house built on termite-infested wood. It looks sturdy for a while. But underneath, resentment grows, trust erodes, and the foundation rots. The quiet isn’t peace; it’s the suffocating silence of unresolved hurt and unspoken anger.
Why do we do this?
We confuse the absence of noise with genuine harmony.
Addressing injustice is hard. It demands courage, vulnerability, and sometimes, facing powerful people or entrenched systems.
It’s easier to tell the victim to “be patient” or “forgive and forget.”
True respect includes holding each other accountable. Forcing someone to accept unfairness “for peace” isn’t respect; it’s enforcing silence.
We deserve the deep, lasting peace that only comes when justice has truly been served. Our peace shouldn’t be built on falsehood. Let’s build it on fairness instead.
E.A-B Kelzi
