Inconvenient truth: When cars, not character, decide our place

There is obvious danger when the size of one’s car determines whether one is waved through the gates of a church or conference, or instructed to park a kilometre away from the very venue attended.

What appears trivial is, in fact, a profound reflection of a deeper malaise: the creeping replacement of character with symbols, substance with appearances, and contribution with possessions.

This is not really about cars.

Cars are simply a metaphor for a mindset. A society that measures worth by the vehicle someone drives will eventually measure leadership, governance, and national destiny by the same shallow standards.

The consequences, as history repeatedly shows, can be devastating.

When status outruns substance

In many African cities, the driveway has become a litmus test of dignity.

A gleaming SUV or luxury sedan earns front-row parking and red-carpet treatment. A modest saloon car is waved aside to dusty overflow spaces.

The “important” are ushered in, while the “ordinary” are left to walk.

This ritual, repeated at churches, conferences, weddings, and even funerals, teaches a dangerous lesson: that wealth is wisdom, possession is purpose, and appearance is achievement.

Citizens internalise this, learning to equate status with substance.

The habit creeps from the car park into the boardroom, the parliament, and the institutions meant to shape the future.

As one African proverb puts it in living colour: when a goat follows the decorated horse, it will one day be eaten by the same hunter.

By following symbols instead of substance, societies allow form to consume function.

The church and the conference paradox

The paradox is sharpest in spaces that preach equality.

At church, all souls are declared equal before God.

Yet at the gates, cars are segregated: V8s and luxury sedans closest to the altar, hatchbacks and motorbikes relegated to the hinterlands.

At conferences, inclusion is promised from the podium, while parking attendants send small cars down gravel roads and usher luxury SUVs to prime spots.

The lesson to the next generation is unmistakable.

They are taught that faith is stronger when wrapped in tinted glass, that wisdom flows best to those closest to the podium, and that value lies not in virtue but in vehicles.

From car parks to governance

Elitism at the gate does not remain confined to parking lots.

It spills into governance.

If car size determines entry at a church, why would it not influence access at a ministry?

If vehicles decide on seating at a conference, why would they not decide whose voice counts in a boardroom?

The result is that competence is displaced by connections, merit by material display.

Decisions about contracts and national priorities are influenced less by evidence and expertise and more by symbols of affluence.

Societies that normalise such bias in small spaces unconsciously legitimise it in larger spaces, including the governance of nations.

The results are always remembered.

The axe may forget that it struck, but the tree never forgets where it was cut.

Nations always remember the cost of decisions made by those who were admitted for their status rather than their substance.

African realities

Examples abound. In Ghana, the Komenda Sugar Factory collapsed despite fertile land and strong demand. Its governance failed not because sugar was unprofitable, but because leadership selection was based on political proximity and appearances rather than technical competence.

Nigeria, Africa’s largest oil producer, spends over $11 billion annually on imported refined petroleum products because corruption and neglect have crippled local refineries.

Campaigns continue to promise industrialisation, yet funds earmarked for refineries and pipelines disappear into private accounts.

In Kenya, scandals involving forged degrees among parliamentarians have eroded public confidence.

In South Africa, tender allocations frequently tilt toward those who arrive in luxury convoys rather than those who present sound technical proposals.

State-owned enterprises such as Eskom and Transnet have been hollowed out by cadre deployment that privileges loyalty over competence.

Each example reflects the same truth: when symbols are rewarded over substance, societies pay the price in wasted resources, broken trust, and missed opportunities.

Global phenomenon

The tendency to prize appearances is not uniquely African.

In the United States, scandals such as Enron showed how lavish lifestyles and inflated reputations masked hollow governance.

In Europe, politicians have resigned in disgrace after being exposed for exaggerating their academic credentials.

In Asia, companies such as Luckin Coffee collapsed when prestige was valued more than performance. But the costs are harsher in developing economies.

For societies still striving to industrialise, misplaced emphasis on appearances is more than hypocrisy.

It is an obstacle to progress, and one that perpetuates poverty.

When appearances corrupt aspiration

Young people learn quickly.

When society rewards appearances rather than substance, it draws the lesson that it is not what you know, but what you show.

A rented luxury car for a weekend may command more respect than years of diligent study.

A borrowed designer suit may open doors that a carefully crafted idea cannot.

Symbols of status may appear large, just as a man’s shadow is longest at sunset, but shadows do not make him taller.

Bigger cars do not make ideas better.

Yet when appearances dominate, aspirations corrode.

Why strive for knowledge when society celebrates only shadows?

Cost of industrialisation

Africa urgently needs thinkers, builders, and innovators to drive AfCFTA, Agenda 2063, and long-term industrialisation.

But when parking bays, rather than contributions, determine entry, the wrong people end up in the rooms where decisions are made.

The results are painfully evident. Factories are built without raw material strategies. Roads are constructed without maintenance plans.

Policies are drafted without realistic structures for execution.

The cocoa industry is the starkest example.

Ghana and the Ivory Coast together produce more than 60 per cent of the world’s cocoa, yet capture less than 5 per cent of the $120 billion global chocolate market.

Raw beans are left in bulk, while profits from processed chocolate stay abroad.

This imbalance persists because systems reward symbolism rather than demand substance. A chicken that spends all day gazing at the sky will not fill its belly.

Admiration of appearances without grounding in substance leaves nations hungry.

Call to churches, conferences, and institutions.

The solution begins with a reset in mindset. Churches must lead by example, treating a worshipper in sandals with the same honour as one in Italian shoes.

Parking must reflect equality, not elitism. Conferences must prioritise intellectual contributions over vehicular displays.

The individual who walked a kilometre to attend may hold insights more valuable than those chauffeured in. Institutions must design access rooted in fairness.

Gates should open for competence, not for cubic capacity.

Citizens must demand that leaders be measured by their record of service, not their record of possessions.

Ghana’s opportunity to lead

Ghana has the opportunity to set the tone. Just as it pioneered Pan-African leadership in the 20th century, it can pioneer a new ethos of substance over symbols in the 21st.

The Ghana Tertiary Education Commission can ensure credibility is tied to performance, not decoration.

The media can spotlight ideas and results rather than convoys and motorcades.

Civil society can refuse to amplify vanity.

Ghana’s cultural wisdom offers the right compass.

It reminds us that wisdom is like a baobab tree, too large for one person to embrace.

The baobab does not require a polished car to be respected; its deep roots and broad branches are evidence enough.

Clarion call for change

It is time for a reset.

Society must stop teaching children that the value of a person lies in the vehicles they drive.

Citizens must end the hypocrisy of preaching equality at the altar while practising elitism at the gate.

Institutions must open their doors to those who bring competence, ethics, and vision, whether they arrive in a luxury car, a modest saloon, or on foot.

The inconvenient truth is this: when cars decide entry, nations lose direction.

Closing reflection

The greatness of a society will never be parked in the front row of a church or conference.

It will be found in the values carried, the service rendered, and the integrity lived, whether one drives a luxury SUV, a modest hatchback, or walks barefoot.

When symbols are mistaken for substance, nations stall.

When substance is restored, nations progress.

The road does not ask who owned the shoe; it only remembers who walked it.

It is time for Ghana, Africa, and indeed the wider world, to remember who truly walked the road, not who simply drove past in the latest car.

The writer is an engineer