Justice, memory, mental health: Rethinking trial of Chief Justice
The ongoing process to remove Ghana’s Chief Justice, Her Ladyship Gertrude Torkornoo, has generated significant public interest.
While many discussions have rightly focused on constitutional matters and judicial independence, recent developments—particularly the Chief Justice’s application for an interlocutory injunction—compel us to look deeper.
This is no longer just a legal matter. It is also about human dignity, the nation’s painful history and the mental health implications of how justice is administered.
At the outset, let me clarify that this article does not seek to comment on the legal merits of the ongoing case, nor to influence judicial proceedings.
The intention is to reflect on the broader psychological, historical and human rights dimensions associated with how legal processes are conducted—particularly in the public interest.
As a clinical psychologist with over two decades of professional experience, a long-time human rights advocate and a former counsellor at the National Reconciliation Commission, I am both qualified and morally obligated to speak.
What I see unfolding raises serious concerns about the psychological impact of this process—not only on the individual involved but on our collective national psyche.
Why Osu Castle Matters
Location is never neutral. Symbols speak. History has weight.
Osu Castle is not just a building; it is a living monument of Ghana’s difficult past—slavery, colonialism, military regimes and the abuse of state power.
Many Ghanaians still associate the Castle with fear, disappearances and dehumanisation.
It is, therefore, alarming that hearings concerning the Chief Justice are being held at this very site.
The Castle, with its ghosts of state brutality, is a troubling venue for what many see as a politically sensitive process.
Justice must not only be done but be seen to be done—and the optics of the Castle raise uncomfortable questions.
Therapeutic jurisprudence is a legal approach that considers how laws and legal processes impact psychological well-being.
It reminds us that the way justice is carried out can either heal or harm.
Justice Torkornoo’s affidavit alleges she was subjected to body searches and denied access to her phone and laptop—while her accusers’ counsel had full access.
Her family was also reportedly barred from attending the hearing.
These are not just procedural missteps. They are potential violations of the right to dignity, with serious mental health consequences.
In her own words, she described the treatment as “inhuman and degrading,” adding, “They want to break me.”
That is not the language of political drama—it is a cry for fairness in a system that appears, at least to her, to be tilted and punitive.
The Constitution of Ghana is clear: everyone is entitled to respect for their dignity, a fair trial and humane treatment.
If we ignore how processes affect a person’s psychological well-being, we risk turning legal proceedings into instruments of mental and emotional torment.
Emotional cost of history
For many older Ghanaians, especially those who lived through military regimes, the idea of a loved one being summoned to the Castle—alone—is not just unsettling. It can be emotionally destabilising. It evokes memories of arrests from which people never returned.
In a democratic Ghana, we must do everything possible to avoid reawakening those collective traumas.
In my time at the National Reconciliation Commission, I listened to many harrowing stories.
I saw, firsthand, the lifelong damage that trauma from state action can cause.
That history must guide how we handle sensitive national issues today.
The psychological cost is too high to ignore.
We are encouraged by national campaigns to “say something” when we see something.
Today, I say this: justice must be administered in a way that respects mental health, human dignity and our national memory.
The trial of a sitting Chief Justice—regardless of its legal merits—must not trample on these values.
Justice is not just about verdicts and procedures.
It is about fairness, decency and healing.
We must ensure that our systems do not replicate the very harm they are meant to correct.
Let us not allow the ghosts of our past to shape the way we treat those in our present.
Let us build a justice system that heals.
The writer is Head,
Department of Psychology and Social Work,
Methodist University Ghana.
E-mail: abekoe@mug.edu.gh