Given how the matter had unfolded, the judge handling the case eventually struck it out.
On paper, that should have brought some clarity. In practice, it only sent us back to where we started—Rent Control (RC).
While regrouping, we carried out another routine inventory inspection of the property. What we found this time raised fresh concerns.
There were noticeably more people occupying the house than had originally been agreed.
The property no longer felt like a single-family residence.
Activity had increased, movement was constant and control over the space was clearly slipping.
Unfortunately, while this was a clear red flag operationally, it exposed another painful lesson: unless occupancy limits are expressly stated in a tenancy agreement, enforcement becomes difficult.
We had such limits on our Airbnb platform, but they were not explicitly captured in this agreement.
It was yet another reminder that assumptions—even reasonable ones—offer no protection when disputes arise.
Worsened
As the situation worsened, we were advised to escalate the matter from the district RC office to the main RC office in Accra.
We followed that advice, hoping a higher level of oversight would bring resolution.
At the same time, we explored every possible legal route to secure authorisation to evict the tenant lawfully.
Every attempt failed. Procedure after procedure. Door after door.
Hearings at the Accra Rent Control were scheduled. Each time, we showed up, but the tenant did not.
His lawyer appeared on his behalf, requested adjournments, and the cycle continued.
By now, four full months had passed. Four months of occupation. Four months of no rent. Four months of uncertainty.
Then, unexpectedly, we received a letter from the tenant’s lawyers requesting our payment details so their client could “settle outstanding rent.”
For the first time in a long while, this looked like progress. We responded promptly and provided the requested details. Days passed. Then weeks. We sent reminders. Then more reminders. No payment came.
Hearings
At one of the RC hearings, the tenant’s lawyer made a statement almost in passing—he indicated that his client was considering filing the matter at the Accra High Court.
That single comment changed everything. If that happened, RC proceedings would have to pause. Indefinitely. No timeline.
No certainty. Just more delay, more cost, more loss, all while the tenant remained in occupation.
At that moment, the reality set in.
This was no longer about resolving a dispute. It had become a test of endurance.
And we had reached our limit. What happened next marked a turning point—one that took the matter beyond patience, beyond procedure, and into decisive action.
Ordeal
Throughout this entire ordeal, there was a constant and deeply unsettling presence in the background.
The tenant frequently relied on an individual who claimed to be an officer from National Security.
This person appeared regularly, spoke with authority, and positioned himself as someone who could influence outcomes.
For us, this was disturbing not just because of the intimidation it created, but because it suggested that institutions meant to uphold the law were being invoked to shield conduct that clearly violated it.
Even more troubling was watching this unfold while legal professionals continued to front the process.
Five months had passed. No rent had been paid.
No possession had been recovered. And yet, the tenant remained firmly in place, protected by delay, process, and perceived power.
By this point, we knew that doing the same things repeatedly would not produce a different result.
Fortunately, we received expert advice that shifted our approach entirely. Instead of reacting within the same loop, we decided to escalate responsibly and formally.
First, we wrote to the National Security Secretariat, requesting confirmation of the employment status of the individual who claimed to be an officer.
We needed clarity.
If he was indeed an officer, then his conduct required explanation.
If he were not, then the implications were even more serious.
Next, we filed a formal petition to the Judicial Secretary and the Chief Justice, raising concerns about the conduct and posture of the tenant’s counsel throughout the matter.
This was not done lightly.
We carefully documented the timeline, the repeated adjournments, the non-appearances, and the pattern of delay that had caused significant loss.
In addition, we submitted a detailed petition to the Ghana Legal Council.
In that petition, we laid out the full history of the case: what we had endured, the procedural tactics employed, and the impact of those actions.
Our request was simple: intervention, oversight, and accountability.
Not retaliation. Not shortcuts. Just justice.
For the first time in months, the balance began to shift.
What followed was immediate and telling.
The silence that had once worked in the tenant’s favour suddenly disappeared.
Responses came faster.
Positions changed.
The atmosphere around the case transformed.
That moment when institutions were formally engaged and records were placed on file changed everything.
Petition
The petition was submitted on a Thursday.
By Friday evening after 5 p.m., we noticed several missed calls.
They were from the tenant’s lawyers.
We did not return them immediately.
We waited until Monday.
When we finally spoke, the tone was completely different.
We were told, quite plainly, that their client was now ready to pack out and hand over possession of the property.
The question was no longer about rights, extensions or timelines.
It was about the process.
How should the handover be done?
What steps were required?
That shift did not happen by accident.
Within the same week, we received formal communication from the Ghana Legal Council, acknowledging receipt of our petition and indicating that the matter was under review, with the possibility of calling us in for further engagement.
Momentum had changed. Exactly one week later, we recovered full possession of the property.
No arguments.
No adjournments.
No excuses. Just possession.
