In the heartbeat of our cultural legacy lies a sacred code: reverence.
Reverence not just for elders and ancestors, but for the symbols, customs and institutions that have kept our societies grounded for centuries.
Among these, the chieftaincy institution stands tall—a custodian of tradition, history and identity.
Once upon a time, in the villages and towns of Ghana, the name of a chief was spoken with measured breath. His presence inspired silence.
His stool, whether gold or carved from wood, was not just furniture—it was a spiritual embodiment of a people’s authority, memory and collective pride.
Children were taught to greet a chief with downcast eyes and bent knees.
But today, in the age of viral posts and trending hashtags, we are witnessing a troubling erosion of this sacred reverence.
A new culture is emerging—loud, brash and disrespectful.
On the platforms of social media, thrones are now memes, chiefs are subjects of ridicule and tribal leadership is weighed on the trivial scales of visibility, social media followers and public acclaim.
This is not merely a generational shift. It is a silent war against dignity, an unconscious rebellion against the very roots that hold our nation together.
Why must one chief be disrespected in order to elevate another?
Why has recognition turned into rivalry, and identity into insult?
The new discourse suggests that a throne must be famous to be revered.
That unless a king trends, he is irrelevant.
This toxic mindset is sowing discord across our regions.
As a loyal son of the Ga State, shall I rise in celebration of the Ga Mantsɛ, while throwing verbal stones at the Chief of Adeiso, Barima Asare Oduro II?
Can such a citizen expect the people of Adeiso—dignified and proud—to remain silent?
In our multi-ethnic society, where every region, language and clan contributes to the Ghanaian identity, the desecration of one throne becomes an insult to us all.
Let it be declared clearly and without ambiguity that no traditional ruler is more important than another.
While the scale of a kingdom may differ, the essence of leadership remains the same. Every chief rules not over land alone, but over stories, over souls, over heritage.
A stool may not be adorned in gold or accompanied by trumpeting praise, but its value lies in the hearts of those it leads.
The people of every village—from the coast of Elmina to the hills of Akyem—look to their traditional leaders, not just for governance, but for identity.
Disrespecting a chief is akin to desecrating the spiritual ground upon which a community stands.
Plea
This message is not merely a lament—it is a plea.
A plea to our revered kings and chiefs, whose voices still carry the moral weight of a nation.
Your Majesties, your people are watching.
They are echoing your silence and misinterpreting it as endorsement.
We know you are dignified. We know you believe in unity.
But now, more than ever, your intervention is required.
Not in war, but in wisdom. Speak—not to defend your own stools, but to protect the institution itself.
Call your people to order. Address the disrespect festering under the guise of tribal loyalty.
Remind the youth that tradition is not an ornament to be mocked, but a foundation to be upheld.
For if we allow this decay to persist, the thrones may remain, but the respect that sustains them will vanish.
And when the respect dies, the unity dies.
And when unity dies, what shall remain of this great nation?
Let us return, then, to the language of respect.
Let us speak once more with honour. Let our posts reflect pride, not provocation. Let our mouths bless, not belittle.
For in peace lies our strength. And in unity, our true heritage.
The writer is a journalist with the Ghana Broadcasting Corporation.
