For sixty years, the “front door” of the Republic of Ghana has told a lie.
Since 1969, every traveller descending upon our soil has been greeted by a name that represents not our founding spirit of independence, but the traumatic memory of its betrayal.
As we approach the 60th anniversary of the February 1966 coup, our national conscience can no longer give us rest. The announcement of the Accra International Airport Bill is not merely a legislative update; it is an audacious effort to reset the spirit of a nation that has, for too long, lived in a cemetery of conscience.
An airport is never just a facility of concrete and jet fuel. It is the nation’s handshake, the very first sentence we speak to the world.
In 2024 alone, 3.4 million passengers encountered the name “Kotoka” on boarding passes, e-tickets, and departure screens from London to New York. Yet, for six decades, we have forced the world to repeat the name of the man who led the violent overthrow of our founder, Osagyefo Dr Kwame Nkrumah.
How can a democracy that ostensibly denounces coups in its Constitution continue to venerate their architects at its premier gateway?
The proposed restoration to “Accra International Airport” is an act of restorative justice. It honours the Ga-Dangme people, the original custodians who sacrificed their ancestral lands for this facility.
Majority Leader Mahama Ayariga correctly identifies this as the correction of a “historical wrong”. By reverting to the original 1958 name, we move away from the “symbolic hegemony” of military juntas and toward a neutral, geographic identity that belongs to all Ghanaians, not just a partisan few.
Critics, including the Minority in Parliament and some legal scholars, have raised the alarm regarding the “significant costs” of rebranding. They point to expenses for signage, digital updates, and international aviation databases. But what is the price of a compromised national identity?
While Prof. Kwaku Azar warns that a nation at peace does not endlessly rename landmarks, I argue that a nation cannot be at peace while its front door honours the subversion of its destiny.
Furthermore, the technical “complexity” is largely a phantom. Aviation experts confirm that while the name changes, the permanent IATA code “ACC” remains the same. The transition from Jan Smuts to O.R. Tambo in South Africa proved that global aviation systems are resilient enough to accommodate a nation’s moral growth.
This renaming is the crowning jewel of the “Resetting Ghana Agenda”. Under the Mahama administration, we have seen the collapse of inflation from 23.8% to 3.8% in a single year and a historic over 40% appreciation of the cedi. This economic resurgence has provided the fiscal sovereignty required to execute a national vision that is both internally and externally consistent.
We are no longer a nation of “mediocre leaders” content with the status quo; we are a Republic reclaiming its heritage as an economic fortress and a moral beacon.
We must reject the “regional pride” arguments that seek to pit the Volta Region against the state. National asset naming should not be a tribal trophy-hunting exercise. Honouring General Kotoka’s military service belongs in museums and history books, not at the gateway of our sovereign dignity.
The sacred truth is that we cannot fully honour our founding fathers while we welcome our guests at a door bearing the name of betrayal.
The Accra International Airport Bill is our moment of legacy. It is the restoration of our national handshake. Let us finally align our symbols with our values, for a divided national conscience can never build a united national destiny.
It is time to change the dial. It is time to reset the front door. It is time for Accra International.
By Raymond Ablorh
