Samuel Daniels

Wisdom Turned Weapon: How African Proverbs Institutionalise Corruption

Wisdom Turned Weapon: How African Proverbs Institutionalise Corruption

Welcome back, my faithful Compadres!

In this article, I want to show how African cultures in general contribute to the problem of corruption.  The African culture’s rich tradition of proverbs has inadvertently created a framework that normalises corruption. Ghanaian Akan adages like “the one who fetches water breaks the pot” excuse accountability, while “the grinder’s hands smell of spices” justifies embezzlement of public resources. “We don’t go to a king’s house empty-handed” legitimises bribery, and “when your hand is in it, we don’t eat and leave you” weaponises solidarity to silence whistleblowers. Read on!

Rich Culture full of Adages

The African culture is generally rich in adages. These adages succinctly articulate concepts and ideas in the African context. The nature of the adages reflects the thinking of African people, and many African cultures hinge on these wise sayings. As a people proud of their culture and heritage, they hold dear the wise sayings coined by their forefathers. Understandably, this mindset predominantly shapes every African’s activities, behaviours, and actions. Deep-seated ideas and notions developed through these adages unconsciously shape the worldview of the typical African.

One of the major problems that has long plagued the continent of Africa is corruption. The menace of corruption has ravaged the continent in every sphere—politics, education, healthcare, judiciary, and commerce. Many well-meaning heads of state have endeavoured to address this problem, but their efforts have been neither practical nor sustainable. This is particularly because corruption is a deep-seated problem baked into African culture and mindset. Therefore, an attempt to address these problems should go beyond trivial policies, anti-corruption commissions, and surface-level reforms. Any meaningful intervention must confront the philosophical and cultural foundations that normalise corrupt practices.

 

The Cultural Architecture of Corruption

The African culture condones corruption by design. This trend is evident in some of the adages coined and used by leaders across the nations. These proverbs not only describe behaviour, but also prescribe it, providing moral justification for actions that we would otherwise condemn. In this article, a few of these adages in the Ghanaian Akan context are used to illustrate how these sayings contribute to the problem of corruption. However, similar patterns exist across the continent, from Nigeria to Kenya, from Cameroon to Zimbabwe, suggesting a pan-African cultural challenge that requires urgent attention.

 

"Breaking the Pot": The Alibi of Accountability

One of the most popular adages used by kings, politicians, and leaders across the nation is “nea ɔkɔ asuo na ɔbɔ ahina,” which literally means, “The one who goes to fetch water is the one who breaks the pot.” This implies that, so long as someone engages in a task, it is justifiable for them to keep a record of their losses and, by extension, to benefit personally from the execution of public duties. While this has some connotation of truth—acknowledging that those who work will inevitably make mistakes—many people are using it to cause severe loss to the nation.

Intentionally breaking the pot

Under this mindset, people are held accountable only when they intentionally and obviously cause loss to the state. The problem is that “intentionality” becomes almost impossible to prove, and the adage provides convenient cover for deliberate malfeasance. Politicians award inflated contracts, while civil servants embezzle funds, claiming administrative errors. Project managers deliver substandard infrastructure, hiding behind the excuse that “pots break when you fetch water.” As much as it is essential to leave room for mistakes and unpredictable losses, intentional and meditative actions that lead to losses must be accounted for. Yet this adage has created a culture where accountability is seen as unreasonable, where demanding transparency is interpreted as failing to understand that “work comes with breakage”.

"Scented Hands": The Entitlement to Public Resources

Again, several people holding positions in many parts of the country often use the adage “nea ɔyam hwehwam adeɛ no, ɔmpepa n’ensa kwa“—this literally means that “the one who grinds scented spices does not simply clean their hands.” People often use this maxim to justify helping themselves with the public resources entrusted to them. The logic is straightforward: if you handle valuable things, some of that value should stick to you.

There is nothing wrong with enjoying the fruits of one’s labour; in fact, the Bible encourages it. Ecclesiastes 3:13 reads,

That each of them may eat and drink, and find satisfaction in all their toil—this is the gift of God.

The problem stems from using what one is not supposed to use to the detriment and impoverishment of people. Public servants are not grinding their own spices—they are stewards of communal resources. Yet this adage transforms stewardship into ownership, reframes embezzlement as compensation, and turns public service into private enterprise. Ministers build mansions while hospitals lack basic equipment. University administrators drive luxury vehicles while students lack textbooks. All of this is rationalised with the simple wisdom: “the grinder’s hands must smell of the spices.

"Empty Hands to the Palace": The Institutionalization of Bribery

Arguably, one of the most commonly used adages, particularly in several palaces across the country, is “Ɔhene fie yɛn nkɔ no nsapan“—literally meaning “we do not go to a king’s house empty-handed.” This implies that whenever you go to a chief’s palace, you need to carry a gift with you. On the surface, this speaks to respect, honour, and African hospitality. The problem is not the gift being demanded or being offered. The problem, however, is that sometimes one cannot distinguish between when a bribe is being offered or requested and when a genuine gift is being given. Some of these gifts come with costly strings attached.

One major problem in Ghana today is illegal mining, known locally as “galamsey”. This menace is exacerbated by the fact that it causes many more problems. Water bodies are destroyed, rendering them undrinkable and unsafe. Lands that were used for farming are rendered useless in the process, threatening food security and livelihoods. Forests are decimated, and entire ecosystems collapse. Lands in Ghana are generally stewarded by chiefs who have oversight of the jurisdictions they administer. At the same time, many of these illegal mining activities are spearheaded by foreigners who may not know where to go or which parts of the country have gold and other minerals if some of the chiefs do not authorise them.

A shield for environmental destruction and economic exploitation.

Some of these foreigners go to the palaces bearing gifts, because “we do not go to a king’s house empty-handed.” As a result, they buy the loyalty of some chiefs with a small amount of money compared to what they will gain in the process. The chief receives his “gift,” the foreigner gains access to destroy communal land, and entire communities are left to drink poisoned water and breathe toxic air. When citizens protest, they are reminded that traditional customs must be respected. When activists demand accountability, they are accused of disrespecting cultural norms. The adage becomes a shield for environmental destruction and economic exploitation.

"Hands in the Pot": The Cartel of Complicity

Further, some people often use the adage “wo’nsa wɔ mu a yɛnni nya wo“, which literally means “when your hand is in it, we don’t eat and leave you.” This is often used by people who form a cartel and cut illicit deals for themselves, leaving other people impoverished in the process. The insidious nature of this adage lies in its weaponisation of solidarity, a deeply cherished value in African communalism, and its deployment in the service of corruption.

This is often used to involve people in corrupt deals. A junior official discovers fraud and considers reporting it. A colleague reminds him: “Your hand is in it too—we don’t eat and leave you out.” A procurement officer wants to award a contract fairly. Her superior tells her to take her share and stay quiet: “When the hand is in, we all eat.” A journalist uncovers a scandal. The perpetrators offer him money and invoke communal loyalty: “Your hand is in it now.” Throughout the country, in several sectors, people are conniving with and condoning corruption. It becomes virtually impossible to expose corruption when you yourself are involved. As such, people use this adage to either get themselves involved or pull others into the game. As a result, they get away with their corrupt deals.

Potential Whistleblowers Transformed Into Accomplices

The adage transforms potential whistleblowers into accomplices, converts oversight mechanisms into profit-sharing schemes, and redefines loyalty as silence in the face of wrongdoing. It creates networks of mutual culpability that are nearly impossible to dismantle because everyone has something to lose if the truth comes out.

Beyond Policy: The Need for Cultural Reformation

Every intervention to deal with corruption in Africa must be by design. It must cut to the root of the problem and its very foundation. Anti-corruption legislation, stronger institutions, and international oversight all have their place, but they will remain ineffective if the cultural soil continues to nourish corrupt practices.

What is needed is nothing short of cultural reformation—a deliberate, sustained effort to challenge the philosophical assumptions encoded in these adages. This does not mean abandoning African wisdom or embracing wholesale westernisation. Rather, it means subjecting these sayings to critical examination, questioning whether proverbs coined in pre-colonial contexts of subsistence economies and communal living remain applicable—or ethical—in modern nation-states with public treasuries, constitutional governance, and millions of citizens whose lives depend on institutional integrity.

Redefining the Adages

Religious communities, educational institutions, civil society organisations, and traditional authorities must lead this conversation. New adages must be coined that celebrate transparency, accountability, and the common good. Stories must be told that honour those who resist corruption rather than those who game the system cleverly. Children must grow up hearing that “the one trusted with the pot must return it whole,” that “clean hands honour the grinder more than scented ones,” that “we go to the king’s house with integrity, not bribes,” and that “when wrong is done, we speak—even if it costs us“.

Conclusion

African proverbs carry the weight of ancestral wisdom, distilling centuries of observation into memorable phrases. But not all inherited wisdom serves the present generation well. Some adages, however well-intentioned in their original contexts, have become tools of oppression, mantras of mismanagement, and scriptures of systemic theft. When cultural sayings provide cover for actions that impoverish millions, destroy the environment, and mortgage the future of coming generations, they cease to be wisdom and become wickedness.

The corruption crisis in Africa will not be solved by policy documents drafted in Brussels, Washington, or Beijing. It will not be resolved by another anti-corruption commission staffed by the very people the commission is meant to investigate. It will only be addressed when Africans themselves confront the uncomfortable truth that some aspects of their cherished culture are killing them.

 

Critical Examination of Obsolete Cultural Norms

The continent needs a new generation of leaders—traditional and modern, religious and secular, young and old—who have the courage to say,

This adage no longer serves us. This proverb excuses what it should condemn. This wisdom has become foolishness.

Until African societies muster the moral courage to examine critically and, where necessary, retire the cultural frameworks that normalise corruption, the continent will remain trapped in cycles of poverty, misgovernance, and unfulfilled potential—not despite its culture, but because of it.

The choice is clear: Africa can continue to honour every ancestral saying without question, or it can honour its ancestors by building the just, prosperous societies they would have wanted for their descendants. Proper respect for tradition lies not in its uncritical preservation but in its thoughtful evolution. The proverbs that justify corruption must be challenged, reinterpreted, or discarded. The future of Africa depends on it.

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