It’s the early 1990s. Ghana is still shaking off the turbulence of economic reform. Structural adjustments are sweeping through the financial system. And a former army officer, Prince Kofi Amoabeng, is preparing for his second act. This time, not in uniform — but in a suit.
With little more than grit and vision, Amoabeng founded UT Financial Services, a micro-lending firm that promised something revolutionary: fast loans without bureaucracy. Ordinary Ghanaians — farmers, traders, small business owners — finally had a financial institution that treated them as partners rather than risks. Before long, UT grew into a bank. It became a symbol of possibility, the people’s bank.
Unlike the faceless institutions that dominated the sector, UT had a soul. Amoabeng himself was its brand. He walked the markets, spoke with sincerity, and inspired loyalty across the country. To customers, UT wasn’t just about money — it was about trust.
Along the way, Amoabeng built close relationships with men who would later rise to the pinnacle of power: Nana Akufo-Addo and Ken Ofori-Atta. They weren’t just acquaintances. They were friends. At one point, Amoabeng even gave Ofori-Atta a personal loan when times were tough. That trust, he believed, would one day be repaid.
Then came 2017. The Bank of Ghana launched its financial sector clean-up, a sweeping exercise meant to restore stability. UT Bank was among the casualties. Licenses revoked. Accounts frozen. Years of work erased overnight.
Amoabeng reached out for answers. Surely his old friends would at least grant him a hearing. But when he called Ofori-Atta, the response stunned him: “Speak to my PA.” It was more than a dismissal — it was betrayal. For Amoabeng, the silence from those he once trusted hurt more than the fall of the bank itself.
Today, Amoabeng lives with the collapse of UT as both his crown and his cross. To many, he remains a symbol of Ghanaian entrepreneurship at its best. To others, he is a cautionary tale about risk and governance. But no matter the perspective, his story will forever raise one haunting question: What do you do when the people you once lifted up are the same ones who stand by as you fall?