ACCRA — In an extraordinary moment in Ghana’s judicial history, suspended Chief Justice Gertrude Araba Esaaba Sackey Torkornoo has taken the unprecedented step of addressing the public directly, alleging severe procedural irregularities and bias in the process seeking her removal from office. Her decision to speak out raises deeper questions about public confidence in Ghana’s justice system, where citizens increasingly believe that influence, not the law, determines outcomes.
Traditionally, judges speak through their rulings, not the media. But Justice Torkornoo’s June 25 press conference represents a dramatic shift—a senior judicial figure abandoning the formal courtroom for the court of public opinion. Her detailed allegations of procedural violations, lack of transparency, and denial of basic legal rights signal a profound mistrust in the very system she once led.
She described the committee’s process as “every step breaking every rule on how justice is delivered,” and questioned the legitimacy of the proceedings—pointing out the lack of statutory power to subpoena witnesses and the withholding of petitions filed against her.
The Chief Justice’s removal process is not only about her conduct—it has become a referendum on the integrity of the justice system. Ghana’s courts have long faced criticism from citizens who believe that outcomes often favour the wealthy, politically connected, or powerful. The fact that the highest-ranking judicial officer in the country now questions the fairness of her own hearing gives weight to these public concerns.
Her comments echoed what many Ghanaians already suspect: “If this model can be tried on the Chief Justice, it can be repeated with everyone.”
One of the most disturbing claims made by Justice Torkornoo was the symbolic use of the Adu Lodge as the venue for her hearing—a site linked to the 1981 abduction and murder of three judges and a military officer, including her own uncle. “Was it chosen to make me feel insecure? I think so,” she remarked, pointing to what she believes may be deliberate psychological intimidation.
In a democracy, public accountability is essential. But when institutions falter, the media becomes a surrogate courtroom—especially in cases involving high-stakes political or legal drama. Justice Torkornoo’s move appears to be an attempt to shift the narrative and win over public sentiment, as official channels seem, in her words, “closed off.”
Analysts say her move is also strategic: public opinion has growing power in shaping institutional decisions in Ghana. As civic trust in traditional bodies declines, leaders increasingly turn to media platforms to frame their side of the story.
Justice Torkornoo’s case exposes more than an internal crisis—it reflects a judicial system facing a legitimacy test. With a growing number of citizens and now its very leadership expressing doubt in procedural fairness, Ghana’s democracy stands at a critical moment.
Whether her claims are validated or not, the broader issue remains: if the Chief Justice cannot trust the system to defend her rights, what does that mean for the average Ghanaian? As the case unfolds, one thing is clear—justice in Ghana is no longer confined to the courtroom; it is now debated, scrutinized, and decided, in part, by the court of public opinion.