Statues, Self-Praise, and Legacy: Why Akufo-Addo’s Monument at Efiakwanta Misses the Mark.

In the heart of Efiakwanta, a statue of President Nana Addo Dankwa Akufo-Addo has been unveiled, sparking a heated debate across the nation. While the intention behind this act might have been to honor a leader’s legacy, it raises a question: Is erecting a statue to commemorate oneself a noble gesture, or does it reveal something deeper about leadership and the pursuit of legacy?

The concept of self-celebration through physical monuments seems to clash with a deep-rooted principle, “good works speak for themselves”. As the saying goes, “salt does not praise itself; it is the eater who gives it credit.” If Akufo-Addo has indeed made a significant impact during his presidency, then the people of Ghana, in their own way, should have been the ones to immortalize him, through actions that acknowledge his contributions or perhaps, by the establishment of a tribute that truly reflects the people’s gratitude and admiration.

Let’s pause for a moment and reflect on the essence of legacy. True legacy is not built through personal accolades or self-promotion, but through the long-lasting effects one has on their community, their country, and even beyond. Leadership is about empowering others and making decisions that elevate society, not about building monuments to one’s own name. A great leader should let their work resonate through the institutions they leave behind, not through the monuments they construct in their own honor. The tangible impacts the roads, schools, policies, and reforms are what should testify to a leader’s greatness. Not a statue.

There’s something intrinsically uncomfortable about a leader choosing to immortalize themselves in this way. Does it speak of confidence in their legacy or a subtle insecurity? When statues are erected by others, they serve as an external recognition of that person’s contribution. But when a leader commissions a statue for themselves, it can raise concerns about ego and self-aggrandizement. It can send a message that the leader wants their legacy sealed in stone, not through the ongoing work of others or the collective memory of the nation.

On the other hand, we must also acknowledge that everyone has their reasons for their actions. Perhaps Akufo-Addo believes his achievements are worth memorializing, or maybe this is his way of ensuring his place in history. After all, historical figures are often remembered by the markers they leave behind, and maybe this statue is meant to act as a symbolic representation of his tenure. Will this statue truly capture the essence of his presidency, or will it simply stand as another structure, forgotten as time moves on?

The idea of a statue could be a poignant gesture if it were borne out of a collective effort, a tribute not to one man’s rule but to the enduring spirit of the nation. It should come from the people, who are the ultimate judges of a leader’s worth. After all, no leader is above the people they serve.

In the end, the true measure of a president lies in the hearts of those they lead. Statues and monuments may have their place in history, but true greatness is etched into the lives and stories of those who have felt the leader’s impact. If Akufo-Addo has indeed left a legacy that is worthy of praise, it will echo far beyond the physical structures we build in his honor. In the long run, the people will tell the story, and their recognition, if earned, will outlast any statue.

While I can’t say I support the idea of Akufo-Addo mounting his own statue, I understand that leaders are complicated figures, and each decision carries its own weight and rationale. However, I’ll wait to hear his reasoning behind this monument and more importantly, I’ll wait for the people of Ghana to tell us what his true legacy will be.