In the Republic of Uncommon Sense, we once appointed a hunter.
Not an ordinary hunter, mind you—but one with a reputation. Sharp eyes. Steady hands. A man trained for one purpose: to chase down the most elusive antelope in the land.
For years, this antelope had embarrassed the forest.
It appeared when it wanted.
Disappeared when pursued.
And seemed to possess an uncanny ability to outrun not just hunters—but consequences.
So the people gathered and said:
“Enough. Let us appoint a hunter who fears no antelope.”
And thus was born the Office of the Special Prosecutor.
THE HUNT BEGINS
The hunter entered the forest.
He studied footprints.
Read the wind.
Followed the broken branches and disturbed earth.
Slowly, patiently, he closed in.
The antelope ran—as antelopes do—but this time, the hunter was prepared. He cornered it. Took aim. Held his breath.
For a brief, beautiful moment… the Republic held its own breath too.
Justice, it seemed, was finally within range.
ENTER HEADQUARTERS
Then, just as the hunter steadied his hand, a voice echoed across the forest:
“Please, kindly consult headquarters before proceeding.”
The hunter froze.
“Headquarters?” he asked.
“Yes,” came the reply. “All final actions must be cleared by the Attorney-General. It is… constitutional.”
The hunter lowered his weapon—slightly confused, but obedient.
He reached for paperwork.
THE GREAT ESCAPE
Now, while forms were being filled, reviewed, stamped, and respectfully resubmitted…
The antelope did what antelopes do best.
It ran.
Not hurriedly. Not anxiously.
But with the calm confidence of a creature that understands the system.
By the time approval would arrive, the antelope had relocated to another part of the forest—possibly with a forwarding address and a legal team.
THE DAY JUSTICE DEVELOPED A SPLIT PERSONALITY
Back in the Republic, something even more fascinating was happening.
In one courtroom, a judge declared:
“Let the hunter proceed. Justice must move forward.”
In another courtroom—same laws, same Constitution, same Ghana—another judge responded:
“No. The hunter may track, but he cannot strike. Kindly refer the matter to headquarters.”
And just like that, justice achieved what even science struggles to explain:
It existed in two states at the same time.
The matter now rests before the Supreme Court.
A NEW JOB DESCRIPTION
The hunter’s role has now been updated:
Track the antelope with diligence
Study its patterns carefully
Gather strong evidence
Then… seek permission before pulling the trigger
One imagines the exchange:
Hunter: “I have located the antelope.”
Headquarters: “Excellent. Kindly attach a covering memo.”
THE RETURN OF FAMILIAR COMFORTS
For some observers, this is not a crisis—it is a homecoming.
After all, the Constitution has always placed prosecutorial power in the hands of the Attorney-General.
So perhaps, they argue, the hunter was never meant to shoot—only to scout.
But others are less convinced.
Because in the Republic of Uncommon Sense, timing is everything.
You do not interrupt the hunt just when the antelope is within sight—unless the antelope has friends in high places.
THE PEOPLE AND THEIR EXPECTATIONS
The real loss here is not merely legal—it is psychological.
For a moment, the people believed the forest had changed.
They believed the antelope could finally be caught—not just chased.
They believed the hunter had teeth.
Now they are asking a quieter, more uncomfortable question:
“Was the hunt ever meant to succeed?”
A MODEST PROPOSAL
If the Office of the Special Prosecutor cannot prosecute, then perhaps we should rename it:
Office of Special Tracking
Bureau of Advanced Pursuit
Department of Evidence Gathering and Forwarding
Or simply:
The Office of “Please Refer to Headquarters”
FINAL WORD FROM THE REPUBLIC
In the Republic of Uncommon Sense, we do not dismantle institutions.
We refine them.
We polish them.
We redefine their mandates—mid-hunt, if necessary.
And when the antelope escapes, we hold a press conference… to assure the public that the footprints remain under investigation.
As for the politicians…
They are watching the forest from a safe distance.
Because in any system where the hunter must seek permission before pulling the trigger…
The antelope sleeps very well at night.
