By Kay Codjoe
The case of Jonathan Amable v. Attorney-General (J1/5/2024) has become more than a constitutional test; it is a mirror held up to Ghana’s system of public accountability. At its heart lies a question that reaches beyond the National Cathedral and the COVID-19 bond: can Parliament’s approval of a budget cleanse every act of expenditure, no matter how executed?
Citizen Jonathan Amable asked the Supreme Court to determine whether the government violated Articles 179 and 181 of the 1992 Constitution by borrowing and spending without specific parliamentary approval. He challenged sections of the Bank of Ghana Act, the Public Financial Management Act, and its Regulations as unconstitutional, and sought a declaration that the USD 10 billion COVID-19 Relief Bond and the National Cathedral financing were unlawful.
The Attorney-General, Dr Dominic Ayine, defended the State, insisting that the expenditures were constitutional because Parliament had already approved the necessary budgets and borrowing frameworks. He argued that the annual Budget, the Medium-Term Debt Strategy, and the Bank of Ghana Act provide sufficient parliamentary authorization. He further claimed that the Cathedral appeared in multiple budgets between 2018 and 2021, implying prior approval by Parliament.
Yet that assertion opens a deeper constitutional dilemma. Parliamentary approval is not a shield against accountability or a substitute for constitutional compliance. The Attorney-General’s claim that these expenditures were lawfully approved by Parliament may satisfy the letter of Article 179, but it does not cure potential breaches in execution. That defence, though technically sound, risks contradictions within Ghana’s accountability system, placing the Executive’s actions under parliamentary cover while bodies like the Office of the Special Prosecutor and the Auditor-General continue to probe possible irregularities or abuse.
Evidence shows that some Cathedral payments began under Ken Ofori-Atta before the project’s full budgetary endorsement, prompting Parliament to summon him in 2022 to explain those withdrawals. Parliamentary approval of a budget does not immunize its execution from scrutiny. The Constitution requires two layers of control: authorization and execution. Authorization gives permission; execution must still follow procedure. Even if Parliament approved the budget, that cannot excuse misapplication, selective disbursement, or disregard for the proper warranting process.
This distinction reflects the balance between rights and responsibility. Freedom of speech does not cover defamation, and parliamentary approval does not legitimize unlawful financial conduct. Parliament authorizes; it does not absolve. Every cedi drawn from the Consolidated Fund must still meet the standards of due process, transparency, and necessity.
The Amable case therefore presents a paradox. The Attorney-General’s legal reasoning may be correct in form but incomplete in substance. Lawfulness must walk hand in hand with accountability. When Parliament approves a budget, it delegates trust, not impunity. The execution of that budget remains bound by the Constitution and by the same principles of integrity that sustain public finance.
This is where Ghana’s accountability chain often breaks. Oversight institutions such as the Auditor-General, the Public Accounts Committee, and the Office of the Special Prosecutor depend on the same parliamentary machinery that approves the spending. When Parliament’s authorization becomes the Executive’s defence, and the Executive’s compliance depends on Parliament’s silence, the system begins to devour its own safeguards.
For the National Democratic Congress (NDC), the case now carries a political sting. The party’s 2024 campaign built its moral case on the claim that the National Cathedral was an illegal, unconstitutional misuse of public funds. That position helped shape public sentiment and fueled electoral momentum. But the Attorney-General’s defence, filed under its own administration, draws a different picture, one that admits the legality of what the party once called unlawful. The NDC cannot escape the irony: the same constitutional interpretation it now relies on shields the very actions it once vowed to punish.
The National Cathedral sits at the center of this institutional and political confusion. It was promoted as a national symbol of faith but executed as a political statement of power. Funds were released before full budgetary endorsement, contracts awarded before proper warranting, and explanations given only after public outrage. The Attorney-General’s filing does not erase those irregularities; it only situates them within legal justification rather than constitutional breach. But legality without propriety is an empty victory.
The broader lesson is that Ghana must move beyond procedural legality to substantive accountability. Budgets cannot be treated as blank cheques, and parliamentary approval cannot be brandished as a legal sword to cut through every allegation of abuse. Each withdrawal from the Consolidated Fund must be justified, documented, and reviewed. Otherwise, future governments will invoke the same defence to sanitize excess, just as past ones did.
For Ken Ofori-Atta, this case may bring mixed relief. If the Supreme Court upholds the Attorney-General’s argument, the former Finance Minister may be cleared of constitutional wrongdoing but not of moral responsibility. The Cathedral will remain his enduring mark, a lawful project executed in the wrong spirit. The Court may affirm legality, but history will still judge the wisdom.
Ultimately, Amable v. Attorney-General asks a question Ghana can no longer ignore: will Parliament remain the guardian of the public purse, or will it become its accomplice?
Kay Codjoe
