The 7 PM Banku Ban: A National Crisis in My Dining Room

Written by;

Klenam Kudzo Dogbe
UG, Political Science Dept.

For the first time in my peaceful, obedient, and occasionally well-fed life, I find myself disagreeing with John Dramani Mahama. Not over politics. Not over policy. But over something far more sensitive, what a grown Ghanaian man is allowed to eat after 7 pm.

Mr President, with all due respect, this one is personal.

You see, your recent pronouncement about avoiding heavy meals like banku after 7 pm has landed in my household like a well-aimed stone in a calm pond. The ripples are immediate. The consequences are devastating. My wife has suddenly become a full-time ambassador of this policy. She now quotes you with the authority of the Constitution itself.

“Even Mahama said no banku after 7!” she declared last night, holding the ladle like a judge with a gavel.

But let me ask: What is a man to do when he returns home at 9 pm, tired from the hustle of the day, and the only thing calling his name from the kitchen is akple with okro soup? Should he ignore it? Walk past it like Joseph fleeing temptation? Impossible.
To some of us, akple is not just food. It is therapy. It is closure. It is the full stop at the end of a long, stressful sentence.

Now, I understand the President’s point. Truly, I do. Health is wealth. Light meals at night, better digestion, longer life, yes, we have heard it all. But sir, have you ever stood in front of a steaming bowl of fresh okro soup at 8:45 pm and said, “No, I will just drink water”? If you have, then you are a stronger man than most of us.

Because in my house, the struggle is real.
My wife has now introduced a new regime: “Evening alternatives.” Suddenly, I am being offered oats, fruits, and something suspiciously called “light soup without swallow.” I didn’t sign up for this kind of suffering.

Meanwhile, the akple sits in the corner like a rejected lover.

Let us be honest; Ghanaians don’t just eat because they are hungry. We eat because it completes the day. We eat because it gives us joy. And sometimes, we eat because the food is simply too good to ignore, regardless of what the clock says.

So, Mr President, I respectfully submit that while your advice is medically sound, it is culturally dangerous. You have unknowingly armed our spouses with a powerful weapon, and some of us are already losing the battle.

As for me, I will continue to negotiate, not fight. Maybe we can agree on a compromise: small akple, medium okro, or perhaps, “just one ball.”

Because at the end of the day, a happy home is important—but so is a satisfied stomach. And mine, unfortunately, does not understand presidential directives after 7 pm.