BY Issah Olegor
Renowned legal scholar and governance advocate, Professor Stephen Kwaku Asare, popularly known as Kwaku Azar, has drawn a compelling analogy between the recovery of stolen bank money and the state’s obligation to retrieve public funds lost through corruption and misappropriation.
In his latest commentary titled “From ABSA to ABAN: The Two-Track Recovery,” Kwaku Azar examines how Ghana’s justice system should simultaneously pursue both civil and criminal actions when public funds are looted, emphasizing that full justice requires a “two-track” approach.
Drawing from a simple yet powerful illustration, he compares a scenario in which an individual robs a bank—say ABSA—and is caught, to one where state funds, belonging to “Aban” (the government), are stolen. In both cases, he argues, there must be two inevitable responses: the recovery of the stolen money through a civil process and the prosecution of the offender through a criminal process.
“Looting is robbery in slow motion,” he writes, adding that the only difference is that when public funds are stolen, the victims are faceless citizens, and the outrage is often diluted by political bias.
According to Kwaku Azar, this misplaced tolerance for political corruption has led to an unhealthy narrative where efforts to reclaim stolen state resources are dismissed as “witch-hunting.”
He insists that looting public funds must be treated with the same urgency and moral clarity as any other form of theft.
In explaining the civil process—which he refers to as “ABAN’s shortcut to recovery”—Kwaku Azar outlines how the state can recover funds efficiently without waiting for lengthy criminal trials.
He highlights the role of the Auditor-General (AuG) and the Attorney-General’s (AG) civil division in this process, which focuses on disallowing fraudulent expenditures, surcharging culprits, freezing assets, and reclaiming funds for public use.
He notes that this civil mechanism has several advantages: it moves faster than criminal proceedings, requires a lower burden of proof (balance of probabilities rather than beyond reasonable doubt), and prioritizes restitution over punishment. In his view, this path is crucial for returning looted resources to essential sectors such as health, education, and infrastructure.
He also points to global examples, citing Nigeria’s Economic and Financial Crimes Commission (EFCC) and Kenya’s Ethics and Anti-Corruption Commission (EACC) as institutions that have successfully used civil recovery as a key accountability tool.
On the other hand, Kwaku Azar identifies the criminal process as “ABAN’s moral arm.”
This path, he explains, focuses on deterrence and retribution by holding offenders personally accountable for their crimes. It involves investigation by the police or the Economic and Organized Crime Office (EOCO), prosecution by the Attorney-General’s criminal division, and conviction through due process in the courts.
The purpose of this arm, he argues, is not only to punish but also to restore the moral integrity of the state.
Convictions, he notes, send a clear message that looting public resources is intolerable and carries serious consequences, including imprisonment, fines, or disqualification from public office.
Kwaku Azar emphasizes that neither the civil nor the criminal process alone can achieve full justice.
He describes the two as complementary systems—one focused on recovering the money (restitution) and the other on restoring moral accountability (retribution).
“Together, they complete justice: one recovers the loot; the other brings the looter to account,” he concludes.
His reflections arrive at a time when public confidence in anti-corruption measures remains shaky, and debates continue about the slow pace of prosecutions and asset recovery in Ghana.
By framing the discussion through this “two-track” lens, Kwaku Azar not only calls for institutional synergy between the Auditor-General and the Attorney-General but also redefines justice as both financial and moral restoration for the state.
In essence, his message is clear: just as a bank robber must return the stolen money and face punishment, so too must those who loot public coffers. Anything less, he warns, leaves justice incomplete — and the conscience of “Aban” unhealed.
