This is not our war, so why are Ghanaians dying in it?

This is not our war, so why are Ghanaians dying in it?

There are some news stories you read and move on from.

Then there are those that make you stop and think: How did we get here?

The revelation that 62 Ghanaians have died in the Russia-Ukraine war, while another 15 people who travelled to Russia remain missing, is one of those stories.

Sixty-two.

That is not just a number.

That is 62 people who had families, friends, plans and reasons for leaving home in the first place. It is 62 people whose lives have ended in a war thousands of kilometres away from Ghana.

And for what?

This is not Ghana’s war.

Yet Ghanaians are dying in it.

Foreign Affairs Minister Samuel Okudzeto Ablakwa recently disclosed the figures following Ghana’s engagement with the Russian government over the illegal recruitment of Ghanaian youth into the conflict. He said Ghana welcomes Russia’s pledge to work with the government to stop the illegal enlistment of young Ghanaians.

That is certainly welcome.

But it leaves us with a much bigger question:

Why were these young people vulnerable to recruitment in the first place?

Because if we only focus on the people who recruited them, we may miss the conditions that made the recruitment possible.

The truth is that a young person who is desperate for an opportunity can be remarkably vulnerable.

Tell someone who has been searching for a job for months that there is an opportunity abroad with good pay, accommodation and a chance to start a new life, and the offer can sound like a miracle.

It may not matter that the destination is Russia.

It may not matter that the details are unclear.

It may not even matter that the contract contains things they do not fully understand.

The word “abroad” has a certain magic attached to it.

For many people, abroad means opportunity.

It means better wages.

It means a chance to escape financial difficulties.

It means sending money home.

It means finally being able to tell your family, “I have made it.”

And perhaps this is one of the things we do not talk about enough.

We often discuss migration as though people simply wake up one day and decide they want to leave Ghana.

But sometimes, leaving is not really about wanting to leave.

It is about wanting a better life.

And there is a difference.

A young graduate who has spent years looking for work may eventually become willing to consider almost anything that promises income.

Someone supporting a family may look at the salary attached to a foreign job and focus on the money before asking enough questions about the job itself.

Someone who has watched friends travel abroad and return with stories of success may assume that their own experience will be similar.

That is where danger can enter.

Because not every opportunity abroad is an opportunity.

Sometimes it is exploitation wearing the clothes of opportunity.

And that is what makes the recruitment of Ghanaian youth into a foreign war particularly disturbing.

Imagine leaving home believing you are going to work, only to find yourself in a conflict zone.

Imagine discovering that the opportunity you thought would change your life could instead cost you your life.

Imagine your family believing that you have travelled to work, while somewhere far away you are being sent into a war.

There is something profoundly cruel about that.

And then there are the families who do not even know what happened.

Fifteen Ghanaians who travelled to Russia remain missing.

What does “missing” mean to a mother?

It means waiting.

It means hoping.

It means answering the phone every time it rings.

It means wondering whether the next message will finally bring good news.

For some families, there may not even be a body to bury or a final goodbye to give.

This is why the figures deserve more than a few hours of attention in the news cycle.

Because statistics are easy to forget.

People are not.

We should also be honest about the role that social media and informal recruitment networks can play in this environment.

Today, opportunities travel quickly.

A job vacancy can be posted online and shared hundreds of times within minutes. A recruiter can appear legitimate simply because their page looks professional. A foreign contract can be presented in language that sounds impressive enough to discourage further questions.

And because people desperately want the opportunity to be real, they may sometimes overlook the warning signs.

This is why public education matters.

Young people need to know how to verify foreign employment offers. They need to understand the difference between legitimate employment and suspicious recruitment. They need to know what documents they should demand, what questions they should ask and where they can go for verification before they board a plane.

But there is another question we need to ask as a country.

What happens when the safest advice we can give a young person is simply, “Don’t go”?

Because telling young people not to take dangerous opportunities is necessary.

But it is not sufficient.

If a young person has no job, no income and little hope of finding either, “don’t go” may not feel like a realistic solution.

We cannot tell young people to reject exploitation without also creating more legitimate opportunities for them.

We need an economy in which leaving Ghana is a choice, not something people feel compelled to do because they cannot see a future at home.

That does not mean everyone must stay.

There is absolutely nothing wrong with a Ghanaian travelling abroad for work, education or a better opportunity.

Migration has always been part of human life.

The problem is when the search for opportunity becomes so desperate that people are willing to enter situations they do not fully understand.

And perhaps we also need to change the way we talk about success.

There is a certain glamour attached to leaving Ghana.

Someone travels and suddenly everyone wants to know how they can also get there.

Someone posts photographs from a foreign city and the comments are filled with, “Please, how did you do it?”

Someone returns with a new car and people immediately want the secret.

We rarely see what happens behind the photographs.

We do not see the difficult jobs.

We do not see the exploitation.

We do not see the loneliness.

We do not see the people who discover that the dream they were sold is very different from the reality they entered.

And sometimes, tragically, we do not see them again.

The Russia-Ukraine situation should therefore force us to rethink the way we approach foreign opportunities.

Before asking, “How much does it pay?”, perhaps we should ask, “What exactly am I being asked to do?”

Before asking, “When do I leave?”, ask, “Who exactly is recruiting me?”

Before celebrating the opportunity, verify it.

Before sending your passport, understand the contract.

Before boarding the plane, make sure someone at home knows exactly where you are going and what you are going there to do.

These may sound like basic precautions, but when an opportunity appears to offer an escape from financial pressure, common sense can sometimes take a back seat.

Government also has a responsibility here.

The pledge by the Russian government to cooperate with Ghana to stop the illegal enlistment of Ghanaian youth is important. But Ghana’s response should not end with diplomatic assurances.

There needs to be sustained public awareness.

There needs to be stronger monitoring of recruitment channels.

There needs to be a clear system through which prospective migrant workers can verify foreign job offers.

And when Ghanaian citizens go missing abroad, their families should not have to navigate complicated systems alone to find answers.

Most importantly, we need to address the conditions that make young people so susceptible to these offers in the first place.

Because recruitment is only the visible part of the problem.

The deeper problem is desperation.

And desperation does not disappear simply because one recruitment network has been shut down.

Another recruiter can appear.

Another country can become the destination.

Another attractive job offer can circulate online.

Another young Ghanaian can believe that this might finally be their chance.

That is why the lesson from these 62 deaths cannot simply be: Do not go to Russia.

The lesson should be much bigger:

Be careful who you trust with your future.

And as a country, we should be asking ourselves why so many young people feel that their best chance at a future is somewhere thousands of miles away.

Because 62 deaths should be enough to make us uncomfortable.

Fifteen missing people should be enough to make us angry.

And the possibility that more young Ghanaians could still be recruited should be enough to make us act.

This is not our war.

Our young people should not have to die in it.

They left home looking for opportunity.

The least we can do now is make sure that the next young Ghanaian who sees an opportunity abroad knows the difference between a chance at a better life and a journey into danger.