By I was scrolling through the news the other day when a headline stopped me in my tracks: the Financial Intelligence Centre (FIC) in Ghana has frozen all bank accounts linked to Bernard Antwi Boasiako—better known as Chairman Wontumi—and his company, Akonta Mining, over allegations of financial irregularities.
If you’ve been following the ongoing battle against illegal mining in Ghana, this news probably isn’t a total shock, but it’s still a big deal. Chairman Wontumi isn’t just a businessman; he’s the Ashanti Regional Chairman of the New Patriotic Party (NPP), a major political figure in one of Ghana’s most influential regions. So, what’s going on here, and why does it matter? Let’s break it down.
First, a little background on Chairman Wontumi and Akonta Mining. Wontumi has been a prominent name in Ghana for years, not just for his political role but also for his business ventures, particularly in mining. Akonta Mining, his company, has been under scrutiny for a while now. Just a few days ago, on April 21, 2025, the Minister of Lands and Natural Resources, Emmanuel Armah-Kofi Buah, called Akonta Mining a “criminal syndicate” during a press conference, accusing it of illegal activities in Ghana’s forests.
I remember hearing that and thinking, “Wow, that’s a bold statement.” But it’s not hard to see why the government is cracking down—illegal mining, or galamsey as it’s called in Ghana, has caused massive environmental damage, and companies like Akonta Mining have been at the center of the controversy.
The FIC’s decision to freeze Wontumi’s accounts came on April 23, 2025, and it’s a significant move. The FIC is Ghana’s main agency for tackling financial crimes like money laundering, and when they freeze accounts, it’s usually a sign they’ve found something serious. According to a letter from the FIC, all financial institutions were directed to comply with the freeze “pending further directives.”
That means Wontumi and Akonta Mining can’t access their money until the investigation is resolved—or until the FIC decides otherwise. I can’t imagine what’s going through Wontumi’s mind right now. Having your accounts frozen isn’t just a financial hit; it’s a public signal that you’re under intense scrutiny.
What makes this even more intriguing is the timing. Just a couple of months ago, on February 21, 2025, three journalists were brutally attacked by galamsey operators in the Breman-Adomanya forest in the Western Region while reporting on the environmental destruction caused by illegal mining. The Ghana Journalists Association (GJA) condemned the attack, with President Albert Kwabena Dwumfour calling it “barbaric” and pointing out how vulnerable journalists are when covering these issues.
I couldn’t help but wonder if there’s a connection here. Akonta Mining has been linked to galamsey activities, and the violence against journalists shows just how high the stakes are. Could the FIC’s investigation be part of a larger crackdown on the networks fueling illegal mining in Ghana?
Let’s talk about galamsey for a moment, because it’s at the heart of this story. Galamsey refers to small-scale, unlicensed mining, and it’s been a growing problem in Ghana for decades. I first learned about it a few years ago when I saw photos of the Pra River—it looked more like chocolate syrup than water, all because of the silt and chemicals from illegal mining. A 2021 study in Environmental Monitoring and Assessment found that 60% of Ghana’s water bodies are now polluted due to galamsey, with rivers like the Pra and Ankobra showing turbidity levels as high as 14,000 NTU (a measure of water cloudiness).
For comparison, water treatment plants can only handle levels up to 2,000 NTU. The Ghana Water Company Limited has even warned that the country might need to import water by 2030 if this continues. That’s a terrifying thought for a nation known for its natural beauty.
The environmental damage is bad enough, but galamsey also has a human cost. Communities near mining sites are dealing with health issues like kidney failure and birth defects due to water pollution. Farmers are losing their land—Ghana’s famous cocoa farms are being turned into barren pits. And then there ’s the violence.
The attack on the journalists isn’t an isolated incident; galamsey operators often use intimidation to protect their operations. I can’t help but think about the families affected by all this—farmers who can’t grow crops, children drinking contaminated water, and now journalists risking their lives to tell the story.
So, where does Chairman Wontumi fit into this? Akonta Mining has been accused of operating illegally in Ghana’s forests, contributing to the galamsey crisis. The FIC’s investigation into “financial irregularities” could mean a lot of things—maybe they suspect money laundering, tax evasion, or funds being funneled into illegal activities.
The fact that Wontumi is a political figure adds another layer of complexity. The Ashanti Region is a stronghold for the NPP, and Wontumi’s role as regional chairman makes him a powerful player. I wonder how this investigation will affect his political standing—and whether it might expose deeper ties between politics and illegal mining in Ghana.
The government has been trying to tackle galamsey for years. Back in 2013, a task force deported 4,500 Chinese miners involved in illegal operations. When President Nana Akufo-Addo took office in 2017, he promised to end galamsey, even saying he’d put his presidency on the line. There have been some successes—earlier this month, police arrested 13 people and seized 13 excavators in Aboifie, a suburb in the Western Region.
But the problem persists, and companies like Akonta Mining keep popping up in the headlines. I think the FIC’s move against Wontumi could be a sign that the government is finally getting serious about going after the big players, not just the small-time miners.
Still, I can’t help but feel a mix of hope and skepticism. Freezing accounts is a strong first step, but what happens next? Will the FIC’s investigation lead to real accountability, or will it get bogged down in legal battles?
And what about the people on the ground—the communities suffering from galamsey’s effects, the journalists risking their lives to report on it? I hope this case sends a message that no one is above the law, but I also hope it leads to broader change. Maybe better regulations for mining companies, or more support for journalists covering these dangerous stories.
