GOLF CAR TRUTH: Major addresses Decades-Old Rumour Behind Ghana’s Infamous “fa wo to begye Golf” phrase

For decades, one colourful phrase has lingered in Ghanaian political folklore, refusing to disappear with the era that produced it.

“fa wo to begye Golf” to wit, “Bring your buttocks for a Golf car.”

The expression became synonymous with the Acheampong era, often repeated as a cheeky shorthand for a system in which access to government officials and perhaps the promise of a coveted car could allegedly be secured through personal favours.

But Major Patrick Adjei-Ampofo, who served as military assistant to then Head of State General Ignatius Kutu Acheampong and was one of the key figures controlling access to him, says the story Ghanaians inherited is not quite the full story.

In an interview with Kafui Dey, Major Adjei-Ampofo acknowledged that the rumour did not emerge from thin air.

“I heard it. I investigated it myself,” he said. “There were some elements of truth in that, but not on that scale.”

For him, the reality behind Ghana’s notorious “Golf car” story was far more complicated.

At the heart of the controversy, Major Adjei-Ampofo explained, was a simple problem: there were not enough cars.

During the period, vehicle assembly plants, including Kussi Motors and Auto Assemblies, had limited production capacity. Demand far outstripped supply, leaving prospective buyers waiting in long queues for vehicles.

“The queue was so long to get a car,” he recalled.

That shortage, he suggested, helped create the conditions for stories about influence, connections and favours to flourish.

But getting to Acheampong himself was another matter.

As the officer responsible for controlling access to the Head of State, Major Adjei-Ampofo said he did not simply allow people to walk into the office with requests.

Anyone who came through his official channel had to face what he described as “very serious, rigorous questions.”

His first question was simple:

“What do you want to see the head of state for?”

He said he would press petitioners until he was satisfied that they were telling the truth.

“I’ll force the person to tell me the truth,” he said.

That, according to Major Adjei-Ampofo, was his way of protecting the office and himself from people attempting to exploit their proximity to the Head of State.

Yet Major Adjei-Ampofo acknowledged that there were other ways people could reach Acheampong.

He pointed to a colleague known as Joe Appiah, whom he said operated through a side channel and could bring petitioners directly to the Head of State.

According to his account, women were among those who were sometimes taken through this unofficial route.

The revelation offers another layer to a story that has survived for generations largely through rumour, political gossip and popular retelling.

For Major Adjei-Ampofo, however, the distinction between his official role and what others may have done around him is important.

He insists that whatever informal arrangements took place did not pass through his office.

Looking back decades later, Major Adjei-Ampofo says one of the biggest dangers of working close to power was not necessarily the authority itself, but the people who wanted to gain something from that proximity.

His warning is striking:

“It’s the people themselves who will corrupt you,” he said. “If you let them know that you are incorruptible, they will try and corrupt you.”

It is a reflection shaped by nearly five decades of hindsight.

The phrase “bring your buttocks for a Golf car” may have survived as one of the most colourful sayings associated with the Acheampong era. But according to the man who stood close to the centre of power, the reality behind the legend was neither as simple nor as widespread as the rumour suggests.

There may have been “some elements of truth”, he concedes. But “not on that scale.”