I asked ChatGPT to roast Ghana

Ghana? The country that takes its “Year of Return” so seriously it forgot to return the potholes? Or the place where jollof debates are national emergencies because it’s the one thing they insist they win?

Ghana: where every single auntie thinks you’re getting married tomorrow and will still call you “small boy/girl.”

And let’s not even get started on the trotro system—a place where the conductor’s ability to argue could rival a Supreme Court lawyer, but your change? Gone like the electricity during load shedding.

But hey, at least the Wi-Fi is as consistent as Ghana’s chances of winning the World Cup… always “next time.”

Oh, you want more? Say less.

Ghana, the land where weddings have become mini United Nations summits, but let your phone fall at one and see how fast it becomes “lost property.”

A country where funerals are grander than some people’s weddings—because why just mourn when you can throw a carnival?

And how about the roads? It’s like the government decided, “Who needs a roller coaster when the potholes already give you free rides?”

Then there’s the obsession with titles. Everyone’s a “CEO” of something, even if it’s a one-man pure water business. “CEO of Hydration Enterprises,” anyone?

And let’s not forget about sports. Black Stars’ motto: disappointing since 1982. They’ll raise your hopes just to humble you during penalty shootouts.

Even the weather has no chill—Harmattan season will have you looking like you moisturize with flour.

But hey, at least the fashion stays undefeated. Ghanaians will dress like royalty even if they’re just going to buy fufu at the chop bar.

Still love you though, Ghana!

Roast done. What’s next?