36 years in prison for a mistake at 17 – The forgotten life of a once-promising goalkeeper Akwasi Alhassan
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Akwasi Alhassan — once Ghana’s rising goalkeeper — now forgotten behind bars for 36 years after a teenage mistake.
36 Years Behind Bars for a Teenage Mistake – The Forgotten Story of Ghana’s Lost Goalkeeper Akwasi Alhassan
“Pray for me,” Akwasi Alhassan whispers as he hands over a worn photograph of himself standing beside the late Christian Atsu at Nsawam Medium Security Prison. In the background, inmates gather around a football field — their makeshift stadium, their only escape. This is where Alhassan, once a talented young goalkeeper, relives the echoes of a dream that ended too soon.
At just 17, Alhassan’s life changed forever after a fatal altercation with a friend. “We had a fight. I had a key in my hand and used it. He died at the hospital,” Alhassan recalled, his voice heavy with remorse. That single, tragic moment in 1989 led to a murder conviction and a death sentence in 1993. He has now spent 36 years behind bars.
Born in Kwesimintsim, Takoradi, Alhassan once harbored dreams of making it big in football. He was part of Ghana’s first Under-17 team in 1988 and had the admiration of top local talents. “Alhassan was extremely good,” recalled former Black Stars forward Augustine Ahinful. “No goalkeeper in the country could match him at the time,” added Yaw Preko, now a coach.
Now 36 years into incarceration, Alhassan’s once-promising life has faded into near-obscurity. More than half of Ghana’s population has been born during his imprisonment. “I don’t even know how my house looks like,” he says quietly, his gaze low and eyes wet with tears he’s been shedding for decades.
Yet in this place of regret and confinement, football lives on. Matches are played regularly at Nsawam, complete with referees, commentators, and coaches — all inmates. They cheer and remember Alhassan. He is still “the goalkeeper” in their minds. Former players like Samuel Osei Kuffour and Augustine Ahinful visited recently, drawing cheers from the inmates. Alhassan stood quietly, perhaps imagining the career he could’ve had, the stadium roars he missed.
What’s heartbreaking is that Alhassan’s name once appeared on a leaked list for presidential pardon. It was later withdrawn without explanation. “He hasn’t been lucky,” Ahinful lamented. His story is not just about a lost career but also about a lost opportunity for redemption — and justice delayed.
And his case is not isolated. A prison officer shared stories of others — a woman on death row after accidentally pushing her husband during a playful meal, and a young boy jailed 23 years after being mistaken for a thief. These stories echo a deeper issue: a justice system that sometimes punishes the immature as if they were irredeemable adults.
In the crowd at Nsawam, young men with extraordinary football talent play. One was praised by ex-national captain Yussif Chibsah. Another, a midfielder in a blue jersey with the number 10, caught Kuffour’s eye. “He’s from my place,” he proudly said. Yet, like Alhassan, they remain caged.
Alhassan is not asking for pity — only prayer and a chance. He admits his mistake and has paid for it with every sunrise seen through iron bars. “Please help me,” he said, his voice trembling not from fear, but from hope — fragile, but still alive.
He was not a criminal by design. He was a child, a teenager who acted in haste and ignorance. Our laws may demand justice, but our humanity must demand mercy. “Don’t we all deserve a second chance?” asked Deputy Director of Prisons, Patrick Seidu.
Justice without compassion isn’t justice at all — it’s punishment for the sake of punishment. Alhassan’s story calls us to rethink how we treat juvenile offenders, and whether redemption is truly possible in our justice system.
For 36 years, he has waited. Waited for someone to listen. Waited for mercy. Waited for a second chance.
His parting words still linger: “Pray for me.” And so we must.
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