General

There is quiet gold beneath our feet. Yet, I can’t find plantain to buy, and it frustrates me. Some time ago, watermelon was also so hard to come by that its price soared from 10GHS to 40GHS for one. One guy offered me 75GHS, for one. I said “Take it!” There is a quiet revolution waiting to unfold beneath our feet, one that doesn’t shimmer like gold or flow like oil, but holds just as much long-term value. I am talking about food. Not merely the calories themselves, but the systems that produce, store, distribute, finance, insure, and export them. These systems, collectively known as the African Food Economy, are often underestimated, fragmented, and undercapitalised. However, they are poised to become a significant, structured asset class. You might expect me to advocate for investment in the sector, but that’s not what this is about. Ok perhaps it is but it also serves as a call to reimagine Africa’s food systems as a high-impact, climate-resilient, commercially viable sector. From land and logistics to agri-tech and cold storage, every element is measurable and trackable. And when these elements are coordinated, they become attractive for investment. WHY ‘FOOD AS AN ASSET CLASS’ IS NOT A METAPHOR Institutional investors already participate in agricultural markets. Examples include commodity markets, farmland REITs, and futures contracts. However, what Africa offers presents a different type of value. The food system here is not yet financialised, yet demand is immense and the need for resilience is vital. Africa’s food import bill is projected to exceed $110 billion by 2025, according to the African Development Bank. By viewing food systems as an asset class, we begin to ask different questions: How can we develop revenue-generating storage systems? Where do we integrate fintech for farm-to-market financing? What are the returns on irrigation compared to rain-fed risk exposure? In short, we should stop viewing food security as solely a humanitarian issue and begin considering it as economic infrastructure. These systems generate value, and that value ought to be captured. WHAT MAKES A FOOD SYSTEM INVESTABLE? Every strong asset class has five things: Africa’s food economy ticks all five, at least in parts. But it’s fragmented. The goal now is to link the pieces into financeable instruments. Let’s break down some of those investable nodes: Primary production: High-value crops such as cashew, shea, maize, and soya are commercially viable when bundled through aggregators and cooperatives. Ghana’s northern corridor is seeing an increase in cashew farming, but yields remain inconsistent due to a lack of technical and financial support. Storage & aggregation: Warehouses, silos, and digital inventory systems decrease post-harvest loss (sometimes up to 40%) and can generate rental income. In Techiman or Tamale, community grain banks could easily serve as micro-logistics hubs if adequately financed. Processing infrastructure: SMEs transforming raw inputs into shelf-stable or export-ready products generate value and create jobs. A shea nut is much more valuable when processed locally into butter or cosmetics. Cold chains: These are especially vital for meat, vegetables, and dairy. It requires coordinated investment in off-grid solar-powered refrigeration. Automation is also an idea I explored with a cold store once. It significantly changes how financial institutions view things when technology and predictability are high. Logistics and last-mile: From haulage to motorbike delivery for urban markets. Fleet financing models (like Pay-As-You-Go) are already in use, and platforms like MAX.ng in Nigeria or Jetstream in Ghana demonstrate what’s possible. Insurance and fintech: Index-based weather insurance, mobile payment-linked lending, and blockchain traceability are already being piloted in Kenya, Nigeria, and parts of Ghana. Products that reward yield improvements and climate-smart practices could help build a credit profile for farmers who have never used a bank. Each of these nodes can attract private equity, development finance, and even sovereign wealth participation if bundled with the right data and de-risking instruments. FROM GRANTS TO GROWTH CAPITAL One of the most urgent transitions for the continent is from grant-funded agriculture to commercially structured agri-finance. That doesn’t mean abandoning subsidies or development aid. But it does mean recognising that subsidies should spark, not replace, private capital. Food system investments should be structured similarly to infrastructure deals, featuring blended finance, layered risks, and exit pathways. For example, a $50 million agro-industrial park might be supported by a development loan from AfDB, complemented by equity from Ghanaian pension funds, and protected against risk through crop yield insurance backed by the Ghana Incentive-Based Risk-Sharing System for Agricultural Lending (GIRSAL). When these layers work together, expected returns can be achieved across different risk levels from concessional lenders to institutional investors. GHANA’S POSITION AS A TESTBED FOR ASSET-CLASS THINKING Ghana is uniquely positioned. Here’s why: This makes Ghana the perfect testbed. Not for experimentation, but for demonstration. If we can build structured agri-finance products here, the model can scale continent-wide. We should view Ghana not as a pilot site, but as a proof-of-concept for a continent-wide transformation. INVESTOR APPETITE IS SHIFTING AND AFRICA MUST BE READY Climate-aware investing is no longer niche. BlackRock, the world’s largest asset manager, has announced climate as a core investment principle. Others are following. That makes food systems, especially regenerative, localised, climate-resilient ones, a top opportunity. But readiness matters. Investors want: Africa’s job is not to beg. It is to prepare. Let’s turn high-potential projects into bankable deals. Let us demonstrate that food is a reliable, even superior, store of value. Transform tractors and silos into instruments of economic security. FEEDING PEOPLE SHOULD BE PROFITABLE Profitable. Not exploitative. Just profitable. When the basic act of feeding cities becomes a smart financial decision, capital will follow. And when capital flows in for the right reasons, systems strengthen. I have tried not to be all “give us money” “give us money” “give us money”. But rather, “giving us this money is a smart financial decision oo and not different from the other asset classes you invest in”. Let’s not wait for donors to fix the food economy. Let’s structure it to attract growth capital, deliver climate outcomes,

“Garbage in, garbage out.” But in today’s digitised economy, that phrase underestimates the problem. Dirty data is more than a nuisance. It’s a silent threat that can sabotage strategies, undermine innovation, and cost organisations millions without a single alarm bell ringing. Yet many businesses, even those that champion digital transformation, still treat data integrity as an afterthought. And by the time they realise the impact, the damage has often compounded beyond easy repair. Let’s unpack the dangers of dirty data and why it’s time we start treating data hygiene with the same seriousness as financial controls or cybersecurity. WHAT IS DIRTY DATA? Dirty data refers to information that is inaccurate, incomplete, inconsistent, duplicated, or outdated. It takes many forms: Misspelt names or incorrect entries in customer databases. Duplicated records, such as the same supplier listed twice with slightly different spellings. Outdated information, like an employee’s old job title still appearing in internal systems. Incorrect data types, such as text in a numeric field. Missing values, for example, sales transactions with no timestamp or customer ID. These errors might seem trivial to many. But when they spread across supply chains, financial models, marketing campaigns, or compliance systems, they distort reality, and distorted decision-making follows suit. THE HIDDEN COSTS & NUMBERS THAT SHOULD CONCERN YOU I wish I could cite Ghanaian surveys, but this also serves our purpose: In the United States, a 2021 survey by IBM estimated that poor data quality costs the US economy more than $3 trillion annually. On an organisational level, Gartner found that bad data costs businesses an average of $12.9 million per year in wasted resources, rework, lost opportunity, and reputational damage. But these aren’t losses that appear on a standard income statement. They hide in many forms. Inventory write-offs because of misaligned stock records. Poor customer retention due to mismatched or confusing contact histories. Failed AI or machine learning initiatives that were trained on flawed datasets. Regulatory fines for misreporting, especially in sectors like finance or health. In Africa’s fast-growing digital and financial ecosystems, where mobile money platforms, e-health records, and precision agriculture are all reliant on accurate inputs, the stakes are even higher. Dirty data can directly harm development outcomes. A REAL-WORLD CAUTIONARY TALE Consider the case of a global retailer that launched a loyalty campaign using data from its customer database. It was meant to be hyper-targeted with personalised messages, tailored offers, and location-based deals. Except that there is one thing out of place: the data was wrong. Some customers received offers for items they had already bought. Others got messages addressed to the wrong name, or worse, deceased family members. The campaign had to be pulled. Customer trust took a hit. The CMO resigned. What went wrong? The data team had warned about inconsistencies in the CRM. But in the rush to execute, nobody took the time to fix it. That’s the thing about dirty data; it often doesn’t scream. It whispers… until it explodes! HOW DIRTY DATA HAPPENS Data doesn’t become dirty on its own. It becomes dirty because of the systems, habits, and incentives surrounding it. Common causes include: Human error: Manual data entry is prone to typos, omissions, or formatting mistakes. Lack of validation rules: Systems that don’t enforce data standards allow garbage to enter. Siloed systems: Different departments maintain their own databases without synchronisation. Poor migration practices: Moving data between platforms without quality checks. Neglected maintenance: Over time, data decays. It means that people move, suppliers change names, prices shift, etc. Additionally, a less discussed factor is organisational culture. When data ownership is unclear, or when teams aren’t held accountable for accuracy, dirt accumulates. And then it becomes someone else’s problem until it becomes everyone’s problem. DECISIONS BUILT ON SAND The most dangerous consequence of dirty data isn’t operational inefficiency, but rather strategic misdirection. Think about the number of critical decisions that hinge on data, from market forecasts, investor reports, pricing strategies, risk models, HR policies, and a whole lot more. When that data is flawed, even the most well-intentioned leadership ends up operating from fiction. An NGO may misallocate aid based on outdated census figures. A fintech may over-lend to a region due to duplicated customer profiles. A factory may underproduce because its demand forecasting system is fed bad order history. A Government might… a lot can go wrong. The tragedy is that these entities often get everything else right. Intelligent people, solid frameworks, good intentions. But if their data foundation is flawed, the results will always be disappointing. DIRTY DATA IN THE AGE OF AI The rise of artificial intelligence, predictive analytics, and automation elevates the risk even more. Algorithms are only as effective as the data they are trained on. If your AI is learning from dirty data, it’s hallucinating oo. It’s not learning. A predictive maintenance system that flags machinery at risk of failure based on sensor data will produce false positives (or worse, false negatives) if the sensor readings are off by even a few points. A credit scoring model may unfairly deny loans to creditworthy individuals if their transactional data is incomplete or misclassified. This isn’t a future problem. It’s a now problem. The more decisions we delegate to machines, the more critical it becomes to ensure the data guiding them is clean, current, and contextually accurate. WHAT ORGANISATIONS CAN DO TO IMPROVE DATA HYGIENE? The fix isn’t as flashy as blockchain or AI but it’s far more urgent. Here are a few practical steps every organisation should be taking. Every dataset should have a clear owner, someone accountable for its accuracy, structure, and purpose. Without ownership, there’s no accountability. Don’t let bad data in the front door. Use dropdown menus, data masks, mandatory fields, and automated checks wherever possible. Use algorithms to spot and merge duplicate records. This is especially crucial in CRM, ERP, and e-commerce systems. Treat data hygiene like dental hygiene. Be routine about it, not reactive. Schedule periodic audits, cleansing, and enrichment cycles to maintain data integrity. People cannot fix what they do

Tomatoes from Burkina Faso, onions from Mali, rice from Vietnam, frozen chicken from Brazil. Ghanaian markets are flooded with food imports that, on paper, are cheap. They stabilise supply, offer variety, and often undercut local prices. But what looks like affordability on the surface hides a structural imbalance that threatens long-term food security in our beloved country. Let me clarify that imports are not the enemy. But dependency is. Food security isn’t just about producing enough. It’s about sovereignty over what we eat, resilience when global supply chains wobble, and the ability to feed a population without always relying on foreign reserves. When a country becomes overly dependent on external food sources, it loses control over its meals, as well as bargaining power, national pride, and the capacity to plan effectively for future shocks. AFRICA’S FOOD IMPORT PARADOX Africa imports approximately $50 billion worth of food annually, with projections to reach $90-$110 billion by 2025 if no significant changes are made. Last year, Ghana’s food import bill surpassed $3.5 billion, with some sources even reporting it approaching $4 billion, including staples we can produce locally. These include rice, poultry, cooking oil, sugar, and even basic vegetables during the off-season. The irony? Much of this import expenditure could be redirected towards strengthening local agricultural capacity and value chains. Why do we still import so much? Because imported food often seems cheaper, but this superficial affordability conceals longer-term, systemic costs that are more difficult to quantify. Job losses in local farming, processing, and distribution chains weaken rural economies and drive youth out of agriculture. Pressure on forex reserves forces governments to spend precious foreign currency on importing food rather than investing in domestic industries. Vulnerability to global price shocks, as seen during COVID-19, the Russia-Ukraine war, and recent tensions between Israel and Iran, causes sudden food shortages and price increases. The loss of food culture and biodiversity happens quietly. When markets favour foreign varieties, local crops and cuisines start to vanish. This is how dependency creeps in. One container at a time, we outsource the backbone of our food system. Over time, we no longer grow what we eat, or eat what we grow. WHY ‘GROW MORE FOOD’ ISN’T ENOUGH Many policy responses focus on increasing agricultural yield: more fertiliser, improved seeds, mechanised farming. These are necessary interventions. But they address only the tip of the iceberg. Because even when we produce more, the rest of the system often fails: Post-harvest losses in Ghana range from 20% to 40%, especially for perishables like tomatoes, yam, and plantain. These losses result from inadequate storage, transport delays, and poor handling. Market linkages remain fragmented. Rural farmers often struggle to find buyers promptly or are compelled to sell to middlemen at exploitative prices. Storage infrastructure is inadequate. Without warehouses, cold chains, and silos, bumper harvests lead to temporary surpluses followed by shortages. Input dependency persists. Even when yields rise, they’re often driven by imported fertilisers, chemicals, hybrid seeds, or fuel for tractors, meaning any disruption to global supply chains threatens domestic output. Ergo, merely increasing productivity without fixing value chains can make our food systems more fragile, not less. CHEAP IMPORTS HOLLOW OUT LOCAL MARKETS Ghana’s poultry industry is one of the most cited examples of this hollowing-out effect. In the early 2000s, local poultry farms met over 90% of domestic demand. Today, over 80% of the chicken consumed in Ghana is imported, often from the US and the EU. These imports are typically frozen leftovers in my opinion, dark meat that is less preferred in export markets and sold at low prices due to foreign subsidies. Local poultry farmers struggle to compete. Not just on price, but also on access to processing facilities, veterinary support, and cold-chain distribution. The downstream effects? Loss of rural jobs, reduced food quality control, and rising health concerns over antibiotic use in imported meat. It’s a similar story with rice. Ghana produces quality rice in regions like Volta, Upper East, and Ashanti, yet imported varieties dominate supermarket shelves. The “Eat Ghana Rice” campaign has gained cultural traction, but local rice still faces obstacles like inconsistent packaging, branding, marketing, and logistics. These are competitive disadvantages that prevent local industries from scaling. FOOD SECURITY IS A VALUE CHAIN ISSUE Real food security is not just about farming. It’s about interlinked systems within various sectors that transform raw crops into reliable meals. Local value addition must become standard. For example, Ghana grows plenty of tomatoes, yet we import tomato paste. Processing capacity must rise to prevent waste and retain value. Agro-logistics is key. This includes cold rooms, real-time tracking, rural road networks, and last-mile delivery systems. Without these, urban markets cannot depend on rural produce. Finance access remains too shallow. Smallholder farmers and agro-SMEs need better tools like cooperative credit schemes, crop-indexed insurance, and grant-matched funding. Consumer culture is important. Ghanaians need to trust, prefer, and feel proud to buy Ghana-made food. That means investing in safety standards, attractive packaging, and public campaigns that reframe local food as premium, not inferior. From farm to fork, every link matters. And every break in the chain makes us more vulnerable. THREE POLICY PIVOTS GHANA CAN MAKE We can develop a National Food Balance Sheet. We must monitor, in real-time, what we grow, import, consume, and store. This data-driven mapping helps forecast shortages, guide investments, and make smarter trade decisions. It can also support targeted subsidies and emergency planning. We can modernise agro-industrial clusters. Various national agro-projects have laid foundational infrastructure. But we must build on that by integrating digital tools, shared R&D labs, quality control centres, and logistics services. Think of it as a contemporary ecosystem for agri-processing SMEs, not just isolated entities. We can link trade and nutrition policies together. Food policy is more than just filling stomachs; it concerns health and national stability. Ghana must ensure trade policies do not encourage ultra-processed imports while local crops decay. Tariff policies should support nutrition goals, climate resilience, and rural employment. CHEAP FOOD IS NOT THE SAME AS SECURE FOOD. The true cost of cheap