I went to the Accra Sports Stadium on September 8, 2025, to watch Ghana play Mali in a World Cup qualifier. It was a must-win game for the Black Stars. A night that should have been about football, joy, and national pride. Instead, what I experienced once again was chaos at the gates.
Getting into the stadium felt like a battle. It was not about who had a ticket, but who had the strength to push through. Families with children, women, the elderly — no one was spared. The entry process was so broken that in the end, my friends and I got inside without our tickets even being checked. It makes you wonder: why buy a ticket at all if you can simply force your way in?
This problem is not new. In October 2024, when the Black Stars played Sudan at the same venue, the same disorder took place. That time tickets were sold online, but the gates became a disaster zone. Queues collapsed. People shoved their way through. Some fans who had bought tickets could not enter before kickoff, while others without tickets found their way in. Security could not cope. The whole system failed.
For the Mali game, the organisers tried a new method. Tickets were sold at selected physical points. On the way to the stadium, fans were stopped at several checkpoints. First the tickets were checked, then scanned to confirm authenticity. After that police carried out security checks. On paper, this looked like progress.
But when fans finally reached the stadium gates, another hurdle appeared. Suddenly, tickets were not enough. We were told to go elsewhere and collect wristbands before we could be allowed in. Imagine that. After buying your ticket, passing every check, and walking to the gate, you are now told you need a wristband to enter.
Crowds surged toward the wristband point. There was no proper queue. Soldiers had to step in to control the chaos. Fans were angry, insulted, and confused. With kickoff minutes away, many still stood outside, wondering if they would make it in. Some were even told that the wristbands had finished, which meant their tickets were now useless.
One fan I spoke to said: “I knew how hectic it would be, so I came early. At first it looked smooth, but later it became worse. After all the checks, I still had to get a wristband. And now I’m stranded outside, with 15 minutes to kickoff.”
Another fan, an off-duty policeman, told me he arrived at 3:30pm for a 7pm game. Yet he too was still stuck outside as the match was about to start. If even a police officer could not get in after waiting that long, what chance did ordinary fans have?
The frustration was written on every face. Some cursed football leaders in this country. Others vowed not to come back. And yet, many of us still return, because of our love for the Black Stars. That loyalty is being abused.
It should not be this way. Fans pay money, take time off, and endure traffic just to support the team. The least they deserve is a smooth, dignified entry into the stadium. Ticketing should not feel like war.
The Ghana Football Association cannot continue to look away. Stadium access is as much a part of the football experience as what happens on the pitch. If people have to fight to enter, if tickets are ignored, if wristbands become a tool of frustration, then we are destroying the fan experience at its root.
How long will this continue? Who takes responsibility when fans are locked out, harassed, or forced to abandon tickets they paid for? Why should love for the Black Stars be taken for granted?
Football is supposed to bring us together, not tear us apart at the gates. If the GFA wants to protect the passion of fans, then it must fix this broken system. Respect the ticket. Respect the fan. Respect the game.
Until then, every match day will feel less like a celebration and more like a fight for survival. And slowly, the love for the Black Stars will bleed away.
Source: VoicesofConcern.com
