The once-proud Black Stars of Ghana now cast a dim light over a nation gripped by footballing despair. As the country grapples with the humiliation of having no stadium fit for international matches, we must ask ourselves: how did we sink so low?

The Confederation of African Football's withdrawal of approval for the Baba Yara Sports Stadium is not merely a sad outcome; it is a damning indictment of a nation's failure to cherish its heritage. Stephen Appiah, former captain and beacon of hope in better days, calls it a "national disgrace" for the Black Stars to contemplate playing home games abroad. His words echo through empty stadiums, a ghostly reminder of glory long faded.

But why has this come to pass? The fingers of blame point in many directions, yet responsibility seems to slip through the cracks like sand through an hourglass. The Ghana Football Association, tasked with nurturing the beautiful game, appears more adept at nurturing controversy. Their failures pile up like missed penalties, each one a blow to the heart of a football-loving nation.

The saga of the 2022 World Cup qualification lays bare the rot at the core of Ghanaian football. CAF's temporal approval of the Baba Yara stadium, secured through the intervention of influential figures, was a band-aid on a gaping wound. When FIFA's $9 million qualification bonus arrived, what followed was a grotesque pantomime of greed. Nearly $1 million vanished into the pockets of executives, with each Management Member of the Black Stars pocketing $100,000 for a mere fortnight in Qatar.

What twisted logic justifies such largesse when the very ground beneath our footballers' feet crumbles? How can we explain to the young talents in Kumasi, Tamale, or Accra that there's money for suits in air-conditioned offices but not for the pitches they play on? The absurdity reaches its zenith when we realise that $100,000 – the same amount gifted to a single management member – can help fix the Baba Yara pitch in the interim.

Where is the vision? Where is the plan to restore Ghana to its rightful place at the pinnacle of African football? The GFA's stumbles are countless, from mismanagement of funds to the inability to maintain even a single stadium to international standards. They preside over a crumbling empire, seemingly content to watch it fall.

Yet the GFA does not bear this burden alone. Successive governments, whether flying the flag of NDC or NPP, have shown a startling lack of commitment to sports infrastructure. Promises made during election campaigns evaporate like morning dew under the harsh sun of reality. Stadiums decay, training facilities languish, and the dreams of young footballers wither on untended pitches.

The Sport Minister's repeated failures are not just disappointing; they are a gross dereliction of duty. Each significant juncture that required strong leadership and decisive action has instead been met with ineptitude and a baffling lack of foresight. It’s as if the Minister is content to let Ghana's sporting legacy wither under his watch, demonstrating a troubling disconnect from the role's responsibilities and the country's needs. This continuous underperformance erodes trust and dims the hope of sports enthusiasts and athletes alike, who look to their leaders for support and advocacy. It’s time for the Minister to either step up and enact the necessary changes or step aside for someone who can truly champion the cause of sports in Ghana. The ongoing negligence must end, and it must end with bold actions that restore dignity and vitality to Ghana's sports administration.

But what of the players themselves? These millionaire athletes, who don the national colours with such pride on the pitch, where are they when the cameras stop rolling? The absence of charity work, the lack of visible commitment to their communities, speaks volumes. Have they forgotten the soil from which they sprouted? Do they not see the adoring faces of children who dream of following in their footsteps?

We must probe deeper. Why does the fire of patriotism seem to flicker so weakly in the hearts of our national team? Is it a reflection of a broader malaise in society, where individual gain trumps collective progress? Or have we failed them, creating a system that values short-term glory over long-term development?

The rot runs deep, and the questions multiply. How can a nation so rich in footballing talent find itself so poor in footballing infrastructure? Why do we excel at exporting players to European leagues but fail so miserably at cultivating a thriving domestic game? Is our football culture cannibalising itself, consuming its young in a frenzied quest for foreign currency and fleeting fame?

And what of the fans, the lifeblood of the game? How long will they continue to pour their hearts and souls into a team that seems increasingly disconnected from their reality? The Black Stars once united a nation, transcending tribal and political divides. Now, do they serve only to highlight our divisions, our failures, our collective shame?

As we contemplate the possibility of the Black Stars becoming nomads, playing "home" games on foreign soil, we must ask: is this the death knell of Ghanaian football, or could it be the spark that ignites a renaissance? Will this humiliation be the rock bottom from which we push off towards redemption, or merely another step in a seemingly endless descent?

Vice President Mahamudu Bawumia has a big chance to show he’s ready to lead Ghana by fixing the problems with the country’s sports. Captain Thomas Partey, along with other players, has directly voiced concerns, underscoring the urgent need for action. So far, Bawumia hasn’t done enough to solve these issues, and that’s really disappointing. If he wants to be President and prove he’s a good leader, he needs to take strong action now to make things better in sports. People are watching closely, and they want to see real changes. It’s important for him to step up, listen to these voices like Partey’s, and show he can handle big problems and make improvements.

The answers remain elusive, shrouded in the mists of uncertainty and recrimination. But the questions, ah, the questions burn bright, demanding attention, begging for introspection. They are the mirror held up to a nation's soul, reflecting back a truth we may not wish to see, but one we must confront if there is to be any hope of resurrection for the beautiful game in the land of the Black Stars.

In the end, we are left with a paradox: a football-mad nation without a home pitch, a team without roots, a dream without dreamers. The ball is in our court, but do we have the will, the vision, the sheer bloody-mindedness to pick it up and start the long, arduous journey back to greatness?

Only time will tell. But as the floodlights dim on empty stadiums across Ghana, one thing is clear: the clock is ticking, and the beautiful game waits for no one. As we face the prospect of playing our "home" game against Sudan on foreign soil, we must ask ourselves: is this the price of our neglect, or the cost of our complacency? The beautiful game bleeds, and with it, so does Ghana.