7 Tourist Scams in Accra

You've been corresponding online with someone for several weeks or months before your trip — maybe they found you through a diaspora group, maybe through social media after you mentioned visiting Ghana. They're warm, knowledgeable, and have been incredibly helpful with your trip planning. When you arrive in Accra, they invite you to meet. In person, they're charming. But now there's a business opportunity, or an emergency involving a relative's hospital bill, and they just need a small amount to unlock a much larger sum... Ghana is globally associated with what the FBI classifies as advance fee fraud — 'sakawa' in local slang — which has evolved far beyond email princes and now involves sophisticated relationship-building, sometimes over months, before the in-person meeting in Accra activates the scam. Multiple traveller forums document versions where diaspora community ties or shared interests create the initial trust vector. This is one of the few tourist scams where the danger builds before you've boarded the plane. Anyone who contacts you online before your Accra trip and who is unusually helpful and interested in your plans warrants scrutiny. The in-person 'business opportunity' that emerges on arrival is the payoff for weeks of investment. The Ghanaian government and tourism board actively work against this reputation, and most Accra residents are genuinely hospitable — but the advance fee fraud infrastructure is real and targets tourists specifically.

You land at Kotoka International exhausted from the overnight flight and just want to get to your hotel in Osu. The taxi queue outside arrivals looks official enough. The driver quotes $50 for what your research said should be a $10-15 ride. When you push back, he says fuel prices have gone up, there's construction, the road is bad. You're tired, your phone battery is low, and the line of people behind you is moving. You pay the $50. Kotoka airport's unofficial taxi situation is a common first-Accra experience for tourists. The drivers at the kerb are not the officially licensed airport transfer operators and they quote prices anywhere from three to ten times the market rate. The same dynamic plays out at Osu's tourist restaurant strip and Labadi Beach on weekends. Uber and Bolt both operate in Accra and provide enormous protection against overcharging — the fare is fixed before the trip begins, the driver is rated, and the route is tracked. Download both apps before your flight lands. The official airport transfer service (registered inside the terminal building) is also reliable. If you must negotiate with a street taxi, know that the journey from the airport to Osu should cost roughly GHS 80-150 (about $5-10) at current rates — and start your negotiation from there.

You planned a meaningful trip — two weeks volunteering at an orphanage or school in a village outside Accra. You paid the $800 programme fee to an organisation you found online months ago. The website had professional photos, testimonials, and a registered charity number that you didn't independently verify. When you arrive at the Accra coordinator's office, it's a room in someone's home. The 'orphanage' is a building with children who are brought in specifically when volunteers arrive — some of them have parents. The school is understaffed and your 'role' is photographing yourself with children for the programme's Instagram. Voluntourism fraud targeting Western visitors is a documented problem across West Africa. Ghana specifically has seen organisations that profit from volunteer fees while providing minimal community benefit. The children's rights organisation ReThink Orphanages has documented how some Ghanaian 'orphanages' specifically recruit children from poor families to keep foreign volunteers and their fees flowing — a model that harms children. Legitimate volunteer organisations are transparent about their governance, financial accountability (ideally publishing annual reports), staff-to-volunteer ratios, and their child protection policies. Any legitimate orphanage or school should comply with Ghana Education Service or Social Welfare guidelines and will welcome questions about how programme fees are allocated.

The man at the hotel bar introduces himself as a jewellery exporter who ships handmade Ghanaian gold and Kente goods to Europe. He has too much inventory at the moment and needs to liquidate quickly before a trade fair. He can sell you an authentic piece — a gold bracelet, a set of Kente cloth — at a fraction of its value in Europe, and if you're interested, he knows dealers who would pay triple in London. The gold certification papers look official. The Kente cloth is beautiful. Ghana is the source of genuine Kente cloth and genuine gold, which makes the scam more believable — you're in the right place for this to be a real opportunity. The certification papers are forged, the gold has been heavily alloyed with base metals, and the Kente is often machine-made polyester printed to look hand-woven. You arrive home with something that appraises at a tenth of what you paid. Authentic hand-woven Kente cloth is purchased directly from weavers in Bonwire village near Kumasi, where you can watch the weaving process. In Accra, the Ghana Tourism Authority maintains a list of certified craft vendors. For gold, Ghana's Precious Minerals Marketing Company (PMMC) certifies authentic gold pieces — look for PMMC certification on anything you buy. Anyone approaching you in a hotel lobby or bar with a 'too good to miss' inventory situation is running a scam.

You've rented a car for a day trip to Kakum National Park or Cape Coast Castle. About forty kilometres outside Accra, there's a police checkpoint. An officer signals you to pull over. He examines your international driving permit and rental papers thoroughly, then informs you of a violation — your permit isn't stamped correctly, or the car's insurance document has a minor irregularity. He explains that the fine is payable on the spot. There is no receipt. The amount is negotiable. Corrupt checkpoint behaviour is a documented experience on Ghanaian roads, particularly for foreign tourists with rental cars who are perceived as wealthy and unfamiliar with local processes. The 'fine' is typically $10-30 USD equivalent and the officer frames it as doing you a favour by not issuing a formal citation. Paying validates the practice and encourages repetition at the next checkpoint. Legitimate Ghanaian police fines are issued on official forms with the officer's badge number and must be paid at a designated bank, not on the roadside. If stopped legitimately, you have the right to request the officer's badge number and the specific law violated. Offering to pay at the police station resolves most corrupt checkpoint encounters. The Ghana Police Service anti-corruption line is 18555.

Labadi Beach on a weekend afternoon is genuinely vibrant — live music, food vendors, local families, and tourists all mingling. The moment you settle on the sand, the photography hustle starts. A man asks to take your photo with his camera (and then demands payment), or offers to take your photo with your own phone (and then demands payment for the service). Meanwhile, a woman sits beside you and begins braiding a friendship bracelet onto your wrist without asking — by the time you've engaged with the photographer situation, the bracelet is half-done and refusing it now means removing it, which is somehow your fault. Both hustles are designed around the social awkwardness of extracting yourself once the service has begun. The bracelet creator in particular is skilled at deploying guilt — pointing out the work she's already done, the materials she's used, the children she's feeding. The photographer insists you agreed by smiling. Neither is dangerous, but both can escalate into persistent arguments or mild intimidation if you don't pay. The preemptive 'no thank you' delivered before contact is made is the most effective tool. At Labadi, there's an entry fee at the gate — pay it, which gives you some moral authority — and immediately find a spot and establish your space clearly. Engaging with any part of the hustle, even to say 'maybe later,' signals that you're a viable target and the vendors will return.

You receive a text: 'Congratulations, you have received a transfer of GHS 500 via MTN Mobile Money. Please confirm by sending your PIN to activate.' Or a call: 'I am from MTN and we are reversing a mistaken payment sent to your number — please confirm your account details to process the return.' Ghana's mobile money system is genuinely excellent and widely used, but it has spawned a sophisticated fraud ecosystem that targets both locals and tourists. Mobile money fraud in Ghana takes multiple forms: fake confirmation messages asking for PIN confirmation, 'wrong number' transfers where the fraudster claims to have accidentally sent you money and asks for it back plus a 'processing fee,' and impersonation of MoMo customer service agents. As a tourist using MoMo for market payments and accommodation, you are a specific target because your account may be freshly loaded with travel funds. MTN, AirtelTigo, and Vodafone (the main MoMo providers) never ask for your PIN via text or call under any circumstances. There is no process that requires you to send your PIN to anyone. If you believe a wrong transfer has been made to your account, contact the provider directly through their official number — never through a number provided by the person who contacted you. All legitimate reversals are handled bank-to-bank without customer PIN involvement.