Ghana is known as a transit point in global human smuggling and trafficking networks. ENACT spoke to four smugglers from Ghana’s Transporters gang – Tetteh, Kwesi, Addo and Zainab (pseudonyms) – who provided insights into how they recruit and transport human smuggling victims and exploit them along the way.
Smugglers use referrals or coded social media advertisements to target youth desperate for work and lure other potential migrants. Initial meetings are discreet, where routes and costs are negotiated.
‘Smuggling fees to Europe [range] from US$2 000 to US$10 000,’ says Tetteh, a 26-year-old University of Ghana history graduate. Prices are often influenced by the perceived trustworthiness of the smuggling gang and the reliability of their vehicles. Migrants will pay a premium for gangs with a proven track record of successfully transporting migrants to Europe.
The smugglers say migrants choose freely – but this choice is eroded as migrants become wholly dependent on the transporters during their onward passage. The smugglers, in turn, treat human lives as tradeable commodities, with profits feeding a sprawling network of recruiters, transporters and corrupt officials.
Tetteh refers to the journey from Ghana through the Sahara Desert as the ‘route of death’, where risks of banditry, extortion and abandonment are ever-present.
Tetteh says the migrants, primarily from Ghana and neighbouring Togo, Côte d’Ivoire and Burkina Faso, converge in the Volta Region. From there, they are transported by the gang to Bawku, a border town in Ghana’s Upper East Region. Before setting off, migrants are briefed on the challenges ahead, including the numerous police and military checkpoints where bribes are mandatory.
But the most hazardous checkpoints are those fabricated by the smugglers. Tetteh explains how his gang, dressed in military fatigues, extorts money from migrants to create an atmosphere of fear and compliance.
‘We make the threats terrifying – prison, arrest, you name it,’ he says. Some women who cannot pay are sexually exploited. While Tetteh condemns such acts, he rationalises his involvement in the smuggling business as a response to systemic unemployment. ‘If we don’t do it, another gang will.’
In Bawku, migrants are lodged in overcrowded houses before being transported across the border to Diapaga in Burkina Faso – a seven-hour drive over 342 km of desert roads. Diapaga serves as a waypoint where migrants pay local gangs for passage to Agadez in Niger, a gruelling 1200 kms away. Crammed into open trucks, the migrants endure extreme heat, freezing nights, dehydration and violence. ‘The desert claims the weak without mercy,’ says Kwesi.
Agadez is a hub for migrant smuggling, marking the start of the most treacherous leg of the journey. Kwesi explains that from Agadez, migrants are driven a further 640 km through harsh desert terrain to Dirkou in Niger, a desolate outpost of armed bandits. ‘They will skin you dry. You have to pay up for whatever they demand, or you can be abandoned in the unforgiving desert and, if you are a young woman, sexually assaulted.’
Tetteh agrees that ‘[it’s not] uncommon for the bus to be ambushed and everything taken from the migrants. Some drivers are part of the scam. From nowhere, fierce balaclava-hooded armed men will emerge from the sands, threatening to kill everyone. The vehicle and the driver will be taken, but they are probably part of the scam.’
The migrants will be left ‘at the mercy of the searing sun and the bone-chilling nights’. They need to get to Madama 330 km away, a critical transit point for migrants heading to Libya. Conditions are dire, with migrants facing further exploitation, extortion and violence from smugglers and corrupt officials. ‘The migrants will have to pay again for that journey. [Those] who have exhausted their money or whose money has been scammed away or stolen … will probably die in the desert,’ concludes Tetteh. The new target, Sabhā, is still hundreds of kilometres away.
Addo, a former fisherman turned smuggler, says Sabhā ‘is the smugglers’ capital’ and the first major Libyan town on the route. Many migrants are confined to ‘connection houses’ – effectively prisons where they may be tortured or abused to extort additional money from their families.
These payments are typically sent through informal money or hawala transfers, ensuring the funds reach the smugglers or intermediaries quickly and discreetly. Migrants also risk being sold as slaves, especially if they run out of money. The promise of continuing the journey northward depends on these payments, trapping many migrants in cycles of exploitation, including sexual exploitation.
Zainab was once confined to a connection house in Sabhā, where she endured months of physical and sexual abuse. She had abandoned her studies in political science to pursue the promise of a better life in Italy – after being deceived by a friend, Zainab found herself trapped in Libya’s smuggling underworld.
‘Every night, I was forced to work as a prostitute,’ she says. She saved US$1 000 over seven months, and eventually escaped and returned to Ghana.
In a wry contradiction, Zainab is now a central figure in the Transporters smuggling operation, using her experiences to brief women on the journey’s dangers. Known among her peers as ‘the Counsellor’, she offers advice on how to stay safe, what to do, and what to avoid along the route. By advising on migrants’ safety, Zainab improves the Transporters’ reputation, attracting more clients.
‘I help people achieve their dreams,’ she says – a statement that reflects both the desperation of migrants and the ambiguities of smugglers. By positioning themselves as both facilitators and protectors, the Transporters gain the trust of vulnerable migrants, especially women with children, who see them as a safer option in an otherwise ruthless smuggling landscape.
This dual role is precisely what makes their operation so effective, and underscores the multifaceted, and often contradictory, nature of human smuggling networks.
‘People come to us because they have no choice,’ says Addo, citing youth unemployment and stagnant economic opportunities. Success stories, amplified by social media, inspire families to pool resources, hoping remittances will secure their future. ‘A father once begged me to take his son, saying, “If he doesn’t leave, we will starve.”’
While migrant smuggling is the main focus, Addo acknowledges that all human smuggling gangs also smuggle drugs and arms, particularly in the coastal regions of Tema, Sekondi, Elmina, Takoradi and Cape Coast. Corruption underpins these operations, with bribes to officials facilitating forged documents, bypassing inspections and ensuring unhindered movement across borders and ports.
The smugglers interviewed by ENACT reveal that many, like Tetteh and Addo, entered the trade out of economic necessity. Others, like Zainab, were drawn in by personal circumstances. Smugglers often rationalise their involvement in criminal activities. ‘We provide a service for those whose governments have failed them. Why would I be doing this if I had a proper job?’ Tetteh asks. ‘The opportunities for young people just aren’t there.’
Zainab agrees, saying: ‘If only the government could provide jobs for young people, youth gangs and criminality would reduce. I plan to finish school. I have a bit of money now, and my daughter is eight years old. This is not sustainable.’
With a new government in place in Ghana, Tetteh remains cautiously hopeful. ‘The new government promised change for young people, so we wait and see what happens. But whatever happens, I don’t think I’ll be doing this in 2025. I have a bit of money now. I can move on.’
Irregular migration is a phenomenon fuelled by systemic inequalities, a lack of local opportunities and limited legal migration pathways. Addressing this issue requires more than a criminal justice approach.
Ghana has clear legislative, policy and operational frameworks to address irregular migration – these focus on prevention, protection, prosecution and partnerships and align with regional and international conventions. Despite this, Ghana’s government faces a challenging task in turning the tide of human smuggling and disrupting the organised criminal groups that benefit from the vulnerability of smuggled migrants.
A multi-pronged approach is needed – one that tracks social media that promotes smuggling, and also uses social media to provide counter-narratives and encourage reporting to authorities. Increased advocacy by Ghanaian International Organization for Migration Goodwill Ambassadors Kofi Kinaata and Ama K Abarese is needed to highlight the risks of irregular migration.
Without these measures, it is unlikely that the accounts from people like Tetteh, Zainab and others will decrease as people continue to seek prospects of a better life elsewhere.
Feyi Ogunade, ENACT Regional Organised Crime Observatory Coordinator, West Africa
Image: Panagiotis Papadimitriou/ UNODC
