RNAQ Divorce: A Closer Look at the Evidence and Outcome- Key Details Often Missing from the Debate

There is a version of this story spreading fast. A wealthy man, a devoted wife, sixteen years of marriage, and a court that handed her pocket change while he keeps the empire. It is a compelling story. It is also an incomplete one.

I followed the case closely. And the more carefully you look at the actual record instead of the headlines, or the TikTok commentary, the more the narrative falls apart.

This is the part almost nobody is talking about. Joana Quaye received a one-third share of the matrimonial home in Dansoman. This is a multi-million-cedi house that  even has a swimming pool, and her share alone represents a substantial settlement by any honest measure. She also received GHS300,000 and two Jaguar vehicles, one of which had already been transferred to her during the trial itself.

And then there is the matter of the children. RNAQ has been ordered to bear the full financial responsibility for all three; school fees, healthcare, educational expenses, monthly maintenance. Every bill. She carries none of that burden.

In practical terms, she walks away with significant assets and zero financial obligation toward the children’s upbringing eventhough they will both share the burden of their upbringing. The picture being painted of a woman left in hardship simply does not match the court record.

Something else that got buried in all the noise. She filed for this divorce. Not him. And from day one, there was never any attempt at reconciliation. No door left open, no effort made. The goal was always to end the marriage, and to end it in a very specific way.

The court saw that clearly. And it ruled accordingly. Justice Kofi Dorgu called her demand “ridiculous and without any basis.” That is strong language for a High Court judge, and it does not come without reason.

During the trial, the petitioner struggled to clearly identify the properties she was laying claim to. Among the assets she sought was a property that had been publicly gifted to the respondent’s mother,with evidence presented in court.

Claiming someone’s mother’s home as a marital asset is not an injustice waiting to be corrected. It is overreach. The GH₵50 million was not a carefully calculated figure. It was an opening position, one the court found entirely unsupported by evidence.

Not everyone reading this story has sided with the outrage. A quieter but equally vocal section of Ghanaians has pushed back, and their reasoning deserves to be heard.

Many feel that some women enter marriages, and more importantly, exit them, with financial extraction as the primary goal. The comments under the viral posts tell a different story from the one dominating the headlines. “Marriage is not an investment,” the judge said.

Plenty of Ghanaians agree with him. They see a woman who never worked to support her husband and was provided for throughout the marriage, who sought to claim her former husband’s mother’s property, and who now wants shares in  a business that started before the marriage as well as companies she cannot demonstrate she built, and they are not sympathetic.

This is a real part of the public conversation that is being deliberately drowned out by the louder narrative.

Even before the court delivered its verdict, there was already an attempt by some persons on radio to demonize the husband and intimidate the court. Since January 20, there has been a sustained public campaign to challenge the outcome, in the court of public opinion.

Media appearances. Coordinated commentary. Claims about assets and vast wealth that were never substantiated during the actual trial. The same people arguing the court was unfair are pointing to gold tablet giveaways and luxury visible online, public philanthropic gestures that were never before the court and cannot legally form the basis of a settlement.

A judge cannot distribute assets based on viral content. What was before the court was evidence. And on the evidence, the court made a reasoned decision.

It is also worth noting that before the ruling was delivered, the original judge was challenged by the petitioner and replaced. Before the newly assigned judge could even deliver judgment, public corruption allegations against that judge appeared. At what point does relentless institutional pressure become a pattern worth questioning?

Godfred Yeboah Dame is a formidable legal mind and Joana Quaye deserves her hearing before the Court of Appeal. That process should be respected.

But attempting to win in public what was not won in court, using media pressure, public sympathy, and coordinated outrage to influence an appellate outcome, is a different matter.

The High Court examined the evidence, awarded meaningful assets, protected the children, and declined to reward claims that were not proven. That is not injustice. That is a court doing its job.