In recent years, Ghana’s universities, polytechnics, and colleges of education have been celebrated as hubs of academic excellence and national development. Yet, beneath the fanfare of graduations and new campuses lies a quieter, darker reality.

The persistent sexual harassment of female students. Across lecture theatres, corridors, hostels, and even online platforms, young women are being targeted by lecturers, staff, security officers, and fellow students. Many cases never make it to the police, the relevant institutions or the public.

Research paints a disturbing picture.

A 2024 study on sexual harassment in selected Ghanaian tertiary institutions confirmed that sexual harassment is a real and significant issue, affecting teaching and non teaching staff as well as students. About 30% of staff acknowledged that harassment occurs, and while the reported incidence among students appears low around 4%. This may reflect underreporting rather than rarity of the problem.

Female students have reported verbal, physical, and online forms of harassment, including inappropriate comments, unwanted touching, sexually suggestive messages, and pressure for “favorable grades” in exchange for sexual attention. In one case study at a Ghanaian college of education, researchers found that students had experienced a range of coercive behaviors, from repeated unwanted advances to open threats of failing grades if they refused sexual propositions.

These patterns are not confined to one institution.

Media reports from universities in the Ashanti, Greater Accra, Northern and Central regions have repeatedly highlighted female students being “chased after” by lecturers and senior staff, reinforcing the idea that harassment is woven into the everyday culture of many campuses.

Several interlocking factors help explain why female students remain vulnerable on campus.

Lecturers, senior administrators, and other staff wield enormous power over students’ academic futures. They decide whether a student passes or fails, whether they are recommended for internships or scholarships, and whether they receive favorable references.

This power imbalance creates an environment where some men feel they can demand sexual favors without serious consequences. In some cases, students have spoken of being told that “without my help, you might not graduate,” implying that their academic success is tied to their sexual compliance. When such behavior is not publicly punished, it sends a message that harassment is tolerated.

Most Ghanaian tertiary institutions now have sexual harassment policies and reporting guidelines on paper, but implementation is inconsistent. Procedures are often known only to a few staff, and newly recruited lecturers and nonteaching staff frequently admit they do not understand how to handle complaints.

Even when policies exist, victims are sometimes discouraged from following them, or their complaints are “handled quietly” to avoid reputational damage to the school. This gap between policy and practice creates a culture where harassment can persist while the institution publicly claims to be safe.

In Ghanaian society, deeply entrenched gender norms still portray women who report harassment as “shaming the family,” “not knowing their place,” or even as having “invited” the behavior through their dress or “boldness.” These attitudes often follow women onto campus, where peers, classmates, and even some staff may question what the victim was doing or saying before the incident. Such victimblaming silences women and makes them feel that coming forward will only compound their pain.

Many tertiary institutions still have leadership structures that are overwhelmingly male, especially in senior academic and administrative roles. In such environments, women’s voices are easily marginalized, and concerns about harassment may be dismissed as “oversensitivity” or “personal issues.”

A culture of male camaraderie can also lead to informal protection of perpetrators, where colleagues shield each other from serious disciplinary action. This normalizes harassment and discourages victims from believing that institutions will truly side with them.

Even when female students know they are being harassed, many choose to stay silent. Researchers and media reports point to several recurring reasons.

In Ghana, sexual matters are often discussed in hushed tones, and victims of sexual harassment are frequently judged harshly. Many female students worry that if they report a lecturer or senior staff, they will be labeled as “problematic,” “promiscuous,” or “troublemakers.”

This fear is amplified on social media, where a single allegation can quickly spiral into gossip, memes, and online attacks. Under such conditions, staying quiet can feel safer than seeking justice.

Several studies show that victims often do not believe that complaining will change anything. Some students say they have seen others report harassment but receive little or no protection, or they hear stories of cases being “settled quietly” without sanctions.

This breeds deep skepticism. If previous cases did not lead to real punishment, why should theirs? In some institutions, reporting systems are complex, unclear, or require students to go through multiple offices, which can be intimidating and time consuming.

Because lecturers often control grades, course allocations, and recommendations, many students fear that reporting harassment will lead to failed marks, poor references, or being deliberately failed in courses.

In extreme cases, students have openly spoken of being told that “if you report me, your academic life here is over.” Such threats are rarely documented or proven, but they are enough to keep women silent. The risk of jeopardizing one’s future for a chance at justice is a heavy psychological burden.

Although student knowledge of what constitutes sexual harassment is generally high, some still struggle to identify certain behaviors as harassment.

Flirtatious comments, “joking” propositions, or repeated invitations to a lecturer’s office can be framed as “attention” rather than abuse. Without clear, repeated education and training, students may normalize these behaviors, especially if they see them occurring without consequences.

Beyond individual cases, the structural weaknesses in Ghana’s tertiary institutions continue to enable harassment. While many colleges and universities claim to have sexual harassment reporting systems, these are often not well institutionalized.

Reporting procedures are concentrated in the hands of a few people, and new staff may not know where to direct complaints. Some institutions do not clearly advertise their genderrights units, counseling services, or harassment desks, leaving students unaware of available support.

This lack of visibility and clarity further discourages reporting. Most institutions rely on internal committees, often made up of senior staff to investigate harassment claims.

This creates a conflict of interest problem, as the same people who may have benefited from a male dominated culture are expected to judge it. In the absence of independent, external oversight for example, a dedicated student rights body or a national tertiary education gender office victims have little faith that investigations will be fair.

Sexual harassment has serious psychological effects, including anxiety, depression sleep disturbances, and declining academic performance. Yet, counseling services in many Ghanaian tertiary institutions are understaffed, underresourced, or poorly advertised.

Students who do not have access to supportive mental health care may feel isolated, further pushing them toward silence. Without robust support systems, harassment becomes not only a violation of rights but also a long term mental health crisis.

Institutions often handle harassment cases “behind closed doors,” sometimes reassigning rather than sanctioning offenders, or moving them to other departments.

This lack of transparency means that the wider campus community does not know whether justice has been done, which can perpetuate a culture of impunity.

When victims see accused perpetrators continuing to walk the corridors without visible consequences, they feel betrayed and discouraged from reporting. The problem of harassment does not exist in isolation; it is intertwined with broader social and educational issues.

Studies show that sexual harassment can severely affect students’ concentration, motivation, and overall academic outcomes. Victims may skip classes, avoid certain lecturers’ offices, or even change programmes to escape harassers.

In some cases, the emotional burden becomes so great that students drop out or transfer schools, cutting short years of investment in education. When harassment is left unaddressed, it becomes a hidden driver of academic failure and inequality.

Women who survive harassment may still carry deep trauma into their careers, which can discourage them from pursuing leadership or academic roles. Over time, this reinforces the male dominated power structures that make harassment possible in the first place.

Leaving the cycle to continue, women are underrepresented in decisionmaking roles, and therefore less able to influence policies that would protect them and their peers.

Many Ghanaian universities actively brand themselves as “safe,” “inclusive,” and “modern,” yet students and staff experience the opposite.

This contradiction damages public trust. When occasional scandals surface, such as a lecturer being suspended or quietly removed the institution may issue a brief statement, but rarely does it engage in a deep, honest conversation about systemic genderbased violence.

Without such conversations, harassment remains a “scandal” rather than a structural problem that demands reform. Despite the challenges, there are clear steps that Ghana’s tertiary institutions, government, and civil society can take to protect female students.

Institutions must make reporting procedures clear, simple, and widely known. This includes visible posters, orientation sessions for new students and staff, and multiple reporting channels online portals, phone lines, and physical desks so that no one feels they have to walk alone into an intimidating office to tell their story. Cases should be handled by dedicated gender rights or student welfare units, not left to adhoc committees.

Wherever possible, investigations should involve independent bodies such as external gender experts or national education inspectors, to reduce bias. When sanctions are imposed, institutions should communicate general outcomes (without violating privacy) to reassure the campus community that action has been taken.

This transparency can begin to rebuild trust in the system. Regular training on what constitutes sexual harassment, power dynamics in the classroom, and bystander intervention should be mandatory for all staff and students.

This education must be gender sensitive and should challenge stereotypes that blame women for harassment. Peer education programmes can also empower students to speak out and support each other when they witness abuse.

Counseling centers must be better funded, staffed, and integrated into student life. Institutions should also train lecturers and hall wardens to recognize signs of distress and refer students to care.

When victims know they can access both emotional and practical support, they are more likely to break the culture of silence. The government and the Ghana tertiary education commission (GTEC) should set minimum standards for handling sexual harassment across all tertiary institutions, backed by clear guidelines and oversight.

Existing laws on genderbased violence and sexual offences should be actively enforced in campus cases, not treated as “internal matters.”

In lecture halls, laboratories, hostels, and online spaces, Ghana’s female students are being asked to study, create, and dream while carrying the weight of fear and silence.

Sexual harassment is not a “minor scandal” or a “personal issue”; it is a systemic failure that undermines the integrity of the nation’s education system.

Addressing it requires more than occasional statements and isolated cases of discipline. It requires a culture shift, one that centers the voices of women, holds power to account, and treats every complaint as a call for systemic change.

For Ghana’s tertiary institutions to truly become safe spaces for learning, the lecture halls must not only be places of knowledge but also of justice, dignity, and protection for every female student on campus.

By Addy Kennedy Edem