Susu is one of Ghana’s proudest traditions and for generations, market traders and everyday workers have used it to build capital without falling into the hands of loan sharks.
But a banker and financial literacy coach Patrick Baah Abankwah warns that many organisers are quietly crossing the line from traditional thrift into an illegal deposit scheme.
This gradual shift from a harmless venture into an illegal and scam scheme, Patrick Baah Abankwa says happens without members even noticing it until its too late.
What true Susu looks like
According to Patrick Baah Abankwah, genuine Susu has three unbreakable rules. Everyone in the group knows each other. You get back exactly what you put in. And there is zero interest and no hidden investment tricks.
When any of these rules breaks, he says, the group stops being Susu, or whatever name it carries. Here are the three red flags the financial literacy coach wants the public to watch out;
Red Flag #1: Strangers invited from social media
Traditional Susu works because of social accountability. You pay on time because your colleagues or market neighbours know you and will hold you responsible.
This changes the moment an admin creates a group and announces: “Join our online Susu! Drop your MoMo number; anyone can join from Facebook or Twitter!”
Under Ghana’s banking laws (Act 930), collecting deposits from the general public without a Bank of Ghana or GCSCA licence is running an illegal financial operation. A WhatsApp group full of strangers, he says, is not a Susu. It is an unlicensed deposit-taking business.
Red Flag #2: Promises of “extra returns” or “bonuses”
True Susu does not produce yield out of thin air. It is simply your own money held in turn.
So when an admin says, “Contribute GH₵500 every week for two months and get GH₵6,500 at payout,” Patrick Baah Abankwah says stop right there. Do the maths and that is GH₵4,000 paid in, GH₵6,500 promised back.
He calls on patrons to ask the obvious question: where is the extra GH₵2,500 coming from?
Unless a licensed fund manager or a real commercial business is generating that return, the bonus is being paid from the deposits of newer members who joined after you. This, he says, is a classic Ponzi scheme wearing Susu as camouflage. It works only while fresh members keep joining, and it collapses when they stop.
Red Flag #3: Admin fees and “rerouted” pots
In an authentic Susu, rotating turns are clearly mapped out from Day 1. Everyone knows who collects and when.
Trouble starts when the admin begins changing dates, or postpones Member A’s payout because “someone hasn’t paid yet.” Another warning sign is a demand for special administrative handling fees to “unlock” your turn.
Patrick Abankwah says these are signs the system is already collapsing. Money meant for one member is being used to patch holes elsewhere, and the schedule is bending because the cash is not there.
How to protect yourself
The red flags from the financial literacy coach indicates that patrons must join only groups where you personally know the members. Be suspicious of any payout bigger than what was contributed. Insist on a fixed, written rotation. And never pay extra fees to receive money that is already yours.
Susu has earned its place in Ghanaian life because it is built on trust, familiarity and fairness. Once strangers, bonuses and shifting payout dates enter the picture, he cautions, it is no longer the tradition many grew up trusting.
