In the often quiet corridors of Ghana’s High Court, a procedural dispute has burst into the open with a pointed rebuke from the law firm representing the plaintiff in a defamation case against Samuel Adu Gyamfi. Dehyena Chambers, which is leading the action, says it has seen false claims circulating that the plaintiff is avoiding service of the writ. Those claims, the firm insists, are completely backwards. In legal terms, “service” is the formal delivery of a court document to a person being sued. It is one of the most basic fairness requirements in any legal system: you cannot have judgment entered against someone who was never told they were being sued. It is also one of the most easily misunderstood practices, because it sounds like a technicality but often becomes the focus of a fight between the parties. The statement from Dehyena Chambers seeks to clear the air by laying out exactly what happened, when it happened, and why the defendant has been validly served. More than that, it challenges a narrative that seems designed to create sympathy for the defendant and cast the plaintiff in a false light. The truth, according to the statement, is that the plaintiff has done everything correctly, and it is the defendant who has tried to move the goalposts after the ball was already in play.
The facts, as set out by Dehyena Chambers, form a clear timeline. The writ in the defamation suit was filed on August 24, 2026. On August 26, 2026, Ayine & Partners, the law firm representing Mr Gyamfi, formally informed the Registrar of the High Court that they had Mr Gyamfi’s “express instructions and authority” to accept service on his behalf. This is a significant step. In civil litigation, lawyers often accept service for their clients to make the process efficient and avoid the need for a court official to chase a defendant in person. When a lawyer gives a written undertaking to accept service, the court is entitled to rely on that undertaking. And that is precisely what happened here. Relying on the written assurance from Ayine & Partners, the bailiff — the court officer responsible for delivering legal documents — duly served the writ on the lawyers. From that moment, in the eyes of the law, the defendant was served. The plaintiff had no further role to play in ensuring delivery. The plaintiff’s job was to file the case and have the court issue the writ; it was then up to the court’s officials and the defendant’s own lawyers to complete the process. That process was completed when the writ landed in the hands of lawyers who had promised in writing that they were authorised to accept it.
Then came the reversal. On August 27, the day after accepting service, the lawyers returned the writ to the court, claiming that their client had changed his mind. This is where the story takes a turn that many ordinary people will find familiar. A person cannot authorise a lawyer to accept a legal document, have the document delivered, and then expect the delivery to be undone simply because he has second thoughts. The authority to accept service existed at the moment the writ was delivered. What happened later — a change of heart, a new instruction, a decision to hand the document back — does not erase the fact that service was validly completed. It is a bit like sending a registered letter to someone who has given you their address, watching them receive it, and then hearing them say they never lived there. The real-world evidence contradicts the claim. And in this case, the evidence becomes even more striking when the bailiff tried to serve Mr Gyamfi personally after the lawyers returned the writ. According to Dehyena Chambers, when the bailiff went to Mr Gyamfi’s office on that Thursday, security personnel prevented the court officer from approaching him and directed the bailiff to Mr Gyamfi’s residence instead. That is an all-too-common scene in litigation: a person who does not want to be served can hide behind security guards, locked gates, or a series of excuses. But the law does not require a plaintiff or a court official to chase a defendant through an endless obstacle course. The attempt at personal service was made, and it was obstructed. That obstruction says far more about the defendant’s attitude than it does about any alleged avoidance by the plaintiff.
For anyone not immersed in legal jargon, the key principle is simple. Under Order 7, rule 12(2) of the High Court (Civil Procedure) Rules, a writ is duly served once it is delivered to a lawyer who has undertaken in writing to accept service on behalf of a client. This rule is not a loophole. It is a sensible mechanism designed to prevent gamesmanship and to give both parties certainty. When a lawyer writes to the court and says, “I have my client’s authority to accept service,” the court should be able to take that at face value. The client cannot later claim that the lawyer acted without permission or that the permission was withdrawn before service. If that were allowed, the legal process would grind to a halt. Every defendant could avoid court simply by changing instruction patterns or by saying their lawyer did not really mean it. That is why the written undertaking matters: it creates an objective record. In the present case, that record exists. The letter from Ayine & Partners is part of the court file. The bailiff’s official note of service is part of the court file. Both confirm that Mr Gyamfi has been validly served. The lawyers who attempted to return the writ may have had instructions from their client, but those instructions cannot retroactively invalidate something that has already happened. The law is not a revolving door. Once a party has been served, he is served. And once he is served, he is expected to respond to the claim against him.
Beyond the technical rules, this episode carries a distinctly human dimension. Defamation cases are rarely just about money. They are about reputation, dignity, and the way a person is seen in the community. When someone is accused of defamation, there is often a powerful temptation to shift the focus away from the words that were published and onto the process of the lawsuit itself. A defendant might try to portray himself as a victim of harassment or as someone being dragged into court by a plaintiff who is afraid to face the evidence. The claim that the plaintiff is avoiding service fits neatly into that narrative. It makes the plaintiff look evasive, even cowardly, when the real story is much simpler: the plaintiff filed a case, the court issued a writ, and the defendant’s own lawyers accepted it. The attempt to spin that into a story about plaintiff avoiding service is not just wrong; it is an injustice to the plaintiff and a distraction from the merits of the case. The underlying defamation claim, whatever it may be, still has to be heard. But it will not be heard fairly if one side is allowed to rewrite the facts of procedural history to suit a preferred narrative. That is why Dehyena Chambers has urged those spreading the contrary narrative to desist. The firm is not asking the public to choose sides based on emotion. It is pointing to documents. The relevant correspondence speaks, and so does the bailiff’s official record. Those documents should be enough to settle the question of service once and for all.
Ultimately, this is a story about the difference between lawful process and self-serving narrative. The legal system has rules, and those rules exist for a reason. They protect everyone, not just the party with the better public relations campaign. In this case, the rules have been followed. The plaintiff filed the suit on time, the writ was issued, the defendant’s lawyers gave a written undertaking to accept service, and the writ was served on them in reliance on that undertaking. Mr Gyamfi did not get a free pass simply because he thought better of his earlier instruction. The court will proceed on the basis that he has been notified of the case and must answer it. If he wishes to contest the claim, he has the right to do so. He can file a defence, raise objections, and have his day in court. But he cannot do so by pretending that he was never served. The statement from Dehyena Chambers is firm but measured. It does not call for anything dramatic. It simply says: stop spreading the false story. The record is clear. The defendant has been served. The suit will go forward. That is how a rule-of-law system should work. Process is not a game, and service is not a favour. It is a duty owed to the court and to the person on the other side of the case. In the coming weeks, the focus should return to the substance of the defamation claim, not to baseless procedural rumours. The court will decide the matter. But before it can decide anything, it must know that both parties are before it. That has been accomplished. The rest belongs in the courtroom.