In a High Court courtroom where the fight is as much about reputation as it is about paper trails, Kevin Okyere, founder of Springfield, used cross-examination to make a set of admissions that sharpen rather than settle Ghana’s most politically charged upstream dispute.
He accepted, on the record, that he was detained in Dubai; acknowledged that a Springfield-linked entity drew down US$50 million under a facility whose headline figure was US$100 million; and conceded that the borrower was in default while repeatedly insisting that the matter is a commercial transaction, not fraud, and that he did not personally guarantee the debt.
The testimony emerged in proceedings connected to Okyere’s effort to sanction publications he says breached an injunction and “tarnished” his name. In earlier court filings, he argues the High Court had restrained the respondent from further publications intended to undermine his reputation pending the final determination of the suit, yet publications continued including headlines referencing a “US$94 million fraud” narrative and an alleged arrest warrant.
But in the witness box, the dispute moved from rhetoric to specifics: how much money moved, what was signed, what was pledged, who investigated what and what Kevin Okyere now wants the court to treat as contempt.
Okyere’s most direct line came early. Asked whether he had taken a loan from Petraco, he said: “I Kevin Okyere have not taken a loan personally.”
He confirmed instead that “the 2nd plaintiff has taken a loan from this company,” and when pressed on his relationship to that entity, answered “Yes” to being both a director and a shareholder.
That distinction personal versus corporate liability ran through the rest of his testimony. When counsel confronted him with a claim that he personally guaranteed US$50 million, Okyere denied it emphatically: “No. I did not personally guarantee 50million dollars from Petraco Oil Company.”
He then set out the structure as he says it occurred: a commercial arrangement in which US$50 million was advanced to Springfield, with a 10% lien on Springfield shares as collateral. If that collateral proved insufficient in a default scenario, he said additional shares could be sold to top up the difference but he maintained that this was not a personal guarantee. “So, I never gave any personal guarantee, more so this is a pure commercial transaction,” he testified.
The most consequential admission in the cross-examination was the loan quantum.
Okyere acknowledged that the underlying facility agreement carried a US$100 million headline value, but insisted the actual drawdown was half: “However, although the facility agreement is for 100million dollars, Springfield only drew down 50million dollars. Therefore, the loan is 50million dollars and not 100million dollars.”
Pressed further on repayment, he did not offer a number, responding instead: “I will have to check with the finance team.”
In court terms, these exchanges are pivotal because they anchor the dispute in quantifiable obligations rather than social-media narratives — while leaving open the unresolved question that drives creditor enforcement fights: what remains outstanding, under what terms, and with what remedies.
A second pivotal moment came when counsel framed the dispute through its most inflammatory label: fraud. Okyere’s reply was categorical, and repeated.
First, he stated the principle: “Taking a loan is not fraud. Ghana Government take loans and companies take loans to work.”
Then, confronted on whether the borrower was in default, he answered: “Yes. However, it is a commercial transaction and no fraud has been committed.”
And when asked whether Petraco had accused him of fraud, Okyere pushed the allegation away from the creditor and onto the publications he is challenging: “No. I read from the Herald Newspaper and website which claimed that I have committed fraud.”
His core argument is that disputes of this nature belong in arbitration and court mechanisms not in headlines. “If there is default, there are mechanisms such as court and arbitration to resolve any dispute,” he said.
Perhaps the most politically sensitive passage of the cross-examination was Okyere’s account of the Ghanaian state’s handling of petitions around the dispute.
He told the court: “Yes, there was a petition, the CID and Attorney General investigated and gave a decision that it is a commercial matter and it should be addressed as such.”
Later, he restated it: “As I mentioned earlier, their petition has been fully investigated by the CID and the Attorney General and they stated that it is a commercial matter.”
This claim sits uneasily alongside other official signals in the public domain. EOCO has previously stated publicly that it is handling two investigations involving Springfield one based on a petition against the company, and another related to the Springfield–BOST matter. Any gap between “CID/AG treated it as commercial” and “EOCO has two active investigations” will remain a live question for observers, particularly because it goes to the heart of how Ghana classifies complex cross-border commercial disputes: as civil, criminal, or both.
On the Dubai episode a flashpoint in the public narrative Okyere gave an on-record confirmation that will matter for any future reporting.
When counsel suggested that his detention in Dubai was true, he replied: “Yes. However, publications the Herald made were all false.”
In other words, he does not deny detention; he disputes the framing and the claims attached to it.
This is precisely where the court record becomes a roadmap for the wider controversy: the facts Okyere appears willing to concede, and the conclusions he is determined to contest.
Okyere also sought to narrow what he has personally faced in foreign proceedings.
Asked if he had been in a UK court in 2024, 2025 or 2026, he answered: “No. I have not personally been in the UK court in 2024, 2025, 2026.”
But he conceded service of process: “Yes” to being served with a court summons emanating from a London court relating to Petraco.
That combination not attending a UK court, but being served is a typical feature of disputes migrating from commercial negotiation into cross-border enforcement pathways.
Throughout the exchange, Okyere returned to one theme: that he is defending his reputation against what he views as contemptuous reporting, not merely answering a creditor claim.
In his words, the publications are not simply inaccurate they are harmful while legal processes remain active. That is the logic behind his injunction and contempt strategy, as reflected in earlier filings which cite headlines about a “US$94 million fraud” narrative and alleged arrest warrants.
But the courtroom also revealed the risk of that approach: once a party asks a court to police the boundary between reporting and contempt, the underlying facts can become more visible and the admissions can create new angles for scrutiny.
The case will now turn on what the court considers to be contemptuous publication in the face of an injunction, and what weight it gives to the documentary foundations that both sides are contesting.
Also, whether EOCO provides updates on its publicly stated investigations, how Petraco frames enforcement steps, and whether Okyere’s “commercial-not-criminal” posture survives the next procedural stage not in headlines, but in filings.
