Love in Tamale

As we celebrated the New Year, we did it with all our hearts knowing that we would in no time be celebrating the special month of love. I don't know, but I have a feeling salaried workers also looked forward to this month because it is, obviously, the shortest month of the year. They couldn't wait to empty the contents of their bank accounts after all the loan deductions were made leaving them with a ridiculous take-home pay which was not going to see the doormats of their homes because debtors would have to be settled before they even thought of going to Quality First or Zuks Multi Mart to do shopping.

For these workers, the nature of their jobs and how much money they made monthly determined what they carried to the counter. Your pocket and your social standing would determine if you would leave the supermarket with Horlicks, Ovaltine, Bournvita, Milo, Richoco, Chocolim or just plain cocoa powder. If you lived in the Ghana of the 90s you would know that these brand names spoke volumes about what rung on the social ladder you were placed. As far as these cocoa beverages and any product was concerned, the more expensive; the better.

It is surprising that the adults, who had incomes no matter how meagre, were not as invested in the Valentine's Day craze as the adolescents. What the adolescents lacked in income, they made up in passion. There was none as passionate as a besotted teenager. They would save up and buy love cards and fake perfumed roses that developed a polka-dotted pattern with age. The regular gnasher would seize this opportunity to make a move on the girl he had been obsessed with all year. The most popular kids were the ones whose names were mentioned several times at the assembly grounds when letters were delivered: the bigger the envelope the more respect they earned.

After school, we would go through town to have a feel of what the young adults were up to. They never disappointed with their appearance; they would come out clad in so much red that you would think the Akan Chief of Tamale had passed away. Vendors suddenly sprung up everywhere taking advantage of the occasion to make a little more money. People who usually sold sunglasses would add fake roses to their wares, provisions stores would add huge hampers to their stock, catering to the privileged few. These vendors were strategically positioned in front of what was then Fatawu Bicycles. We would check out their wares and only wish we were old enough to enjoy this sweet love that the giggling young adults were blatantly rubbing in our faces. When we got tired of the red affair we would walk home thinking of what excuse to give to our parents for coming home late.

We would stay up late flipping through Radio Savannah, Fiila fm and Diamond fm to see which station had dedicated a late night show to this special day. They never disappointed. They played the best hit songs from Celine Dion, Whitney Houston, Toni Braxton. We would listen hoping that when the phone lines were activated for dedications and song requests, a secret admirer would call in to dedicate a song and make the love fantasy come true. The chance of this happening was usually slim. We would eventually drift off to sleep…

-WFM