Tema Trotro

After a hot sweaty walk in the baking December sun, I finally arrive at the Tema-Ashaiman bus-stop in front of the famous Accra Mall where people from all walks of life troop to every day, many of whom do not leave there without taking photos of themselves in front of every "foreign" looking shop which of course gives them the feeling they're in small "abroad".

There are taxis sprawled across the

bus-stop. Even though there's a sign which says "Maximum Waiting Time 1 minute", the Tema and Ashaiman bound troskies 'load' empty vehicles which takes up to 15 minutes. I find my way to the back seat of the white remodeled 207 bus and take my favourite place at the left corner of the vehicle and make myself comfortable by a rusty window. I thank God because the seat is in good shape even though my long legs won't be getting any stretching room-thanks to the remodeling. I raise my head and lock eyes with a fine young man of cocoa brown complexion. Those are the darkest brown eyes I have ever seen. I usually hold my own in eye-duels like this one. Call me stubborn but I never want to look away for fear of missing the different expressions on the face of my contender.

In situations such as this one, the guy is surprised at first because it is always natural that the lady look away. The look of surprise curls with the lips into mild shock and then amazement. He is left with a look of epiphany that says "Ahh she won't budge." With my long-nosed, sunken-eyed trotro contender it's a little different. He is in the seat behind the front passenger seat by the door so that gives me an upper hand. I can stare without seeming obvious. When it comes to things like this, 'inconspicuous' is my middle name. Well, my fine gentleman also seems well grounded in these things. He gets off the stationary vehicle and pretends to adjust his seat. He leans comfortably against the bus with his arms folded, taking in the warm breeze he stares right back. I'm slightly amused because I know I have met my match. At this moment everything goes still, even the passengers seem to have stopped boarding the Tema trotro. I am discomfitted but I am salvaged by the sights and sounds right outside my window.

 At the other side of the road, unfolding before my eyes is one of the most dangerous pedestrian-driver games. A young smartly dressed lady trying to cross to the other side, walks leisurely and when she gets to the middle of the road, the driver of the on-coming vehicle steps hard on the accelerator charging at her with such unprecedented speed she is forced to run for her life. She eyes the driver gingerly from her side of the road and the driver with an amused larger-than-life grin, winks at her. She stomps away from the scene. All the while that this is happening I feel a pair of eyes boring into me. I bring myself back into the trosky only to meet a dark brown gaze again! He flashes me a lopsided smile revealing buck teeth and takes his seat right away. This beautiful unexpected smile unsettles me. Everything happens so fast my brain is not given the chance to connect to my lips to produce one of my famous smiles. I stare dumbfounded at the back of his head, I can tell he is smiling; the way you know someone is smiling from watching the back of their head. I shake myself out of this stupor and say to myself, "Well, I guess I really have met my match today." The middle-aged rotund lady who has been sitting beside me for God knows how long peers at me with a questioning look from her glasses. I start humming one of the popular songs from the radio I didn't even know I knew the words to just so she will not wonder why I'm talking to myself.

-WFM

Crazy day in the capital (Accra)

It was one of those hot days and Accra was being its usual busy self bustling with activity and of course the usual sweaty bodies swathed with odours that would make even the huge rubbish-filled, choked drains screw up their noses in disgust. The city just like the country itself was as fascinating as the rainbow; each suburb more different and unique than the other.

Spanner junction is one of the very interesting traffic stops in the capital. One of the reasons is because it is the “gateway” to the Accra Mall where every person who likes to think they know “what’s up” like to be seen. At that traffic stop just like any other, hawkers take advantage of the red light to sell their wares to passengers and drivers. You will hear the usual “Yes, pure waita.” And there’s always that one driver of a private vehicle who will have a face-off with that guy who walks up to the car with his accoutrements and starts to wash it without as much as a greeting. This sometimes ends in the windscreen washer apologizing and the driver driving off in anger after having “sorted out” the windscreen guy.

Crossing from one side of the road to the other seems like such a herculean task. Every pedestrian seems to either be in some sort of a hurry or be running late for some appointment. Waiting for the traffic light to indicate to them when it’s safe to cross seems like forever so they would rather snake through the traffic hoping against hope that they do not get hit by a motor cyclist who has such wanton disregard for traffic regulations.

Every once in a while, something fascinating happens with our public transport system; the trotro service, passengers sit in trotros sometimes bracing themselves for any eventuality like a flat tyre or the vehicle breaking down at any point in their journey but what happens is something that is  totally unexpected. On this fateful day, two spectacles unfold on both sides of the Spanner junction. For passengers on the side of the road leading to Accra is a trotro whose door will not open. The mate with all the experience he has gathered on trotros over the years uses all the tricks he knows but to no avail. The driver gets off and also starts to do his magic, meanwhile other drivers and their mates shout out suggestions to the driver as if it is something they deal with everyday. The passengers who are beginning to get agitated start looking for ways to get off the vehicle. One smartly dressed guy squeezes himself through the tiny space between the driver’s seat and the front passenger seat, opens the passenger door and hops off, the others follow his lead. As they get off, some begin to find the situation humorous and start to laugh, the on-lookers join in. Others who feel their time has been wasted saunter off with scowls on their faces.

At the other side of the road, a trotro stops abruptly and passengers start jumping off and running as far away from the vehicle as they can. This draws some attention to the vehicle, the people who looked like they were running late for some appointment suddenly have all the time in the world to investigate what is going on. Turns out the vehicle has over heated which is the reason for the smoke being emitted from the engine area. The cute little Sahara children who are sent by their parents to beg for money are also captivated by the scene; some of the pedestrians who notice this take advantage of the situation to slip away from the scene to avoid being hassled by these children for money that has already been budgeted for.

-WFM