Streets in Ghana

I woke up @ 3:30am just to get to Accra before 10:00am so i can listen to a lecture on filmmaking. The guest speaker was Mr. Kwaw Ansah, writer of 'Love Brewed In The African Pot', a movie produced in 1980.

From my village (where i teach) to Accra is about a hundred and ten (110) km. I spent more than one and a half hour on a Metro Mass Transit/port bus. The journey is less than 15km. These buses are a nuisance to me. BECAUSE WHY? Passengers are packed like tins of sardines. The most disgusting aspect is that driver and conductors do not respect their 'clients' and vice versa. Coupled with this is the state of the road. Vehicles squeak, creak and scream. As early as 4:30am when one should have their quiet time in the presence of their Creator, they are abused and used, but today they were not ready to loose and lose anything; simply because they are misunderstood.

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From Anyinam to Accra is about 100km but i spent 3 hours and 45 minutes. Why? The vehicle was slower than the snail. On the way the engine died down so the driver used a stone to hit the battery cable for god-knows-how-many times. The battery responded to our call for urgency and punctuality. Again we nearly lost the door, thank God there was a mechanic on board. Once again passengers began complaining- 'we are going to Aflao', 'driver, let us board another vehicle if you can't continue with the journey', 'your car is so old, it should not go such a long journey', etc.

I looked at my phone and the time was 8:35am. 'Oh, i can be there on time' i consoled myself. I got to Accra at 10:01am when the lecture was to start. The next was to board another vehicle to the venue and it took me close to 15 minutes to locate the station. I greeted the 'mate' (a name given to conductors on mini buses.
'I am going to Cantoments'. I said.
'The drivers have closed so board my car and get off at Danquah First Circle, there you board another car to the U.S Embassy and ask of where you are going. Everybody tbke you there' he told me.
But how and why, at 10:00am?

With this in mind i jumped into the car. At the Danquah circle the mate humbly told me to alight. Upon the mate's instructions and directions, i got to the embassy and asked of my destination.

There were so many people with brown envelopes sitting on the ground- others sat on their handkerchiefs to stay off the brown, or red sticky Ghanaian dust.

'Good morning, madam. Please i would like to be directed to the Goethe Institut, it is near NAFTI' I spoke 'officially'. She replied ' I am new here, but you can ask this man' she directed me to a man who sat about a millimeter (1mm) away from her. The man also asked me to cross the road and talk to the nearest credit vendor. They were freshmen at the area. I concluded that they had come for visa application; they have families to cater for and the GHC3.70 or less (minimum wage) is nothing. Why not go elsewhere in search of greener, browner and redder pastures?

The vendor who,i think has been there since 'nineteen-kwadwo-hoohoo' (time immemorial) so she can drill her oil from desperate visa 'needers' was kind enough to direct me. And that was where the problem of directions popped up. The bottom line is that Ghanaians must name their streets and stop asking strangers to ask the call credit vendor for directions.

Even where streets are named, we are so wise not to refer to them.