Tiit For Tat - S01 E34

3 years ago

Tiit For Tat - S01 E34

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 34

THIS EPISODE IS DEDICATED TO ALL THOSE STRUGGLING TO SURVIVE.

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–Hardship in Ghana–

“Extreme poverty anywhere is a threat to human security everywhere.”— Kofi Annan, Seventh Secretary-General of the United Nations.

I suddenly opened my eyes and saw most passengers praying and crying to God to save us. Others have resigned to their fate. Suddenly, the tractor swerved just in time to narrowly miss colliding with the bus. It was just an inch to death. The bus skidded off the road straight into a bush. The force of the bus skidding off the road jolted our bodies and we bumped and colided into each other ,body for body.

In the extreme cases, some passengers hit their heads against the bus’ side windows, bruising their heads in the process. Then the bus stopped.

The Tractor was no where in sight.

Surely, it was a miracle. We pray to God for saving our lives .

The driver had burst the front tyre of the bus. It took him one hour to fix it and do a few adjustment on his car before we restarted the journey.The women who hit their heads on the side windows were given first aid.

****

We arrived in Accra at 11.00 p.m after travelling for almost 18 hours.

This had to be the longest journey of my life!, a journey full of adventures and risks. Luckily, we passed the night in the car until the next day.

My first impression of Acrra was a mixed one. Lagos, Nigeria had more unique architectural designs, bigger roads and more people on the streets than Accra, Ghana. Accra was however cleaner than Lagos,plus the people were more friendly and calmer.

Accra has a scenic setting beside the ocean. Being Ghana’s capital city, it has all the needed facilities a city is supposed to have. You will definitely feel the lively nature of it. Accra also has bustling markets.

Later, I became familiar with Jamestown and other important places like the famous Makola Market and effigy; kwame Nkrumah Museum, both of which are important to the art and culture of the city.

I didn’t come to Ghana for a tour.

I just wanted to seek refuge there for a while.I put my hands into my pocket to exchange the few remaining nairas I had.

There was none. My money was gone?

God!!! I remembered I still have about 10,000 Naira( 151.04 cedis) on me. I checked and checked my pockets but couldn’t found it. It was then that I remembered a certain young lady was following me keenly. She was at my back.

I scanned through the crowd in order to see her. I was about to give up when I saw the pickpocket.

Quickly, I ran after her while leaving my small suitcase at the spot I stood.

She broke into a ran when she saw me coming towards us. She disappeared among the sea of sellers and customers at Makola Market.

I returned to pick my bag only to realised the bag too was gone.

At that moment, I wished I die.

Is this how Ghana is , Female Pickpockets and smart bag snatchers?

Surely I had underestimated this country of Nkrumah.!How am I going to survive.?

That question triggered my heart to pound fast and tears to flood my face.

The world has turned against me so wickedly. The dusk was gradually setting in again.

The clouds gathered and the wind blew harshly. There was a lotto Kiosk beside me so I decided to stay under it for a few minutes.

The downpour started. The roof of the kiosk was leaking a bit but I had something over my heads.

I looked around in fear.The rain

became heavier. I couldn’t help it anymore. Surely, I had to find a solution for this matter. Starvation was also killing me.You could totally see the traces of my collarbone and cheekbone under my skin.

I walked for ten minutes and come across a different route that looked quite old. As a Nigerian in Ghana for the first time, I didn’t know the route and where it would actually lead me too. I began to walk on it in the night. I walked until my feets went sore. I was tired and hungry.

I gazed at the stars. I was exhausted.

Then I heard the sound of a truck coming closer. I raised my head to see where it was heading to. The truck was parked by the road side.The driver got out and went to urinate.

I sneaked into the truck and climbed to its luggage compartment at the back. After a few minutes, the driver climbed in and drove.

The truck was transporting fruit stuffs like watermelons, pawpaw, oranges, bananas.

Since I was hungry, I stole some banabas and ate while hidding in the luggage/load compartment. At the next stop , I peeped out and saw a “POLICE CHECKPOINT.”

There were Police outside standing with guns strapped on their shoulders. One of them was heading towards the back of the truck. I quickly came down and broke into a ran.

The driver and police suddenly turned and saw me. The driver shouted, ” Olé, Olé,Olé “(Thief) but surprisingly, the police were nonchalant.

As you know by now, running had become my means of survival. I ran and disappeared from that area.

I came across a petrol garage and went closer. The People were speaking language I didn’t understand. I guessed it was their local dialet; Ga or Twi.

As I passed by, some gave me wierd looks. I sat beside a toilet closer to the garage.

People became fewer and fewer.

The colds wind blew, I didn’t have anything to wear on top. I was a shivering. A lady wearing dirty clothes came to me and asked,”what are you doing here?

I answered, “nothing.”

“Then go home. The police will arrest you if they see you here,

“she said in English.

I responded, ” I don’t have a home.”

The Girl looked at me with pity .

Then she said, “follow me. I’m called Fatima.

She led me to the outskirt of the Central Business District. Before my every eyes, I saw a multitude of people mostly young girls aged between 15 and 25 years. They encamped themselves in very fragile wooden structures.

It looked like a shanty town or squatter settlement in the very heart of the city of Accra. It was made of plywood, corrugated metal, sheets of plastic, and cardboard boxes.

Some of the women also laid their mosquito nets in the open. At first I thought I was dreaming. Then reality dawned on me that that was their home.

“Here you are ….errrrr…….”

“Mike, “I helped her with my name.

“Okay, make yourself comfortable. You can sleep on that cardboard.

I would make it more comfortable and private for you tomorrow.

Despite the extreme poverty in that slum, I nearly laughed when she mentioned the word ” comfortable” and “private”

In fact It was rather the opposite. Who will be comfortable sleeping on a cardboard in the open at the mercy of the weather and its vagaries ?

There was no privacy there either. Woman sleep and bathed in the open. I believe most of them were also victims of rape and abuse.

It was just a poverty dominated community of homeless women.

I didn’t know how I passed my first night in the ghetto.

I later leant those women were called ” Kayayo” ( Head porters) They earned a living by carrying loads and people’s luggage. Most of them come from Ghana’s arid rural north to work in the bustling cities of the south.

They are paid very little, but nonetheless the work offered them opportunities that they don’t get in their rural villages.

According to Fatima,most of them get Ghc 20.00 a day and she said sometimes they carry certain big loads that even 100 men can’t carry.! When she said that,I elevated her to the status of a supergirl.

She lamented, “the people insult us. They don’t respect us, even though we’re the ones who carry their heavy things.”She said she left her village to work in the city of Accra six months ago.

She continued her lamentation by saying “When you go to bath, you have to pay. When you go to toilet, you have to pay. As for these wooden structures where we stay, 15 girls in a small room, and every week you each pay 7.00 cedis. Sometimes, they fall victims to rapist and roobers.

*****

What happened now that Mike was in Ghana.

Episode 35 had some interesting accounts.