The second chapter of my PhD thesis is kind of a mini-ethnography of people living alongside the Accra-Kumasi road. In Kyebi, the roadside community in which I spent the first part of my fieldwork, I resided in a household located just a few steps away from the main road. Soon I got fascinated by the various ways in which inhabitants make use of 'their' road, talk about it and occasionally mis-appropriate it:

(1) As part of their quotidian routines, people walk, stand, sit and, through that means, socialize on the road. What I enjoyed most was my friends' roadside gossip when observing familiar pedestrians and travelers from beyond the local.

(2) The tangible presence of the road in people's life gives rise to narratives, discourses and imageries. There's much talk about dangerous strangers and spiritual forces at accident-prone road sections. Incredible road rumors are highly revealing too.

(3) Finally, the road being used, even manipulated, as platform for entertainment, as public arena for claiming religious and political authority , and for staging protest, fears and emotions.

[Overview Chapter 2]

The sharp bend at Potroase, one of the 'black spots' on the Accra-Kumasi road

When people talk about Potroase, many jokingly refer to the village as ‘Airport’. Initially, I thought that the nickname was given because of the names’ funny similarity. However, each time I mentioned ‘Airport’ myself or inquired about the nature of this nickname, I was told exactly the same story:
A stranger, some say it was a white man, once travelled from Accra to Kumasi in the night. Upon reaching Potroase, he realized that he had run out of fuel and decided to get some. That night, the village appeared to the traveller like a big city with lots of animation, many lights and even a filling station. Hence the name ‘Airport’, some narrators suggest. But the story goes on. After buying fuel, the man continued his journey only to realize later that he had forgotten to get his change. He decided to collect it on his way back. When he stopped in Potroase again, in another night, he was surprised that there was neither a filling station nor lights. The place had turned back to what it usually is, namely a little dull village somewhere in the middle of the main road.All my friends in Kyebi were persuaded that the ‘Airport’ story was just a myth disseminated by the older generations. Still, some confessed that they always feel a bit afraid when reaching the Potroase spot on a trip to or from Accra. [continue]

The road with its pedestrians and passing vehicles is perfect entertainment. Roadside dwellers enjoy observing and critically commenting on the road's activities. There's the drunk neighbor in search of more akpeteshi; hardworking farmers carrying foodstuffs; families rushing to church; a secret couple in the pitch dark; show-offs with their new cars; crazily speeding buses from Kumasi; an overloaded cargo truck that will never make it all the way to Mali.

Pothole ethnography: why they need to be repaired

Quite easy to tell, these pictures were taken during the rainy season. The trees are lush, the grass on the soft verge asks for serious weeding, and the potholes need to be repaired. The heavy rains - with the help of vehicles constantly bumping into the eroding asphalt - had created this particular pothole in front of our house. I was sure though that Ofori was filling it with soil for the sake of the passing vehicles: they risk to have their tire or chassis damaged when hitting the whole. Wrong. Ofori is concerned about his own safety. This pothole is potentially fatal, he says, as a driver hitting it could easily lose control and swerve off - right onto the pavement where he spends lots of his free time sozialising and watching the road. And who wants to get killed while chatting with friends anyway?


Walking and chatting on the pavement

Reaching out for souls, oh, and for the 'lorry fare'


... will Pastor Ofosu auftreten, wenn er in vollen Bussen predigt. Er fährt regelmäßig von Suhum nach Accra, um in den Überlandbussen und trotros zu evangelisieren. Ich traf ihn schon zuletzt auf der Fahrt nach Accra. Später interviewte ich ihn zu Hause. Heute war ich mit ihm auf Tour. Er freut sich riesig, dass ich mich so für ihn interessiere. Für mich ist er ein wahrer Glücksgriff: ich kann filmen, fotografieren, nachfragen. Noch ist mir unklar, ob er verstanden hat, dass mich seine Botschaft weniger interessiert als der automobile Rahmen seiner Mission.

Arranging things nicely and displaying them strategically. That’s the motto of roadside sellers who want their goods to fall into the hands of bypassing passengers. Depending on commodity and location, a further necessary strategy is to offer items in a skilful way so that potential customers’ attention is attracted. This takes place for instance at bus stations where making bodily efforts is really necessary. Here the travel snacks are not only to be announced in a loud voice but also need to be rushed to the vehicle windows.

In my project I do not only deal with drivers and passengers but also with those who encounter the travellers on the roadside with their goods. And who exhibit the latter in a tasteful way – quite often in front of a threatening stage with its racing and ruthless road users.

Traveling in the night with Ashigame, a 50-years-old driver from Suhum. He is a bit older than most of his driver colleagues, and that’s why he has many regular customers. He likes working with market women whom he picks up in Accra in the evening, together with their goods, and drops them off in the villages on the way to Suhum. The ladies know each other by name (the driver as well) and happily converse during this evening journey in various languages. During that trip I sat far in the back, next to some sweaty women, their baskets and sacks. On the last bench - the one higher than all others in this type of Benz bus - sat a young and seemingly exhausted woman. She soon dozed off and would almost have fallen out of the open window if her friend had not given her some slaps on her laps. – I was able to take this shot on the road when the driver’s mate turned on the light inside in order to collect the fare.

His Excellency, the President of the Republic of Ghana, traveling on 'my' road!

It seems that all things which are of utmost importance in Ghana are moved in convoys over the country’s roads. Take for instance the large bundles of Cedi notes of the Bank of Ghana, or important chiefs, government or regional ministers and the coffins of big men who all get escorted. Including the President himself. You really can’t miss these convoys when they pass by as they are announced from far with the screaming sirens, horns and warning lights of powerful vehicles which make up the speeding entourage.

I found it quite impressive how the President of Ghana is escorted. The advance guard is formed by police motorbikes, also referred to as dispatch riders, which zigzag across the road and bring the oncoming traffic to a halt. They are followed by black and heavy SUVs, including the armoured government vehicles - all with sirens, high beams and warning flashers. The President’s vehicle doesn’t have any number plate but displays the coat of arms on its front and the national flag on the side. The exact same model – however with covered insignia – speeds along with the fleet, in case the President should have to change the vehicle. Finally, an ambulance is usually sent along, too, as crashes within (or because of) the presidential convoy have occurred in the past. Just like the other day in Accra...

Police checkpoint on the open road

The other day I drove to Accra with Madam’s car. When approaching the police checkpoint after Asuboi I got a bit nervous. I had forgotten to take along my driver’s licence. But Madam, dozing on the front passenger seat, just said: Relax. Yet we were flagged down. A policeman who waved with his radar gun triumphantly shouted through Madam’s open window: Sorry, Madam, we catch you ooh, 'Oburoni' [the white man] likes speeding, eh? And Madam replied with indignation: But that’s not possible! I told him to slow down, and we know well that you always stand at this spot.

Well, in the meantime another policeman, quite curious, had come to my window. Insecure as I felt I asked him whether I had really gone too fast. He said no and decided to ask me about my driver’s license. What to do!? I acted a bit confused and leaned over to Madam who had just been asked by her policeman to get down from the vehicle. But she also ignored him. All the sudden my policeman switched to another topic: So, what do you have for me for my lunch break? [more]

I waited for five hours with Edwin at the CMB bus station (central Accra) until it was his turn for loading. In addition to the 21 passengers his Benz bus had to swallow a huge amount of commercial goods. Incredible how they managed to stow it all away. For taking people’s baggage Edwin could collect 85.000 Cedis extra. But 5.000 had to be left behind at the police checkpoint behind Accra. Preventing the policeman from stopping our vehicle and from discovering that we are overloaded, he was given a bribe: When approaching, the mate quickly slipped a note into the policeman’s hand. “Fast!”, a woman sitting behind the driver commented with some appreciation. Avoiding an inspection means avoiding a penalty – but means above all getting home earlier. The latter suits all travellers, in particular when travelling in the evening, in the dark.

Actually Edwin dislikes giving bribes, especially when he knows that his vehicle and papers are alright. Even in this case some of his driver colleagues pay at police checkpoints. For a quicker continuation of their journey. But ... [more]

These three young men from Burkina Faso are waving at their rescuers. They helped this tipped-over truck to get back on its wheels – with the assistance of a simple tractor and a long steel cable which had to be stretched over the Accra-Kumasi road. Too bad I was about 20 seconds late for a nice shot of this uplifting moment.

Everything about this truck was somehow oversized, as the exhausted though proud driver and his mates narrated. Their cargo trip had started in Ouagadougou three months earlier. It took them so long because their truck first suffered from a transmission trouble, followed by engine troubles, then dangerously loosening freight and finally broken tires. For the former, the three men had to wait in a northern Ghanaian village for several weeks until a mechanic finally arrived from their home country. [more]

Suhum, the neighbouring market town where I have my second residence, was hot the other day. A corpse was found lying near the highway to Accra – the fifth discovery since last December. And after the District Commissioner’s declaring, on the radio just a day earlier, that there was nothing serious going on in Suhum, the inhabitants reacted with great anger. They went out into the streets to let the world know that, indeed, Suhum had a serious problem. Young men erected road blocks, set them on fire and thus were able to block the entire through traffic for over five hours. At some point the police intervened with tear gas, shot one rioter into his leg and freed the highway again.



People demonstrated in Suhum because, for some time now, they felt let down by local politicians and the police. Rumour has it that ritual murders are being committed but not properly investigated. No one has come out with a full proof yet, but people make all kinds of speculations: about suspects, the murders’ circumstances, cut-off body parts, rituals, and the responsible’s possible involvements. They also speculate about the white guy (maybe a BBC reporter?!) taking pictures of burning tires and the youth singing war songs. [more]

This articulated lorry – people here simply call it articulator – had been loaded with tons of vegetable oil before leaving Tema Harbour, near Accra. On its way to Niger, after driving only just 60km on the Accra-Kumasi road, the lorry lost its trailer. Searching for the cause, the driver showed me one joint which had gotten spoiled, allegedly due to the bad roads and their potholes. Not a single word about overloading.

People see such a tipped-over cargo truck as a material blessing, and they make kind of a cult out of the incident. Roadside residents who come rushing to the accident scene are keen on the landed load such as cement bags, boxes full of tomatoes, yams, timber or iron rods. Or they tap petrol from a stranded tanker if it hasn’t gone up in flames yet. In those villages which are clearly divided by the highway, the inhabitants are said to compete for which side is supposed to get a hold of the fallen load. Sometimes the police of military rushes to the accident spot in order to avoid looting. Of course the owners have to pay for their assistance. In the case of the vegetable oil, the driver and his conductor had to wait for two days and nights at the roadside until a replacement truck reached the scene.

The young men from the neighbouring village were happy about the landed goods. Not because they were given some of the yellow canisters, but because they were paid in cash for their help in reloading them onto the truck which was parked downhill for easier loading.

This gentleman makes sure that all taxi and bus drivers properly pay the parking fee (yellow tickets) for the Kyebi bus station. If they have done so, he will kindly lower the rope for the drivers to be able to hit the road. You just can’t imagine how many times there have been fierce arguments at this station exit because a driver was either not willing to pay – or because his registration number has not yet been put written on the white slip of paper, though of course he has already paid. A huge fuss about little sums.

The blood of a sacrificed sheep is poured into a bucket. Behind the crowd is the police checkpoint and the beginning of the Accra-Kumasi road.

What a coincidence: I was travelling from Accra to Kyebi when our trotro minibus got into a traffic jam just before crossing the city limits. This was annoying at first but then turned out to be quite captivating: the traffic jam was caused by a crowd which was attending a large-scale road ritual. In the middle of one of Accra’s most important arterial road some chiefs, priests and other traditionalists had gathered and created that traffic chaos. Very obviously they were celebrating a cleansing ritual in the course of which the blood of a fowl, a sheep and, finally, a full calf was sacrificed. I quickly got down, took a few pictures and got my share of the blood splashes which were distributed among the spectators, too, during the spiritual road cleansing.


Priests pour schnapps on a basket of palm tree branches. Under the umbrellas, some chiefs from the Ga Traditional Area (Accra) and their drummers.

The following day I visited the chief who had been the one in charge of that ritual. He appeared to be very friendly, helpful and also spoke fluent German (he once studied cinematography in Berlin). He explained to me in details how the Highways Authorities had missed to consult the traditional land owner, i.e. the Accra chiefs, before undertaking extension works on the Ofankor-Nsawam road section. Soon after the inauguration of the two-lane motorway quite a number of fatal motor accident occurred on that road. Allegedly a deity called Olila was responsible for these incidents. Olila now demanded that a ritual be carried out in order to exorcise the spirits or souls. And to cleanse the road to protect it from new accidents. Interestingly, too, the ritual experts had inquired from the police about the names of the deceased and then placed them symbolically into a basket made of palm tree branches. The latter was dragged to a nearby cemetery. No spirit is supposed to demand even for more blood.

... I have to be working. At least that’s the case for the bus rides from Kyebi to Accra (or vice versa) which can be long and exhausting. After setting off from the bus station many passengers soon doze off and only wake up again when the road becomes particularly bumpy. Or when the inside temperature rises drastically due to a traffic jam. But since I’m not just an ordinary passenger but rather have to do my fieldwork, I’m supposed to be awake and attentive. For my job is to observe what goes on on the road and inside the vehicle, how bus drivers work and how passengers arrange their travelling routine, etc.. Anyway, it would be utopian to believe that Ghanaian minibuses offer the appropriate environment for taking a relaxing nap.

These young shoemakers have their stall just by the Accra-Kumasi road, a stone-throw away from the Kyebi bus station. The guys have been complaining that a bypass has been built over a year ago. It means that the main traffic to and from Kumasi doesn’t pass any longer through Kyebi and the neighbouring villages. Therefore the ‘old road’ is now quiet, even dull. Hardly any long-distance travellers make a stop in Kyebi these days, and the shoemakers have less work to do.
Jovial as these guys are, they have founded a sort of club and named their roadside neighbourhood „Come Back Street“, which is now written on the asphalt in capital letters. This somehow conveys their intention to relocate the busy highway back to Kyebi. Of course they know that this will never be done. What they can do, however, is partying. Every once in a while they organise a street party, close down one lane of the road and make the town’s youth dance to deafening highlife/hiplife music.
One such „Come Back Street“ party was to take place last week [Oct 06], but was called off. The guys simply had missed that it was the time of the Ohum festival, a period during which palace traditionalists don’t allow any noise in the kingdom.

Anyinam lorry station, GPRTU office

The one with the light shirt is Flipa. He has been my field assistant for a little more than a month now and helps me with contacting people, visiting lorry stations, travelling on the Accra-Kumasi road, observing drivers and travellers and of course with taking notes. Here you see him conversing with officers of Ghana’s most important drivers’ unions, the GPRTU (Ghana Private Road Transport Union). They make sure that operations in and around taxi/lorry stations run smoothly.
Flipa also translates into English when things get too complicated for me in Twi. In return, I let him know what has been written on some of these vehicles which have been imported secondhand from Germany. We both think it’s quite amusing that, nowadays, this transporter from Günter Braun’s Schreinerei doesn’t carry wooden furniture over Ghana’s roads any longer but rather 24 sweating passengers.
The other day I liked Flipa’s methodological reflections on doing fieldwork among commercial drivers. He suggested that we could invite our informants for a beer or two, which is likely to make them talk more and freely. I guess such assisted conversations should rather take place in the evening or on days off the road.

Last Tuesday [06-08-22] I travelled from Accra to Kyebi. It was my 30th bus trip since my arrival six weeks ago. Luckily I was given a seat just behind the bus driver which allowed me to have a perfect view on the driver’s manoeuvres and onto what was going on on the road. Next to me sat a small boy who wanted to play with my camera, which his mother wouldn’t let him do. So he started crying, the driver threatened to beat him and he (the boy, of course) soon fell asleep. He wouldn’t even wake up when we had to take a detour on a bumpy ‘bush road’, about 30km before Kyebi. Once again an articulated truck had tipped over and was now blocking one of the busiest motorways in the country, i.e. my field of research.
It was a friend-driver from Kyebi who took this picture. He was waiting at the same lorry station for his turn to load his minibus with passengers and came over to our vehicle for a small chat.

Ghanaweb (21.08.06):
"Rampant road accidents attributed to spiritual forces"

Public Agenda (25.08.06):
"Religion and spirituality: Our nemesis?"

Public Agenda: 'Dossier: Rodas - Death Traps'

http://www.ghanaweb.com/public_agenda/article.php?ID=5677

Ghanaweb (03.06.06):
"Do not blame evil spirits for accidents"

Ghanaweb (20.07.06):
"Transport unions worried about accidents"

Accra Daily Mail (28.07.06):
"Decentralise Road Safety Committees to help reduce accidents"

Accra Daily Mail (22.06.06):
"GPRTU` to reduce road accidents "

Accra Daily Mail (20.06.06):
"President Kufuor inaugurates Ofankor-Nsawam dual carriageway"