The Trotro Girl
Documenting the Human Experience

A portrait of Ghana

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I enjoy long distance trips by road. Definitely not the sitting for long hours but all I get to see. Travelling across the country from one end to the other has always been a part of my life as someone from the upper Western part of the country who now resides in southern Ghana…

Usually, on the journey, 

I get to see the change in the weather conditions and the difference in the produce sold by the road across the different regions, the good roads and the terrible ones…

I get to eat hot fried yam or starve on the way because I hardly trust my stomach on long journeys. And of course, experience the tricks of food vendors who sell old or stale food to us as freshly made because our busses are leaving.

I love to see the different shapes, sizes and types of bread sold in different parts of the country, the long distances that people trek each day to their farms or to fetch water…

I see the dilapidated school buildings and the new projects…

Oh, I love to see sign boards that welcome you into one town and the ones that bid you farewell…

I enjoy the different names of the small villages and cottages and wonder sometimes, what they mean and the story behind that settlement…

I see the contrast in the so-called poverty and the display of affluence by perhaps, the city folks from those villages who have constructed homes they hardly ever come HOME to sleep in…

How exciting it is for me to see the sign posts of government projects, lands belonging to universities and factories of some popular brands we know…

…the offices of government agencies and ministries, branches of banks and rural banks only found in some of these areas…

Then of course, the awareness creation on open-defecation and its effects, the open-defecation free towns, others about the school feeding programmes, National Health Insurance Scheme and other government interventions…

The co-operative societies of farmers, women, the credit unions…

It’s a delight to see the small boutiques and licensed chemical sellers, the bicycle riders who sell practically everything you can think of. “Malls on Wheels”. That`s what I call them.

I see the children carrying heavy basins of water, the men and women with their cutlasses and hoes probably going or returning from their farms…

I see cattle grazing, village folks washing by the river, travellers, and hawkers offering us their wares, happy children waving at us, some playing games I used to play as a kid or others city kids know nothing about…

There are churches and mosques with almost every village having a parish or outstation of the Catholic Church, a branch of the Church of Pentecost and a branch of Light House Chapel International…

There are shrines and posters advertising mallams and fetish priest.ess.es…

Then the mighty trees and the tall ones that seem to be chasing us…

The huge trucks carrying goods, some going beyond Ghana. Many too overloaded to win a race against a snail. I sometimes wonder what type of goods those may be…

There are the villagers, directing traffic due to an accident or broken down vehicle.

I notice those that are barefeet, those shirtless and those placing piles of grass along the road to warn of danger ahead…

There are those who cross the road or drive recklessly and others who hesitate even when given the heads up by other road users…

I see those carrying firewood, those who speed past us in their flashy cars, those asking for lifts, and others travelling the same distance as us on motorbikes or tricycles…

I notice the Fulani with their cattle, and briefly reflect on the numerous farmer-herder conflicts we have heard about and hope that they can be safe and even feel a sense of belonging where they find themselves… 

There are mud houses with thatched roofs, those with bricks and blocks, the abandoned uncompleted structures, the farms and plantations of food and cash crops…

The police barriers, the toll booths, the speed bumps, the roofs of houses in the distance, the long and winding roads, the photos of people gone too soon, funerals and gatherings, church services…

The huge billboards and posters of politicians, sheds serving as meeting places for party members and sympathisers…

The filling stations in towns and those literally in the bush…

And then on the bus, 

You`ll see those sleeping, those who hate the AC, like me, and bundle up in warm clothes as if in winter, 

And those who throw themselves a party at every rest stop with kebab, drinks. I love these ones, haha…

There are those who get upset when another passenger needs to attend to nature’s call urgently and yet still get down to do their own thing too…

There are some who sleep throughout the trip and those who watch every movie, laughing out loud, or commenting on different scenes or singing along with every song that is played.

Then of course, those who argue and make enemies and those who reach their destination having made new acquaintances like my trip to Tamale in October 2021 where my neighbour and I had a 15-hour chat from Accra to Tamale (and I`m not kidding!). It turned out that he was a fresh graduate from medical school who knew my brother from the same university. Small world, huh!!

There are the passengers who make and receive calls from the start to the end of the journey, sharing all their business with us from the money they have or don’t to their marital issues to their views on politics, sports and life in general.

In some buses, there are those who sell mostly, medicines – for sleep, for sexual enhancement, for skin problems…

and those who buy, some who request to taste or apply the medicine before buying…

Often, you feel safer in some buses than in others.

Some take your details and a contact for emergencies, they weigh your luggage instead of slapping you with just any price and they have an armed escort for every bus. I sat beside one on this journey and he exhibited professionalism in handling the gun. He would load it while on the bus and take out the bullet when getting down at every stop with the gun pointing down at all times.

I love and enjoy my country.

If ever you have the opportunity to travel across Ghana in your own car, use the opportunity to stop to take photos, support small businesses by buying fresh from the local people if you have the time and money.

If via public transport, look out at the life that is being lived all around you – the communities, the farms, the water bodies, hotels and rest stops. Then, look within the bus too for the life that in one way or another is interacting with you.

Tour Ghana!

Enjoy Ghana!

Share Ghana!

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8 Comments
  1. Summuo Bainge says

    I can relate so much and it feels like I just traveled from Sunyani to Wa. Great piece Trotro Girl. Keep up

    1. thetrotrogirl says

      Thanks Summuo.
      I am glad you found it relatable

  2. Seth says

    The imagery! Such an accurate portrait painted in a few words! It succinctly summarises the Ghanaian way of life. Our warmth. Our shared values. Our economic life…
    This is a great piece, not just because of the words, expressions, or style of writing, but also because of what it does. This is Ghanaian life being documented. The sociologists will appreciate it even more.

    Thanks for the beautiful nostalgia. ❤️🇬🇭

    1. thetrotrogirl says

      Thank you so much

  3. Danso Bright says

    A true description of Ghana. Next time tell the driver to time in to Heaven FM for a very undiluted word of God.

    1. thetrotrogirl says

      Thank you, Bright

  4. BTElliot says

    Wow, such inspiring and lots of motivation and wisdom ✨️ from the write up.

    God bless you 🙏 ❤️

    1. thetrotrogirl says

      Thank you.
      God bless you, too.

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