Kwame and his wife, Comfort, drive from Accra to Kumasi with their English friend Tom Arthur. It is Tom’s first visit to Ghana. He is surprised to see the amount of food that is displayed along the road to be sold to passing motorists. He is further surprised when Kwame pulls over the car and Comfort starts negotiating with the merchants who are grouping around the vehicle to promote their wares.
To Tom, the further they went, the more dramatic the scene seemed. The trees grew even closer and closer to the road. He bathed his eyes in a greenness that he had never imagined existed and that he found softly soothing. It was green enlivened by frequent flashes of brilliant scarlet or gold as they passed the trees in full bloom. However, not all views were pretty. Tom was disturbed by the sad procession of animal carcasses that were displayed along the road. Held aloft by their tails by children and youngsters, freshly executed mammals and reptiles of a great variety were offered for sale to passing motorists. When Tom expressed his displeasure, Kwame explained that bushmeat was highly sought after in Ghana and many drivers stopped and bought it. The most frequently offered bushmeat was forest snails, about the size of tennis balls, sold alive and strung together in bunches with strong braided threads of elephant grass. Its abundance was testament to its almost universal popularity.
After they entered the Ashanti region and continued on to Kwame’s hometown of Konongo, the road rose and fell with a regularity that made monotony for frequent travelers but fascinated Tom. It’s like riding a low-frequency radio wave cast in red laterite, he mused. The roadside wares became more attractive with each undulation. Masses of tomatoes, oranges, and bananas came into view, stacked on wooden tables at strategic outlets. The sidings made it easy to park off the main driveway, and numerous cars stopped at each spot. Farm products less familiar to the English were also offered: yams, bananas, papayas, and avocados.
When the car stopped at one such roadside market, Tom was alarmed to find the vehicle immediately surrounded by a throng of women and children, all shouting the supremacy of their wares. Each vendor balanced a round tray of produce on his head while he held up a sample specimen for instant testing. Tom tasted an orange. He was equally surprised by the greenness of its exterior and the sweet juiciness of its interior. He had previously assumed that all oranges were orange. He now he knew that some of the sweetest ones were green. The downside was that they were also full of pips.
Comfort took the opportunity to stock her pantry for the following week. The basic items were the yam and the green plantain. Tomatoes, onions, and peppers took next priority, followed by smaller amounts of most other staples on sale. Tom was amazed at the ferocity of his haggling. He couldn’t hear what she was saying, but he thought she caught the sentiment. Each price, it seemed, was gross exploitation and only within the reach of a wealthy foreigner. Were they playing Rule Britannia? Through a long volume-declining speech, all prices were reduced to a fraction of the initial demand. Then, most surprising of all, an extra amount of product was invariably added when the deal was made. No offense was offended by either side. Both sides seemed to enjoy the confrontation. In the end, the buyer and the seller parted ways as best friends and promised to do future business at every opportunity.
They drove towards Konongo with the car full of the products of the forest farms. Tom hoped that no wild animals of the forest in the form of snakes, scorpions or spiders had accidentally climbed on a ride, hiding in the voluminous banana bunches. Comfort assured him that he had checked everything carefully before loading it into the car. There was some bushmeat that even Ghanaians didn’t enjoy, he quipped. In response to her question, she assured him that the snails couldn’t escape his tether either.
