There’s a certain military feel to the air, and people who come and go, smiling all over the place. To be exact, we are in the room that is trying to be a bar, surrounded by garish flags that hang from the ceiling, humus on the bar, more smiles and on the TV Jerry Lee…
“NO. IT’S NOT MALARIA,” said Drazen, dripping, “it’s something else. Something cold that gets in your bones.” Only the food, which finally arrived in the form of chicken, rice and cassava fish, interrupts the silence. We discover that we are, indeed, hungry, and at the pace of beetroot grey, of a peeling terrace and Balkan…
“BECAUSE IF NOT, I’LL DIE”. Sitting at a round, plastic table. We drink some Club Beers. Our pupils dilate and take on the form of small sugared ovals. That go up and down. Kevin comes closer to us and tells us, “Because if not, you die… So this weekend I went to Buchanan. You have…
FOR A WHILE NOW I HAVE TRIED TO FIND OUT MORE ABOUT AFRICAN LITERATURE, a far from simple exploration for a European dominated by the White canon. And now here, in Accra – who would have thought so a few years ago – I have the historic chance to dabble at a literary fair that…
THE WATERFALL DROPS SPECTACULARLY ONTO THE LAKE and can be observed from two wooden hammocks that almost enter the water as if they were airbeds. This is undoubtedly a privileged enclave, where you can let yourself go with the soundtrack of the water, the colour of relaxation and the fumes of winding down. You could…
THE TELEPHONE IN MY BEDROOM RINGS AT HALF PAST SIX IN THE MORNING. Irritated, I place the receiver to my ear, and the receptionist tells me that a driver is waiting for me in the lobby. I inform him that I will be ready in an hour, or maybe two, and slip back into my…
IN GHANA, RELIGIOUS CONCENTRATIONS HAVE A POWERFUL STRONGHOLD. ‘Empowerment’, as the phenomenon is called, is full of clergymen whose faces are shown on many street walls announcing the next encounter and encouraging people to join the movement, to adhere to the cause. Near Independence Square some children play football on a scrap of wasteland where…
I KNOW RIGHT FROM THE START THAT JOKERS IS NOT MY KIND OF BAR. The moment I step foot out of the taxi, I can sense a certain carefreeness and self-confidence in the air, and that certainly isn’t my type of night. I don’t belong here, so here I am. I then make my way…
I AM WRITING FROM ACCRA, GHANA, AND I CAN SCARCELY BELIEVE THAT I AM FINALLY HERE. I am writing with bloodshot eyes, with several days’ stubble and pronounced bags under my eyes, but I want to tell you my story. So off I go. I leave from Liberia by aeroplane and land at Kotoka airport…