They weave through stalled cars like snakes in the grass, hissing and calling to get your attention, leaping to safety once the vehicles start moving again. Pop, peanuts, toilet paper, sunglasses, children’s games. Women, children, men, cripples -- all of them taking advantage of a systemic issue that burdens mobility in Ghana. Traffic.
Now we know traffic. Stop, start, Gardiner, 401. But not like this. Gridlock in each of the 225 square kilometers of Accra, the country’s capital city, every day from 6:30-9AM and 4-5:30PM. Sweat, fatigue, and sometimes tears of frustration. You could walk to your destination faster most days. Traffic in Ghana is like a never ending Friday at the office – as soon as it hits 5PM you’re out in a flash – the cool breeze coming through the car window revitalizing you and ah, this day is turning around, but what is that? You’re phone is buzzing, your boss is asking you to come back to the office. You’ve hit the next wave of traffic. And the cycle continues.
But it can also be an opportunity to get a taste (literally) of local culture – food, clothes, common household items – my Uber driver yesterday bought a literal piggy bank from a child while we were stalled on the highway. It’s like having a Walmart drive through at every street light, toll booth, and bus stop.
While the traffic boils commuters’ blood, it’s created an entire economy of entrepreneurs. The exact figure of street vendors is unknown, even government census data cannot be considered accurate, but approximately 80 percent of the Ghanaian population works in the informal sector – a similar number to Tanzania.
A large minority works in the agricultural sector - namely farming guinea fowl (poultry). But a larger minority work as simple goods vendors, selling everything from bagged water to diapers. The industry has been able to thrive because of the country’s severe unemployment rate, but that means if they aren’t busting their ass, they’re not eating that day. They face many challenges as lone-wolf, self-employed workers.
They situate themselves at the junctions of Central Business Districts (CBDs) to receive the most human traffic, and naturally come into conflict with local authorities. Competition is another debilitating obstacle - the sheer number of vendors at any given traffic light can reach up to 100 with many of them selling the same product. The government has constructed designated markets to settle the issue, but out of fear for lost clientele and profit the vendors remain in the CBDs.
Not unlike issues with agricultural prosperity in Tanzania, street vendors in Accra face problems with value chain economics. National wholesalers typically sell to informal “middle-men” enterprises, and by the time the product gets to the vendor on the ground the price is steep and profits for the worker are slim to none. The fluctuation of the cedi (Ghana’s currency - pronounced city) also greatly affects the wholesale price the vendors receive.
It seems the city never sleeps, and these street vendors are working from before sunrise to after sunset. Business drives business hours, and the competition isn’t resting - but competition sometimes goes beyond the kiosk next door. Even if the vendors can get ahead enough to purchase a small shop or piece of land, they roll the dice on whether the rapidly developing city will force them to relocate for a shopping mall or new roads, sometimes without notice.
With impending demolitions from the nation’s plan to modernize Ghana, the construction industry is booming. The demand for tradesmen and women has never been higher, although there is a lack of support services for young people who want to get into the industry.
The Artisans Association of Ghana (AAG), the organization I’ve been assisting, is a member-based organization with the aim of creating a national network of contractors, matching them with jobs, and providing trainings and certification. AAG boasts upwards of 6,000 memberships and has recently launched YIEDIE (meaning progress in the local Twi dialect) which is a technical and entrepreneurship skills program, and will reach more than 20,000 youth. My role has been to help deliver health and safety trainings to local youth members.
5AM is a suitable time to begin opening your shop in Ghana, but while the entrepreneurs sleepily prepare for the day, this is prime time for running. You’re guaranteed no stressful vehicular or haggling encounters, and you dodge the heat that begins as early as 5:30AM. Get a local to show you around though, it’s pitch black and the street lights don't always work. That being said, in some ways running in Ghana is easier than in Tanzania. It’s the middle of the rainy season here and so, although that means the dirt roads get mucky, it also means there is no dust kicked up from cars. I’d take that over caked shoes any day. The lack of dust-induced asthma is motivating me to run more.
Thought I’d try my luck at a local road race in downtown Accra. 5km, a suitable distance since I haven’t been training anywhere close to the amount I’m used to. This would be the first time racing since the Houston Half Marathon back in January. Maybe take the win? Not quite -- little did I know 400 people were entered and I definitely underestimated the local talent.
The start felt like a 400m race – quick off the gun and no looking back, dull pain setting in around 250m. The pack of 30 bodies broke at the 600m mark and each settled into their own pace. I ran next to a tall, slim man as we clicked off a 3:13 first kilometer. Yikes that hurt. Around the 3km mark the leader was well clear of the rest, second place was in sight, and I was losing the battle for third with the tall man.
Dodging cars and pedestrians (of course the streets were not blocked off for the race) we rounded the final corner towards the finish, and I caught my competitor off guard with a devastating kick, edging him out for the last podium spot in just under 17 minutes. I’d forgotten what the elation of lactic acid and self-satisfaction felt like from pushing your body that far, that fast. Pure bliss. Pure pain.
The post-race comradery was everything you would expect and more, everyone congratulating each other, laughing, and eventually breaking out in a full on dance party cool down (twerking contests and all). I also met the High Commissioner of Canada to Ghana (she did not partake in the contest).
The rest of the weekend was spent navigating the fatigue from the race. Luckily a couple other volunteers and I had planned a trip to Cape Coast for some R&R. It made me remember all the times I’d pushed myself to the well with my teammates. It gave me some hope that it wouldn’t be too difficult to start training again when I’m home. But most importantly, it transported me to a place where for a moment it felt quite comfortable to be 9,000km away from home, to a place where the systemic issues present in Accra and elsewhere were out of sight and out of mind. These moments have been few and far between lately. Until the next one...
Two more weeks in Tema (where apparently Ed Sheeran produced a Grammy-winning album?) before heading back to Tanzania! Looking forward to being back there, but looking forward even more to being home in time for Christmas!
Mast art by @wondersowanders
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