Caboose

Our taxi driver (I think he’s called Ado) failed to appear at 8am as we’d agreed, once it got to 8.20 I phoned him and was told he was coming (a common West African phrase which doesn’t actually imply an intention to arrive soon). He eventually appeared at 8.45 and seemed puzzled that I was annoyed.

Once we were in the taxi the driver was still standing about chatting to the eco-village staff, so I shouted across to remind him that we were waiting.

We got the whinging about the bad road on the way back as well. I timed the journey and it was about 40 minutes, so he probably hadn’t even left Asikuma until after 8am.

When we arrived at Asikuma I half-jokingly suggested that we reduce the fare from the agreed ¢80,000 to ¢70,000 because of his lateness. He immediately became stroppy, so I dug in, explaining that he had wasted our time so we’d reduce his money.

He kept demanding the ¢80,000, so I told him I knew he hadn’t left until after eight, he then said something like “this is not Africa, is Ghana” which made no sense at all.

Dave suggested that if he wanted the ¢80,000 he could wait 45 minutes for it, like he’d kept us waiting, but the driver ignored this. Once he realised that I wasn’t going to give in quickly he moved the car a bit and then came out ranting and raving at me. I stood my ground, so he got back into the car and parked it beside the other taxis.

The driver was now getting aggressive, gesturing in my face and shouting. I pulled out the ¢70,000 and said “here’s your money, take it”. He started complaining about the bad road again, I told him I didn’t care. I told him he could either have ¢70,000 or nothing and to take his money.

At this point he started grabbing my arm, I kept pulling free while he demanded money and he kept grabbing again. He was getting more aggressive and complained that I was cheating him. Dave reminded the driver that if he was prepared to wait (now half an hour) he’d get the ¢80,000.

Two men with guns (probably police, but Dave wasn’t sure and I didn’t see them) appeared behind me and then vanished again. By now the driver had moved on to grabbing my shirt, telling me he “go worry you” and “claim your bag”. I warned him not to try anything.

He tried pleading with Dave to make me give him the ¢80,000 but Dave just repeated his offer of waiting for the money.

He grabbed my wrist again and this time wouldn’t let go. I told him to let go and then told him again when he didn’t. Dave told him to let go but he just continued shouting in my face. I gave him one last warning and then aimed a gentle kick at his balls, this had the intended effect of making him let go. He swung at me, I’m not sure whether to try and grab me again or as a confused punch but I had moved away.

The driver followed me, still complaining about being cheated and demanding the money. He grabbed me again but Dave pulled him off, he retreated towards the other taxi drivers, who had been standing watching.

He started on Dave now, Dave pushed back, Marebec was shouting “stop” and Dave warned him not to try anything.

A little man in dark glasses came over from among the drivers and asked what the problem was. We explained and he then said we should give the driver the ¢80,000. He asked where Dave was from, Dave said “Nigeria” and the man demanded to see Dave’s passport. Dave refused.

After a bit of a stand-off, with the original driver still raging in the background, the man in dark glasses said “give me the money”. I told him I’d give him ¢70,000 and he accepted. We then hopped into a waiting tro-tro, I was glad when it left immediately.

I apologised to Marebec and Dave for getting them into what could have turned into a nasty situation. I’d been a little too bloody-minded in refusing to give in. Later that day I saw a sign in a shop “Never argue with a fool. Someone watching may not be able to tell the difference.”.

I’d been trying to teach the driver a lesson, that punctuality is important. In the event the lesson he took away was probably that white people are all out to cheat him.

The rest of the journey to Kpong (that’s a silent ‘k’) was peaceful. We were stopped at a customs/police barrier because the bus was overloaded and then had to go and show our passports to immigration officials. They didn’t have any problems but detained two Nigerians who had been on the bus but had no papers.

At the tro-tro station we had breakfast (I had lovely maize and honey pancakes) and then too another tro-tro towards Somanya. We dropped at the sign for the Cedi Bead Factory and walked along the dirt road, passed on the way by a Dutch couple in their car.

The bead factory was interesting, showing us the different methods of production and how they use powdered glass to make the patterns.

We got into Accra and returned to the Kokomlemle Guesthouse. It seems they do Nigerian-style bookings, the single room I’d reserved by phone had been given to someone else so I had to take a double.