Picture of Makola Market, Accra Ghana West Africa
The cock crows as sunset looms and merchandisers appear in droves. Old rickety lorries bursting at the seams crawl into the market square. Stall owners, shoppers and mere strollers are seen on their way to Makola, every man’s market as birds flocking to their place of hibernation.
It is afternoon and sun rays as from a hot furnace hit the skin with a fierceness that brings discomfort, often slows the pace but cannot stop the day to day race. Wood and aluminium built beauty salons busy with jovial chatty women braiding and weaving. Roadside traders, windscreen washers form a tapestry amidst vehicles. Drivers ignore blinking traffic lights, and hoot at each other demanding passage rights.
Here, the radio at full blast, dogs barking and goats bleating, with grown men in rags begging.There, market women calling, shoppers bargaining and babes on mothers’ backs crying with youth playing and laughing. Every where, sights and sounds are seen and heard and with the smell of fish and stew
tell the story of the Accra market day crowd.
The sun escapes slowly into its chambers leading the way for the market procession to dismantle for departure or to simply walk away. A day dawned and smiled at the seller, buyer and beautified the mama and diva and now waves good bye until another day.
©Deborah E. Nyamekye 16/10/2016