The dusks are calm in the centre of the City of Accra. The one-thousand-strong throng is long gone home. The suffocating streets are now airy, free and semi-deserted. But it is not the ground I cast my writer’s eye to. They sky is playing seductive sport with the sable sky and a razzle-dazzle of lights: blue, gold, red and white.
The birds are surfing on the twilight breeze in kindred pairs :-), and settling on highest trees or masts. Suddenly, it hits me, that there are more trees at dusk in the City of Accra than at high noon. They sway here and there in that pleasant, salubrious green which you’d imagine for a rich country or an earthly paradise. The ocean stalks the shore, a quiet but menacing blue; intense, watching, waiting to pounce!
Everything that moves is aroused in an easygoing, rhythmic flow; birds, trees, cars and the sea; buildings, humans, lights and the sky. It is close approaching a natural balance, tasted, loved, smelled, felt, only touched from the rarefied air of an upper floor of a high city-centre building.