The clashing cultures of the farming forest and the fishing coast have left me in a tangled skein as to whether Terrible Tuesday is a labour or leisure day. It should be arch relief to blame the bustling market squares for the passage gridlock. Sadly, I do not note more muscle-bound yam pedlars or lane-hopping hawkers, at high noon Tuesday, in the City of Accra.
The giddy malaise infects every artery out of the pulsating heart of the city, as Tuesday rudely farts its motor fumes and perspiration in the weary and famished face of the homebound Accraian. And it all won’t evanesce until way past the boring evening news, or benign bedtime.
So, who (or wicked what) is gushing trebly into the City of Accra on Tuesday, that doesn’t sweep this way on any other day? There must be some overrun answer prostating somewhere. Or am I soaring above the city authorities? The traffic is terrible, and somebody’s thinking is blatantly bagatelle-blank.