In many folded parts, deep in the cramped closet of the rich-poor City of Accra, you’ll espy a hangar-and-a-half of a house sticking out, like a middle finger, on a dirt-tracked back road with yawning trenches crudely cut into its face by the mocking elements. You’ll see gaping gutters and little wild bush patches festering here and there. You’re also likely to see a termite-gobbled half-board of wood teasing '17-Bedroom House for Sale'!
Now, it didn’t say 17 rooms but 17 bedrooms. Does that reveal anything? Of course! The owner had in mind (assuming their mind was present) a house to live in, and not a public facility. But we know that most families that can count seventeen members are themselves a family of servants in other people’s homes. So, who did you erect this smoke mountain for – a football team? Because its sprawl is uncontrolled enough to hold a playing field. Or did you build it to house one-third of your entombed ego?