‘Good morning, Miss Faye! I didn’t hear you coming in.’ She took two deep breaths before continuing. ‘Can I serve you some coffee?’
Faye nodded and waited while the housekeeper filled a large mug with the fresh brew. Taking the cup, Faye added a splash of milk from the milk jug in the fridge and had a sip.
‘This tastes wonderful, Martha,’ she said happily. ‘Where is everyone?’ she asked artlessly. Martha looked sceptical, not fooled for one moment by the apparently casual question.
‘Master Rocky is in the dining room with his mother,’ she replied dryly, turning back to her washing up and hiding a grin.
Faye stared doubtfully at the older woman’s back, then turned and headed to the dining room.
‘Good morning, Faye,’ Auntie Amelia said warmly as she walked in. ‘I was just telling Rocky that you people should set off soon so you have enough time to see all the sights at Cape Coast.’
‘The rain has stopped now so we can leave as soon as Edwin gets here,’ Rocky said lazily. He leaned back in his chair, his eyes on Faye. She smiled at him, feeling the now familiar wave of excitement coursing through her. Rocky looked relaxed in a stone-coloured denim shirt with the sleeves partially rolled up to reveal his strong forearms.
Taking a seat next to his mother, Faye sipped slowly on her coffee and tried her best not to look at him. Rocky, on the other hand, made no effort to look away, keeping his eyes on her expressive features all the while.
Amma came in, clutching her phone.
‘Good morning, Mama; hi Rocky,’ she said absently, sitting down in the chair next to her brother. ‘Edwin should be here in a few minutes.’ She paused for a moment, and then went on. ‘I can’t believe he’s leaving in only three days!’
Auntie Amelia stirred in alarm and stood up to leave before her daughter started on the same theme she had been forced to listen to every day since the now famous marriage proposal.
‘I’ll be in the kitchen with Martha,’ she said hastily as she snatched her empty teacup from the table. ‘Let me know when you are leaving.’ With that, she swept out of the room, leaving Amma staring after her in surprise.
Trying not to laugh, Faye took refuge in her coffee mug while Rocky rubbed his chin slowly, amused at his mother’s less than subtle flight and Amma’s clearly perplexed face. The sound of the gate opening distracted her attention and she rushed off to open the front door.
As soon as Amma had left the room, Faye couldn’t contain herself any longer and burst into laughter.
‘Poor Auntie Amelia,’ she choked. ‘Did you see the hunted expression on her face when Amma mentioned Edwin?’
Rocky laughed. ‘You can’t blame her – she must have heard his name about a thousand times in the last week. It’s enough to drive anyone crazy!’
‘Who’s crazy?’ Amma demanded as she walked back into the room, dragging a damp-looking Edwin behind her.
‘You are,’ Rocky answered coolly before turning to shake hands with his future brother-in-law. ‘Is it still raining out there?’ he asked, taking in the drops of moisture clinging to Edwin’s short hair.
Edwin gave Faye a hug and shrugged carelessly. ‘It’s not too bad now. It will probably stop soon, so we can get started if you are all ready.’ He looked enquiringly at them and Faye immediately jumped to her feet.
‘I’ll just get my bag. I’ll be down in a minute,’ she said. Amma followed her up the stairs and ten minutes later, they were in Rocky’s luxurious car driving down the dual carriageway out of Labone.
Amma and Edwin had dived straight into the back seat, leaving Faye quite happy to be in front with Rocky. It had stopped raining and a cool breeze wafted through the half-open car windows. Faye sat back and listened to the soulful songs on the radio.
‘Rocky, can you change the station to something more lively,’ Edwin piped up from the back. ‘That music will put you to sleep.’
‘You’re so unromantic!’ Amma grumbled. ‘Listen to the words of the song – they’re a lot better than that awful hip hop stuff you keep forcing me to listen to.’
‘You said you liked rap!’ Edwin protested. ‘You even came with me to the Nas concert last year, remember?’
‘How quickly they forget. You’d better get used to it, man,’ Rocky chuckled. ‘That’s what happens when you mention the word marriage, my brother.’
Incensed at Rocky’s attitude, Faye sniffed in disgust and turned in her seat to gaze stonily at the passing scenery.
‘Oh wow!’ She sat upright, completely forgetting her irritation at Rocky, and pointed. ‘What is that?’
To their right, rising majestically out of the green bush and scrubland was a huge hill dotted with large, white-roofed houses.
‘It’s beautiful isn’t it?’ Amma sighed. ‘That’s McCarthy Hill. One of my friends lives up there and the view from her house is breathtaking.’
Edwin looked sceptical. ‘It’s beautiful if you’re not worried about earthquakes. That hill is right in the centre of earthquake country. It’s like the San Andreas fault of Ghana.’
Faye bit her lip to stop the giggle threatening to erupt as Rocky glanced at her and rolled his eyes upwards in exasperation. Between Amma who only talked about Edwin, and Edwin who only talked about America, he was beginning to question the wisdom of his invitation.
They drove along a dual carriageway that eventually gave way to a single-lane main road. Rocky navigated its uneven surface carefully, slowing down from time to time to avoid potholes. Faye watched the passing scenery in fascination. Clusters of tall green trees interrupted a series of industrial buildings, warehouses, shacks and tiling factories, their coloured tiles prominently displayed by the roadside. Straggly coconut and palm trees hung desolately, struggling to survive in the face of the industrial encroachment onto their land.
Rocky slowed the car down and they stopped just before a road barrier manned by a couple of bored looking policemen, one of whom was carrying a rifle.
‘What’s going on?’ Faye whispered in apprehension, her eyes fixed on the weapon slung casually over the policeman’s shoulder.
Rocky gave her a reassuring smile. ‘Don’t worry, it’s just a checkpoint barrier – it’s supposed to be for surveillance against smugglers.’
‘That wouldn’t deter any decent smuggler.’ Faye looked incredulous as she took in the makeshift barrier, which consisted of a rusty gate attached to a concrete pillar.
‘It’s unmanned half the time anyway,’ Edwin scoffed. ‘If we had passed here earlier when it was raining, you wouldn’t have seen a soul.’
Saluting the policeman who waved him on, Rocky pressed down on the accelerator and the car shot forward again. The road was still wet and puddles had formed in the potholes dotted haphazardly along their route.
‘We’ll be in Kasoa soon, Faye,’ Amma piped up from the rear. ‘I tutored some secondary school students in ICT there a couple of years ago.’
They drove into Kasoa, where both sides of the road suddenly turned into an impromptu market. Faye craned her neck to see the wares being displayed by cheerful stall keepers, literally within arms reach of the car.
Now this looks more like I imagined a market to be than the one I went to with Martha, she thought, and much closer to the picture on my bedroom wall.
Rocky honked in warning as two boys rolling a tyre along the road with a stick almost ran into the path of the car. He drove slowly until they had passed through the densely populated market area.
‘Kasoa is a very important trade centre for the farmers in this region,’ Amma explained to Faye. ‘They do everything here from selling their foodstuffs at the market to buying their spare parts. They even do their banking here – Rocky’s bank has a branch in the centre of town.’
‘They also do their praying here,’ Rocky added with a grin, pointing out several signboards bearing the names of different churches.
Faye read the names out loud. ‘Church of God, Divine Believers’ Society, Holy Divinity Wo
rshippers… Who thinks up these names?’
Amma announced that she was thirsty and Rocky pulled into a petrol station, parking in front of the small supermarket on the forecourt. Edwin and Amma went in and returned a few minutes later armed with bottles of cold water and a large bag of popcorn. Ignoring Rocky’s exasperated expression when he saw the popcorn that was about to enter his precious car, Amma slid into the back seat and cuddled up to Edwin as they resumed their journey.
They drove out of Kasoa and for several miles the scenery was once again green forests and bush. The music was lively and Faye and Amma sang along tunelessly to the radio, taking no notice of the pleas from the men to stop. Amma passed the bag of popcorn to Faye who munched happily on the sweet buttery snack, giggling as she succeeded in cramming a few handfuls into Rocky’s protesting mouth.
Taking a quick swallow from the bottle of water Faye held out to him, he drove fast past coconut trees and palm trees with their branches spread out against the sky. The road curved through bushes, shrubs and thick green vegetation. Occasionally they would pass small groups of men and women trudging along from their farms or sitting behind vegetable stalls set up alongside the busy road.
‘Most of the people in these parts are farmers,’ Rocky said, nodding in the direction of a woman who was busy replenishing a large basket on her stall. ‘They grow pineapples and a wide variety of vegetables. They sell them along the road and in the major markets like Kasoa, Accra and other parts of the region.’
‘Oh, look, that signboard said we are 83 kilometres away from Cape Coast!’ Faye pointed at the board as they sped past.
‘We’ll go through Winneba first, and then it’s not too far to Cape Coast,’ Rocky said, smiling at her enthusiasm. He swerved to avoid a burnt out vehicle; the remains of the destroyed car had been stripped by scavengers of any spare parts that could be sold.
Faye shivered. ‘It reminds me of what Auntie Akosua said about car accidents being one of the main causes of death in the country. Why can’t people just drive more carefully?’
Faye stared out of the window, marvelling at the African landscape. Tall eucalyptus trees rose out of the seemingly endless miles of bush. Towering pylons carrying cords of power across the countryside to the urban areas hovered over the clusters of small hamlets and villages like an army of angry housewives, their giant arms crooked onto metallic hips.
Ironically, many of the communities nestling in the embrace of these iron arms were yet to receive their share of the national grid’s largesse and coal pots and kerosene lamps were the chief sources of power and light for many of them.
The eucalyptus trees gave way to coconut trees clustered together in groves and Faye leant across Rocky, trying to see the horizon.
‘Is that the sea?’ she asked impatiently, her eyes darting round.
‘No,’ Amma replied. ‘But we’ll soon be driving along the coastline and you can see it then.’ She leant forward and tapped Faye’s shoulder. ‘Look over there, quick!’
Faye turned back to look through her window and squealed in shock as they drove past a group of young men dressed in ragged shorts standing by the roadside. ‘What were they holding? They looked like giant rats!’
‘They’re grasscutters.’ Amma laughed at Faye’s reaction to the large furry animals the boys had been dangling by their tails. ‘They’re grass eating rodents and a very popular bush meat in the local soups. Sometimes they sell them smoked and flattened on frames. They are pretty tasty.’
Her friend shuddered. ‘I’ll stick to basic beef, chicken and fish, thank you.’
Rocky laughed and pointed to a road sign that indicated that Cape Coast was now 36 kilometres away. They drove quickly through Mankessim, another market town, but this time the goods on sale appeared to be almost exclusively timber and related products.
Then, finally, through the swaying coconut trees, Faye saw a strip of blue.
‘Oh, look, it’s the sea!’ She turned to look at the flashes of seawater, visible between the trees and shrubs that separated the road from the beach.
They drove through a few more villages and rural hamlets that reminded Faye of the communities they had passed on the long drive to Kumasi the previous weekend. As they headed towards Cape Coast, they passed an ancient fort perched on top of a hill, its reddy-brown walls decaying in the salty breeze. The sparkling blue sea was now clearly visible, as were numerous signboards dotted along the road inviting visitors to any number of hostels, hotels and churches.
They drove through the small town of Anomabo before reaching Biriwa. Here, empty kiosks with rusted corrugated-iron roofs lined the streets. The town was silent and the streets almost empty, as though all the energy has been sucked out.
‘You see children and older people, but there hardly seem to be any young men or women walking around,’ Faye observed, her gaze fixed on the passing scenery.
Edwin, whose mother had been born in Anomabo, explained that most of the younger generation had left for the larger towns and cities such as Cape Coast, Takoradi and Accra in search of better opportunities.
‘There’s so little to do in these small towns now that no one wants to stay,’ he said. ‘They just send their children back for the grandparents to look after and go and look for jobs in the hotels or tourist areas in the bigger towns and cities.’
The state of the road suddenly improved dramatically and the potholed highway was transformed into a smooth dual carriageway along the side of which they could see food stalls manned by young girls selling the Fanti version of kenkey, the popular fermented maize, wrapped in dark leaves and stacked like bricks on the tables.
Rocky slowed the car down as they drove into Cape Coast. The road wound uphill past run-down buildings with peeling green and yellow walls. Kids called out to each other as they scampered along the edge of the road playing football, and took little notice of the vehicles driving past them on the narrow roads.
‘So what’s special about Cape Coast – apart from the pineapples?’ Faye asked, tapping Rocky’s knee.
‘Well, Cape Coast does have an important history. It was once the capital of the Gold Coast – as Ghana was called before independence from the British – and it’s now the capital city of the Central Region of Ghana.’ He lowered his voice dramatically. ‘It’s also the home of 99 little gods.’
She looked askance at him but before she could speak, he gestured to his right.
‘Cape Coast is also famous for its church spires and steeples. Just look over there.’ Faye stared, astonished, at the sheer number of spires that appeared in quick succession as they drove along.
Then, as they drove further up the hill, Cape Coast Castle came into view. She gasped at the sight of the huge white edifice and the rusting black cannon visible from the road.
Rocky drove up to the castle and parked the car on the grass verge and clambered out onto the soft earth, still moist from the morning showers. He came round to open the passenger door and held out his hand. Faye automatically slipped hers inside his, looking upwards in awe at the Castle as they walked towards the entrance.
Rocky took care of the tickets and they passed through into a large paved courtyard in the centre of the Castle. Looking up, they could see roughly hewn stairs leading up to balconies with black railings and windows screened by blue wooden shutters. Black rusting metal lampposts converted to use electric light bulbs were planted around the courtyard.
Edwin had gone to make enquiries and came back shortly afterwards to join the others. ‘There’s a tour starting soon, but the guide says we have time to take a look at the museum first.’
The four of them climbed up a stone staircase and entered through the door marked ‘Museum’. They moved past a darkened side room where a group of tourists stood engrossed as they watched a short video about Ghana, went through into the main hall, and walked slowly around the museum exhibits.
Faye paused beside the first display and read the information on the card with interest.
‘The Gold Coast was an important trading centre with flourishing towns and city states and it existed long before the first Europeans ever arrived. Oh, and listen to this… “By the 1480s the Portuguese had reached the coast and started the gold rush. Ghana’s subsequent history has been one of interaction between Africans and Europeans trading in gold, ivory, pepper and eventually, slaves.”’
She gave a hollow laugh. ‘No wonder they say we are such a welcoming people – we welcomed the traders for years, even after they started selling us!’
Rocky stood beside her, a brooding expression on his handsome face as he read the notes below the display. He shook his head in disgust at the more gory aspects of the castle’s history. ‘Most of these fortresses and castles that the Europeans built have fallen into decay, although some of them were refurbished into schools and government offices. This castle and the one in Elmina are registered as World Heritage Monuments, which is just as well. They are a reminder to us to never forget what was done to our people – by others and by ourselves.’
They moved from one exhibit to the next, fascinated by the unfolding story of the continent and the slave trade, described there as one of the most tragic chapters in the history of Africa and the Americas. In one exhibit, beautiful photography highlighted the story of gold, and how raw gold starred in abundance in Ghana’s history; being used over the centuries for sculpture, for currency, for regalia, jewellery and ornaments.
‘Edwin, do you realise where the word cedi comes from?’ Amma asked, pulling Edwin away from the metal gold weights he’d been scrutinising. Without waiting for an answer, she gestured towards the exhibit she had been examining.
‘It says that when the European traders arrived in 1470, they came in search of gold. But, as trade developed into more than bartering, gold dust was used as currency along with iron bars and cowrie shells. The name of our currency today, the cedi, comes from sedee, the Akan word for cowrie shell.’ She smiled affectionately at him. ‘You see? You learn something new every day.’
From Pasta to Pigfoot Page 33
