Category: Ghana

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A ‘Pay-as-you-Go’ Credit World

 

Here in Ghana, the 'pay as you go' business model is primarily used for technology services, in contrast to the Western 'monthly subscription' model. This is due to a combination of two main factors:

  • Credit Cards: They're simply not used. Besides at Accra Mall (where everything is brutally overpriced), I've only seen one or two places that even accept them. Without the automatic billing feature, it can be difficult for payment to be reliably collected every month.
  • Financial Irresponsibility: Many Ghanaians tend to spend money as they receive it. A large amount of the population lives day-by-day, and doesn't have much (if any) money saved. Having commitments to pay a certain amount every month may not be an option.

In a way, the 'pay-as-you-go' feature is great for the economy because it allows the middleman to flourish. The wireless and electricity companies couldn't dispense credit to everyone, so they instead ship credit wholesale to retailers. Thousands of people in Accra make their living by selling credit.

3 main aspects of Ghanaian life are bought in a 'pay-as-you-go' manner:

Phones:

While upper-class businessmen sometimes have monthly phone subscriptions, I'd estimate that over 90{3a5a0fd47fd42b6497167aecc6170a94848f1ba936db07c4954344fcfff1d528} of the population recharges their cell phone credit as-needed using scratchcards (see below). This credit is easy to find, with several people on every block selling credit. As if that isn't enough, people also weave  in-and-out of traffic stopped at red lights to make sales on the go.As far as costs are concerned, one SMS text message costs 4 pesewas ($0.025), while every minute on the phone costs 10 pesewas ($0.06).

One interesting aspect of this business model is that only the person making the calls uses credit;  accepting phone calls doesn't use any credit. When I told Ghanaians that in America both ends of conversations use their minutes, they exclaimed, "Wow – you guys are being double-dipped!"

 


As good as it may sound, the non-subscription model does 'bite back'. Because customers can switch networks freely, cell phone companies have no incentives to give 'deals' on phones. The phones cost full price, which hurts. The cheapest phone is roughly 45 cedis ($30), while keyboard phones cost a minimum of 110 cedis ($75). Samsung Galaxy phones cost a minimum of 850 cedis ($560).

Internet:

Internet is usually purchased via a wireless USB modem with a SIM card in it. It is far more expensive (and slower) than American internet; lately I've been lucky to get 100 kilobytes per second.

Following are the current prices for Airtel Internet Bundles:

  • 20 pesewas ($0.12) per megabyte; pay-as-you-go
  • 1 cedi ($0.66) for 25 megabytes
  • 5 cedis ($3.25) for 200 megabytes
  • 15 cedis ($10) for 750 megabytes
  • 60 cedis ($40) for 4 gigabytes
Internet is, by far, the most expensive and frustrating part of my monthly budget. At times it's too slow for e-mail, and updating my blog (not to mention uploading photos) can be a chore.
 

The reason there was no blog post yesterday is because my internet suddenly stopped working in the middle of writing about kélé wélé. It took 3 hours  before I finally got the 'Your subscription has expired' message.

 

Electricity:

This certainly is the most annoying aspect of living in a 'pay-as-you-go' world. Every time the electricity card runs out of credit, the banshee living in the electricity monitor starts to scream – disrupting my sleep for days. It doesn't shut up unless it is unplugged (and you lose all electricity in your house), or credit has been recharged.

You may not be able to see the banshee – but that doesn't mean she's not there.

One notable exception to the 'pay-as-you-go' business structure is television cable; Ghanaians never pay. Channels are included with the television, and while there's supposedly an annual 'licensing fee', it's not enforced.

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Ghanaian Local Foods: Rices & Doughs

Plain and simple, Ghanaians love carbs. They are the main component in a local diet, and I have yet to have a single meal that doesn't feature them.

This list will be updated as I discover more foods to add.

Rice Dishes:

 

[easyreview title="Plain Plain Rice with Stew" cat1title="Taste" cat1detail="Ghanaian stew is made of tomatoes, tomato paste, and onions. Although at first I saw this dish as boring, I now see the simplicity as refreshing and I enjoy it – despite eating it nearly every day. When made with local brown rice, it is fantastic – the brown rice has a rich, earthy taste." cat1rating="3" cat2title="Texture" cat2detail="Ghanaian white rice has a similar texture and taste to that of white rice in the U.S., but the local brown rice is 'something else'. It is plumper and more moist than brown rice in America, and is absolutely delicious. Beware: if the rice is not washed carefully by the cook, you'll end up eating stones with your rice." cat2rating="3" cat3title="Overall Appeal" cat3detail="Rice with stew is the perfect 'go-to' dish. It's decent when eaten with white rice, but with brown rice it is refreshingly delicious. Top it off with a nice piece of wagashi* (see below) or fried plantains, and you have yourself a perfect lunch." cat3rating="3"]

Local brown rice with stew and wagashi* (deep-fried cheese)

 

[easyreview title="Jollof Rice – rice cooked in tomato stew" cat1title="Taste" cat1detail="The taste varies widely based on the chef. Some jollof tastes strongly of stew, while others have a mild taste of stew and a strong taste of smoked redfish. I see it as nothing special, but a decent meal nonetheless." cat1rating="2.5" cat2title="Texture" cat2detail="Similar to that of Spanish rice, but drier." cat2rating="2" cat3title="Overall Appeal" cat3detail="Jollof rice is a 'safety' – a food I can cheaply buy on the street, and know that I will leave satisfied. It's nothing spectacular." cat3rating="2.5"]

Jollof rice

 

[easyreview title="Waakye* (pronounced 'wahche')" cat1title="Taste" cat1detail="When making waakye, local brown rice and 'beans' (black-eyed peas) are cooked together to create a delicious combination that must be tasted to be truly appreciated. Local black-eyed peas taste  far superior to canned ones in America – and much more like dirt. That is – the most delicious dirt in the world. The mild flavor and earthiness make waakye one of the dishes that I can't wait to bring to the United States. Even though it's usually served with stew or shito (a black pepper/dried shrimp sauce), the subtle flavor cues of the rice and beans are enough for me. " cat1rating="2.5" cat2title="Texture" cat2detail="The whole is greater than the sum of its parts – when properly prepared, the plumpness of the rice combined with the 'melt in your mouth' beans is stunning to behold. But be careful when ordering; if not washed properly, the stones and dirt overwhelm the dish." cat2rating="4" cat3title="Overall Appeal" cat3detail="My favorite of the rice dishes, waakye is nothing short of spectacular. When the dish is properly prepared, the local Ghanaian ingredients elevate the dish to the highest of highs." cat3rating="4"]

Waakye with fried plantains: This photo does not do it justice.

Waakye wrapped in ganye

 

The Doughs:

[easyreview title="Tuo Zafi* (dough made of powdered corn or cassava/semovita flour)" cat1title="Taste" cat1detail="The dough is very bland – the flavor comes from being dipped into soups and stews. This is the only non-fermented dough eaten in Ghana that I know of, and is nice because of how plain it is. When made of corn it tastes like unsalted grits." cat1rating="3" cat2title="Texture" cat2detail="When very fresh, tuo zafi is either soft and spongy, or smooth and doughy. Though the texture varies widely, tuo zafi is always enjoyable. " cat2rating="2" cat3title="Overall Appeal" cat3detail="Tuo zafi is likely my favorite type of dough, primarily because it is paired with great soups and doesn't have the sour 'fermented' taste.'" cat3rating="3"]

Fresh tuo zafi

[easyreview title="Banku (dough made of fermented corn powder)" cat1title="Taste" cat1detail="Despite being made of corn powder, I don't really taste the corn – only the fermentation. There's enough fermentation to taste it strongly, but not so much as to make the dough unbearable. When paired with a nice pepper sauce or some okra stew, it is enjoyable." cat1rating="2.5" cat2title="Texture" cat2detail="Banku is firmer than its counterparts, and seems to be more 'filling'.  " cat2rating="3" cat3title="Overall Appeal" cat3detail="While I prefer tuo zafi or riceballs, banku is 'by far' my favorite fermented dough. It's okay by itself, but fantastic when paired with freshly grilled tilapia.'" cat3rating="2.5"]

[easyreview title="Fufu (pounded cassava and unripe plantain)" cat1title="Taste" cat1detail="The unripe plantain overwhelms the cassava – making the fufu dough unpleasantly sour. Although many of my friends have grown to love it, my host family and I can't stand it." cat1rating=".5" cat2title="Texture" cat2detail="Locals say the 'trick to eating fufu is to swallow it whole rather than chew. While swallowing does make finishing a serving quicker, the overwhelming starchiness brings me to the point of gagging. " cat2rating="0" cat3title="Overall Appeal" cat3detail="If I was forced at gunpoint,to make the decision of eating fufu daily for the rest of my life or being shot, I would have a very difficult decision to make.

Hyperboles aside, fufu is a traditional Ghanaian food that is an acquired taste. It's just a matter of asking, 'Do I really want to eat enough fufu to start enjoying it?'" cat3rating=".5"]

My host-dad relieving some stress by pounding fufu.

A '*' signifies that this dish is primarily eaten in Muslim households.

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Ways to Know You’re Living in Ghana

  1. Air conditioning makes you shiver.
  2. You know every person in your neighborhood and interact with them daily.
  3. People don’t understand anything you say despite knowing small amounts of two tribal languages plus English.
  4. You pronounce ‘pepper’ as ‘peppey’.
  5. You think that ‘Obrunis’ (including yourself) look funny.
  6. After telling your host mom you’re not hungry she says, “Okay”, and still serves you enough rice for two or three normal people.
  7. Cars and motorcycles drive quickly on the sidewalk and nearly hit you – but you’re so used to it that you don’t even flinch.
  8. You stop exercising because washing your clothes by hand is enough of a workout.
  9. You regularly see people sweeping dirt floors.
  10. Internet peaks at 100 kilobytes per second (2011)
  11. Students get in trouble for smuggling soccer magazines to school.
  12. The first question you get asked when meeting someone is, “Are you a Christian or a Muslim?”
  13. After telling locals you’re from the United States they respond, “Are you from New York or California?”
  14. Skin color is merely a fact of life – a given that we are born with. Oftentimes I am referred to as “White man”.
  15. (Many) African-Americans are not considered to be ‘black’.
  16. People occasionally ask you to ‘say hello to Obama’ for them, and sometimes even  refer to you as “Obama” if they do not know your name. Ghanaians love Obama – see the photo below for proof.
  17. The only shows on television are English dubbed Spanish soap operas, Nigerian movies, and  religious gatherings.
  18. Americans would not be able to pronounce the names of most foods you eat.
  19. People carrying bags placed anywhere besides on top of their heads is a rarity.
  20. You are faced with the challenge of eating extremely hot soups and stews with your hands.
  21. You show up an hour late to a party and it still hasn’t begun.
  22. You can ask for a ‘hard one in a rubber’ (an aged coconut in a plastic bag) without getting strange looks.
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“Boy on a Swing”

In case you didn't read my 'typical school day' blog post, let it be known that I love my literature teacher to pieces. Ringo is a wonderful man who makes literature interesting, and genuinely cares for students as if they were his children. If every Ghanaian teacher was as amazing as Ringo, I wouldn't be having problems with high school abroad (more on that tomorrow).

Ringo's class is divided into 4 main segments:

  • European/American Plays and Novels (e.g. Old Man and the Sea, The Tempest, Arms and the Man)
  • African Plays and Novels (e.g. The Blinkards, A Woman in her Prime, In the Chest of a Woman)
  • European/American Poetry (e.g. John Donne, William Shakespeare, Robert Frost)
  • African Poetry (e.g. Kojo Kyei, Richard Ntiru, Oswald Mtshali)
Below is my favorite piece of African literature that we've read in the class.  The author of "Boy on a Swing" grew up in South Africa – a very important fact to understand the poem.
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"Boy on a Swing"
By Oswald Mtshali

Slowly he moves
to and fro, to and fro,
then faster and faster
he swishes up and down.

His blue shirt
billows in the breeze
like a tattered kite.

The world whirls by:
east becomes west,
north turns to south;
the four cardinal points
meet in his head.

Mother!
Where did I come from?
When will I wear long trousers?
Why was my father jailed?

[hr]

Although the poem first appears to be simple, it's actually full of meaningful symbolism representing the harsh realities of life under South African apartheid. Here's a couple of notes detailing what I love about this poem:

  • Simplicity – The first two stanzas are simple in nature, leading the reader to believe that this 'light' poem will be merely talking about a boy playing on a swing-set. The 'tattered kite' symbolism was even overlooked during my first reading, as I wasn't looking hidden meaning within the poem.
  • Progression – As the poem goes on, stanzas become more and more complex. The first stanza is written simply and without much detail – as if the reader is merely gazing at the boy from afar. The second stanza is as if the reader has moved closer, and is close enough to reveal the details of his clothes.  The third and fourth stanzas move even deeper – into the boy's thoughts, detailing his confusion and asking the questions that swirl around his mind.
  • The Compass Metaphor – This extended metaphor is a great way of showing how the world has turned itself upside down in his head as a result of being exposed to the injustices of apartheid. The four cardinal directions become one as the boy's situation turns his mind hopelessly disoriented.
    On another note… this part of the poem almost sounds as if it could become lyrics to a song.
  • The Rhetorical Questions – Normally, I hate them. They always seem out-of-place and awkward. Whenever I include them in my writing, I usually rephrase them to become statements as I edit the paper. However, in this poem they 'work' because they help show the innocence of the boy. For instance – instead of asking, "When will I have to deal with the brutality of apartheid?" he says, "When will I wear long pants?" The indirectness helps the reader believe that the speaker truly is a child.
On another note… I've been writing a lot of poetry lately; which is something I thought (and hoped) I'd never do. Poetry to me is more personal than nonfiction writing; I don't think I'm ready to share any of it yet.
 

 

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Study Abroad Presentation

Last Thursday I Skyped Barron Collier High live from Ghana and conducted a study abroad scholarship presentation.

httpvh://www.youtube.com/watch?v=akMFMylRUJc

The first 7.5 minutes consist of me talking about various scholarships for study abroad – including the NCWA (for Collier County), CBYX, NSLI-Y, and YES Abroad. The rest of the video is a question and answer session.

Note: Don't expect this video to be fast-paced; this is just the raw footage of the scholarship presentation with no editing. If you're not interested in applying for study abroad scholarships, I would recommend starting the video at the Q&A.

Special thanks to Mr. Kutz, Mrs. Joyce, and Mrs. Van Gemert for helping make the presentation a reality.

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Ghanaian Elections

Last weekend I went on a trip to Kumasi with my host dad to be introduced to several of his childhood friends. On the way, we stopped at a political rally for parliamentary nominations. The entire Muslim dominated community of Aboabo seemed to gather at the small NDC (National Democratic Congress) headquarters, where incumbent Honorable Alhaji Mohammed Mubarak Muntaka was to be nominated for another term in office…

Every car around the block was decked out with the same campaign poster for their incumbent parliamentary candidate.

After decorating our car accordingly with Honorable Muntaka's face, we proceeded to pack 8 NDC members into our 5 seater car, and left for the town center with the intent of dropping off the parliament nomination papers. Due to the sheer amount of people, there was a traffic jam, and it ended up taking us hours to get there and back.

Despite the burning heat of the Ghanaian sun, the traffic jam was remotely enjoyable. This is because everyone – shop owners, schoolkids,  and policemen alike, were all standing outside of their buildings to wave, hoot, holler, drum, and dance as we drove by.

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There was even a miniature parade at one point – including drummers, musicians, and men doing backflips for no apparent reason.

Eventually we arrive at our destination: a massive city square. It was chaotic – with dozens of drums being pounded, a crowd energetically dancing in the stifling hundred degree weather, nosy merchants pestering me to buy corn, begging children with eyes glued on my (empty) pockets, and reckless motorcycles constantly rushing through the rally at high speeds without warning. I had to always be on the lookout.

At one point, someone held up a poster for an opposition member to the incumbent. Madness ensued. The entire crowd began pushing and screaming; on the  building where the musicians were playing, two people were pushed to the point that they were dangling from the third floor balcony.

After an indeterminate amount of time, we began our journey back to the NDC headquarters. People on the street were excited to see us once again; I felt like a king as I waved them on and  fist pumped for 'my candidate', despite the fact that I I didn't even know who he is/what he stands for.

[hr]

In case you couldn't tell from the photos, Ghanaians really 'get into' their elections. In America, electability is based on cyber campaigns, debates, platforms, but most importantly, money. In Ghana it seems to be more the common voter getting involved for the cantidate of their community – wearing t-shirts advertising the candidate, spreading flyers around town, and doing all that is possible to 'drum up support' (pun intended).

One interesting tidbit to me is that even though Ghanaians are very involved in politics – they have a lot of fun supporting their party, and tend to be 'die hard' fans of candidates- they still constantly complain about how corrupt Ghana's government is and how little ever changes in the system. But it's only natural this will happen – people vote for the same political party and incumbent year after year.

It's almost reminiscent of the United States in that most people approve of the job their congressman is doing, but strongly disapprove of Congress.

Another interesting fact about Ghana's political party system is that people tend to vote along party lines based on the political party of the candidate and their location. For instance, the Volta and Western regions will always vote NDC, while the Asante regions will always vote NPP. While America has stronghold states for both Democrats and Republicans, in Ghana over half of the 10 regions will always vote a certain way. There's little or no point for the opposing candidate to even campaign in these locations.

Another issue is corruption. A Ghanaian friend of mine knows someone who voted over 15 times for the 2008 election, simply by bribing officials. This is the easiest way to have your way in many third world countries. For instance, if you are fined 125 cedis for doing something illegal, why pay in full when you can simply bribe the official with 50 or 75 cedis and be let off the hook?

Ghanaian political parties aalso llow donors to state 'what they want the party to do should they win', so it essentially becomes a bribe in itself. The following source says that after one voter made a small donation to a political party, a party official personally approached him and asked what he'd 'like in return'. When he responded, "Nothing," the officer was shocked and asked 'Why would you even bother donating?' (Source)

Anyways, that's Ghana for you. In my opinion, both Ghana and the United States could learn from each other. The United States could take lessons on how to make politics more accessible, leading the average citizen to become more involved in the future of their nation- while Ghana could improve on issues such as corruption. Neither country is perfect, but both are making efforts to improve.

[hr]

A final note – this was just a rally for nominating the incumbent candidate to office. I can only imagine what it'll be like in 2012;  it's a shame I won't be able to witness the actual election.

Edit – 12/06/11:
Looking back, I might have been a little harsh on Ghana. The fact remains that- while they have their difficulties- they are one of the only African democracies that consistently have violence-free elections, and are setting an example for others to follow. I believe they are on the right path, but true change needs to take place in many of their policies for further improvements.

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Ghanaian High School: A Typical School Day

Many of my previous blog posts have been about exceptional experiences, special events, and have mainly served to highlight the best times in my Ghanaian life.

This post simply chronicles a typical day at school. It’s nothing extraordinary, just a ‘day in the life.

5:30 a.m. – Wake-up

5:35 a.m. – Second wake-up alarm

5:40 a.m. – Actually wake-up

5:45 a.m. – Turn on water heater (I’m one of the lucky exchange students enjoying luxuriously hot showers).

5:50 a.m. – Brush my teeth and shower

6:00 a.m. – Eat a typical Ghanaian breakfast. This is composed of overwhelming soft white bread and either Lipton (tea), or Milo (a type of hot chocolate). Occasionally I supplement this with fresh fruit from the market – my favorite being bananas, pineapples, papayas, and mangoes.

6:30 a.m. – Leave the house to catch a trotro. This is usually instant, but on busy days it can take over twenty minutes.

The ‘Achimota’ trotro signal involves making a gun with your right hand and pointing it in the air over your shoulder. Because I’m white, the cars sometimes don’t stop for me because they aren’t sure if I mean to be signaling for them.

7:00 a.m. – Morning assembly for all students. There’s no separation between Church and State in Ghana – the assembly is essentially a massive prayer with sermons, hymns, and psalms. I’ve only been to two or three of them because I would have to leave the house by 5:45 to make it in time.

During one notable assembly, they preached to the students that they shouldn’t let teachers ‘take advantage’ of them, because when students get pregnant, they’ll be kicked out of school. There was no mentioning of repercussions for the teacher, but when I later asked students, they said they teacher would likely be sacked.

7:30 a.m. until 10:50 a.m. – Classes. School follows a rotating schedule, so every day of the week has different classes for different amounts of time.

Following are my thoughts on my classes and teachers:

1. Literature: When your class is taught by someone who goes by the nickname ‘Ringo,’ it has to be good. Ringo’s love of reading, teaching, and students shows clearly in every class. He’s the type of person who you just want to hug – intellectual, well-read, and always with a low buttoned collared shirt that clearly shows his ‘Austin Powers’ chest hair.

Here’s a few quotes by Ringo that I wrote down today:

  • On Reading – “When I read I enter into the spirit of the novel, and the spirit of the novel enters me.”
  • On Students – “I truly love you like you’re my children. When you don’t buy books and read for my class, I feel like dying.”
  • On Buying Books – “A book is like a pair of panties – you don’t share it with anyone, prefer new ones to old ones, and only borrow someone’s when yours have been stolen”

I love this class, and appreciate that half of the literature we study is British/American, while the other half is African. When Ringo teaches, you can truly tell he actually cares about the subject and his students – unlike many other teachers.

2. Government: Another great class – although for entirely different reason. Although I’m taking a history class, this is where I learn modern Ghanaian history. The teacher, Alex, goes into great detail of all aspects of Ghanaian politics. One ‘fun fact’ about politics in Ghana is that the region where a candidate comes from is the main factor in determining how successful his candidacy for office will be, and much about the many government coos and rebellions that led Ghana to its current state.

After these two, there is a steep drop in class enjoyment.

3. Agriculture: It’s nice learning how rural Ghanaians practice farming – especially since we read about all areas of it including farming, egg production, and raising/slaughtering animals, I just wish this class had a more practical ‘hands-on’ approach. Our school has an enormous campus – it could easily be put to use as some sort of farm.

Last week we drew/labeled the parts of a chicken. Here’s my masterpiece…

Every time someone made fun of my chicken, I responded, “It doesn’t matter how my chicken looks – all that matters is that it tastes delicious.”

4. Social Studies: All our class has done so far is talk about the pros of democracy (never the cons), and about Ghana’s current constitution. The teacher is nice, but with subjects like social studies, reading the book and memorizing the dictionary definitions for words such as ‘work’ and ‘relationships’ does nothing. It’s simply not practical.

One interesting fact I’ve learned in this class is that same gender relationships are forbidden/illegal in the constitution of Ghana. More on that later…

5. English: Ghana, being a formal colony of England, learns the British version of English. It’s an entirely unfamiliar concept for me – full of unique spellings (i.e. colour, faerie), and sometimes even entirely different sentence structures/grammar.

Due to me not understanding what a ‘noun clause’ is, I scored a 22/40 on the first monthly test.

6. Economics: Alwazi, the teacher, is a very nice and overall ‘cool’ guy. He can’t help the fact that I already have passed two college credit economics classes – rendering his class useless.

7. History: The teacher, who regularly points out that he wrote the textbook, has been teaching (aka reading the textbook out loud) the time period before 800 A.D. for the past 2 months. It’s complete overkill. The teacher has a characteristic monotone voice, and the only enjoyable part of the class is listening to him insult students – something he’s supposedly ‘famous for’.

8. Biology: Despite the fact that biology is taught by a chief who’s entirely full of himself, the class isn’t not too bad. It’s just very basic. So far we’ve covered food webs, food pyramid, ecological pyramids, and industrial pollutants.

9. Chemistry: Not only has this teacher never even said ‘Hello’ to me, but he looks right through me in the classroom – pretending I don’t exist. This is my class’s third year of high school chemistry; I never took it in the states.

Needless to say, it makes for an excellent time to catch-up on sleep.

Now back to the school schedule…

10:50 a.m. – Break-time. I usually snack on plantain chips or kettle corn, but many classmates buy food such as Fanta, Coke,  sausages, jollof rice, yam, and biscuits.

11:20 until 2:20: Classes. One or two teachers each day don’t show up and we get free time. Either the teachers are doing something else, are sick, or simply hate our class.

There’s no such things as ‘substitute teachers’ in Ghana.

2:20 – End of the day.

[hr]

I’m one of only two day students in my class – the rest are all boarding students. According to them, boarding is ‘Hell.’ It involves waking up at 4 a.m. to scrub, having no communication with the outside world, not being allowed to leave campus, and essentially doing most of the work around the campus (weeding with a machete, sweeping, etc) to prepare themselves for the ‘real world.’

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Tales from Inside A Soccer Mob

Hearts of Oak and Asante Kotoko are two  top-seeded soccer teams and bitter rivals in the Ghana Premiere League. Last Saturday, we decided to go to Accra Sports Stadium to watch them play.

Easier said than done. Since our group was composed of five AFS students and two Ghanaians, we had to take two taxis to the stadium. We thought we'd be able to easily spot each other once we arrived, but Accra Sports Stadium was a madhouse. As Seth (a Ghanaian) looked for the others, Drew (an American) and I started waiting on the very long ticket line.

By the time Seth returned, the line had moved up about 50 feet. The other Americans tried to join the line, only to be yelled at and ultimately not allowed in the line. They decided to each give their 5 cedis ($3) for tickets, and sat down elsewhere to relax.

At this point, I feel it important to mention that this was no ordinary line. We were constantly being pushed and nudged forwards,  and became lodged into the people in front of us. There was absolutely no room to move, and if you stepped out of the line for a second to catch your breath, you would have to fight your way back in.

It was uncomfortable from the get-go, but things quickly went from bad to worse. As we neared the front of the line, it turned into an almost standstill as we approached metal barricades put in-place to prevent the box office from being stampeded. Pressure from hundreds of people leaning forwards, forced us to stand at a 60 degree angle with our feet under the barricade to stay upright. Drew and I planted our feet, braced ourselves, and prepared for war.

It wasn't enough. Eventually the hundreds of bodies pushing forwards overwhelmed us, and the barricades started to tip over. I was genuinely worried about it falling over and being stampeded. This idea wasn't too far-fetched I later found out, in the year 2001, 127 people died as a result of a mass-stampede at a Hearts v. Kotoko match.

Luckily an army officer noticed the barricade tipping before disaster ensued. He remedied the situation by hitting people behind us with a leather belt to make them stop leaning on me. Several times the belt cracked less than 6 inches from my head. People nearby responded by trying to scurry backwards, but because those behind wouldn't move, they ended up in a strange, backbend position.

People attempted sneaking through the barricades left and right, but the army men caught most of them. Each person cutting the line or sneaking through the barricade was beaten repeatedly until they exited the line. One guy was even clipped by the belt buckle in his left eye, which he clutched as he ran away in agony.

When the officer eventually let us through the barricades, I breathed a massive sigh of relief. We were part of the select few, and the army was nearby  to protect us.

My view of the officers as 'saviors' quickly changed, as people started flooding the barricades. The officers took their guns, held them sideways like battering rams, and charged at the lines of cutters. Not only did they kick them at full-force in the knees, but they also pistol-whipped them and even pointed their guns to make people back away.

At this point, the match began. For an unknown reason (probably so they could watch the game), the army officers left their posts, and all the box offices except for one closed . With nobody to guard them, the fiery gates of Hell burst open as the 'moderately organized' line quickly dissolved into a mob of hundreds of impatient soccer fans wanting tickets immediately.

Seth quickly sprinted nearby to protect us. People mobbed us from every direction – yelling, screaming, and chanting "PUSH!" We were only 5 feet from the box office, but moving was not an option. Men yelled at me, saying I should lodge myself into a nearby corner to secure my position near the front of the line. I tried my hardest to follow this advice, but couldn't even move the 12 inches required to do so.

As everyone pushed towards the box office, I was being crushed. Oxygen was quickly escaping my lungs; I was gasping for survival. At one point my feet weren't even touching the ground. Despite Seth's arm wrapped around our shoulders to make sure we would be okay, I was petrified of being pushed to the ground and being trampled.

Drew spent 15 minutes in the lead without getting us any closer to the box office. In fact, one guy picked him up and placed him several feet further away. I pushed in front of Drew to try leading for myself. In a last-ditch effort, I metaphorically screamed, "THIS IS SPARTA"and pushed forwards with all my might. This was to no avail – somehow I ended up even further away from the box office. Emotionally let-down , I tiredly said to Drew, "I miss Ticketmaster!"

After 40 minutes of being inside the mob, I realized there was no chance of us ever getting tickets. Drew and I gradually pushed our way out of line – exhausted and smelling like someone else's body odor. We were drenched with sweat, and barely had enough energy to walk.

The Survivors...

After we made it back to the AFS office, we turned on the television to watch the game. We could clearly see hundreds of empty, unsold seats in the background – despite the fact that there was an angry mob just outside the stadium waiting to buy tickets.

All in all… my day was perfect. Call me crazy, but it was a true Ghanaian learning experience – something that couldn't be learned at school or bought from a market. I've read about similar events every so oftenin the news, but actually being inside of a soccer-crazed mob is a whole different story.

Group Photo left to right: Drew, Myself, Balthazar, Ahmed, Adriana, and Ida

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Note: As I reread this post, I can't help but feel that this type of experience is impossible to accurately communicate. It's the kind of thing where you have to 'be there for yourself' in order to understand fully. I did my best, but nothing can compare to being there in person.

Despite this being a valuable life experience, being inside of a mob is something I feel should be done only 'once in a lifetime.'