Mornings

As I was riding in a taxi at about 5:45am to meet someone, the sights and sounds of the Ghanaian morning greeted me. Mornings are so different here. For one they are always full and abrupt, like most things. Being so close to the equator, a person here does not enjoy the long drawn out sunrises and sunsets of the northern continents, but a more extreme change. One minute it is the dark of night, and within 15 minutes it is the light of day. Now the sun at this time is the not the intense sun of the African afternoon, but still as bright as most places in Michigan at about 11:00 in the morning in summer.

Everything starts in this short span of time that is called dawn. Every morning it starts at the same time: from 6:00 to 6:15. One moment the place is quiet and empty, and then all at once the world awakes. The sounds of roosters are heard (yes, even in the city), and soon to follow is the inevitable sounds of sweeping.

In front of each compound, house, and store are ladies. Some not much older then mere girls, others elderly stooped with age; but all are working at the same task: sweeping. This is considered one of the most important tasks of domestic live. No self-respecting Ghanaian women can leave it undone. Whether hard packed dirt, concrete slab, or grass, each living area must be swept and clean. Ever last wrapper, bag, fallen leave, and piece of litter must be removed.

As a passer by sees them they are each stooped over, bent as if the hips where a hinge (in a way that only an African can). They use a small broom, made with dried broom grass steams. The air is filled with sounds: scraping and scratching, much like a plastic rake in leaves. Each lady is covered in her wrapper. This is a bolt width piece of cloth, about two meters in length that is wrapped around the body and precariously tied under the arm pit. Each lady greets the passers by with her morning greetings. These polite comments are passed through teeth busily chewing on chew sticks.


As the ladies prepare the compounds, the men prepare for work. Most people do not live with indoor plumbing. This fact has produced some interesting morning rituals. The men grab their things and make there morning trek to the water hole, a.k.a. bath houses. Each community has them and each man wants to be first in line. This conjures up memories of summer camp. Woe to the camper that sleeps in late, and is at the back of the line. Baba one of our converts from our last church told me, that most morning he would be up and at the showers by five in the morning, if he did not want to be in line for over an hour.

Each man is armed with his bucket of water, soap, towel, and washcloth. (Now, when I say washcloth, do not get in mind a nice soft American version, with cotton fibers, but rather an African ‘loofah’ of sorts. It is a three foot long piece of plastic mess that is very useful for rubbing and scouring off all dirt. I beg no soft skinned broni to dare to attempt the use of this brush, which would probably remove the first two layers of his skin).

After washing the body and cleaning the compound comes the teeth brushing. One might ask what this has to do with community life, but that person does not know Africa. The rooms are small, and the gutter is outside, so why not brush the teeth outside


As I passed by I was greeted by many faces covered in white tooth paste foam. Each person is in a different state of readiness for the day. But each one is holding a plastic cup with water and his tooth brush. Ever conceivable part of the teeth are scrubbed and re-scrubbed. I can imagine seeing the dentist standing by with a great big smile as he watches these people perform their daily oral duty with more attention to detail then he pays to his own teeth. Then they scrub the tongue. I am still not sure why this is so important, but I have failed to see a person neglect this part of the job. Soon the work is done and all that remains is the white tooth paste foam. Most African are so absorbed in their task that by the time the finish they have a ring of white paste around there mouth, much reminiscent of a rabid dog. After a few rinses of the mouth and removing the foam, the smile is ready for the day.

After using the water in the house it is time to refill the reservoir. Each of the poorer communities has a well, pump, or water source of some kind. In Kumasi, most people that do have wells sell their water. The tap is set up so that a long plastic pipe is arranged much like a shower, but with out the shower head. Each person is then able to fill their bucket while it is still on their head. The person manning the well takes the money and fills the container to the brim.

Soon the sides of the roadways are filled with people walking home with their water bowls. Though the water is less then an inch from the brim and though it is being carried on the head, very little of the two to five gallons of water is spilled. It is amazing to watch the parade of people. They are in some kind of dance, the movements ever so slight. The neck and hips seem to roll in this now unconscious effort to keep the water pails straight.

Finally the house work is done and its time to eat. It is about 6:30 in the morning. The men and women are heading off to work sights and markets. Dotted up and down each road are food sellers, each seller calling out her special call to passers by. There is the tea seller, ready prepared with her sugar and cream. Many old men sit around talking as they eat the fresh hot bread that they enjoy with their tea. Then there are the porridge sellers. They sit in their spots with large aluminum pots. These kettles drum size pots are steaming with their warm contents. Each pot is filled with rice or corn porridge and covered with clean plastic sheets to keep the heat in. Next to her sits her frying pan filled with hot oil, cooking over a charcoal cooking stand. Her daughter or sister is busily cooking the kussa. (This is a donut type confection made from bean flour). Most people wait patiently in line as their stomach rubbles.

Everywhere people are going about their way. Greeting and chatting. ‘Good mornings’ and ‘how are yous’ are on everyone’s lips. Bags of warm porridge are in many hands. The news from the night before is being relayed, and by 7:30 the store keepers are opening their gates, and people are heading to the junctions and taxi stations to start the day.