I.
The time on the road is the best part when traveling between Accra and Suhum most Friday evenings, as I do. They are full of cars trying to find their way home. Like me.
II.
The sun sets about this time and leaves the earth an orange dream – nothing is more magical. And yet it’s unknown to the sun, maybe, of what this break in the monotone darkness and light means; what this tinge of both worlds do for us.
III
Midway through the journey, it’s getting darker. The chatter of street hawkers fill the air, travels with the wind to your ears. You’re left wondering about their loud laughter – about what could feed a tongue so much it bursts into such joy. After this is the silent travel along settlements too tiny to be visible from the thick forests that shroud them. But soon, with most of these forests being predated by various industries for various reasons, I suspect you can see them; a family of five perhaps, with their small concrete house hoping tomorrow will bring better yield from the travelers their wares are made for. If it was morning, you’d have understood this better; you’d find by these forests that are lone and abandoned at night women, children and men with their wares.
IV
When I see the lights of the first homes bordering the town I grew up in and the last of the towns with names I’ve never mastered to name, I sigh. I’ve come home alive on this dreary night road I’m beginning to love.
PS. Sharing with you the draft of my first creative non-fiction work I submitted for a free IOWA University course I took part in. I hope you liked it.
©Awo Twumwaah 2019
Afua Awo Twumwa 