Bringing filth to the dining table
I regretted almost immediately I took the decision to use the stretch of road that links the congested market behind Cocoa House to the Graphic Road and beyond.
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I had just exited from the headquarters of the National Investment Bank (NIB) and threatened by the heavy vehicular and human traffic, I gambled that it would be better to use that short stretch that normally should not take more than five minutes. It was a terrible mistake.
In a matter of seconds, it was too late to reverse. It was one of those days when Accra was soaked in heavy rain. Behind me were vehicles of various sizes but mostly cargo trucks and a few passenger buses. My small car looked the odd one apparently because many private drivers had learnt long ago not to use that road which has been swallowed by traders.
What remains of the road has been torn into pieces by unimaginable sizes of potholes which, on this day, had turned to ponds or mini-lakes that were not friendly to any vehicle except, of course, the big trucks that played significant roles in their creation.
My discomfort and anguish notwithstanding, as I struggled through mud and ponds in heavy traffic, my eyes could not miss the market activity taking place in what looked more or less like a refuse dump.
Here were food items, including tomatoes, pepper, garden eggs, onions, yams, cassava, plantain and fish drenched in the rain. Some of the items that could not find space on tables were left on the bare muddy ground. Occasionally, some would fall into the choked gutters and quickly reclaimed by their owners. We all can guess what are in those gutters and, therefore, could appreciate the health hazards.
This market could be described as a wholesale centre where other traders from the suburbs come to do their selection to serve the needs of their clients in the various communities. In fact, some housewives from the more affluent homes prefer to make direct purchase at this place because of price difference.
It is, therefore a forgone conclusion that all the big men and women in the plush suburbs such as Cantonments, Roman Ridge, Labone, Airport Residential Area, McCarthy Hill and many other such places share with the rest of us, the filth of Railway Station, Agbogbloshie, Mallam Atta and all other markets.
I say this because the spectacle behind Cocoa House is not different from that at other markets in the nation's capital. Our markets look more like refuse dumps and not places that food items are sold.
It appears our city authorities have given up or seem to think that the problem is too remote for their consideration and action. After all, they seem to say, once the traders are enjoying their business, let it be.
The truth is that whenever they put a bowl of fufu and groundnut or palmnut soup on your dining table, whether you are a minister, a managing director, a pastor or ordinary citizens like us, remember the filth in the markets which shares common affinity with the food items we consume at home.
We may try to dodge the problem by consoling ourselves with the common saying that African stomachs don't fear germs. That is not true.
We need to take radical measures to improve conditions in our markets and not leave matters to chance.