The Kayayei’s Tale

By -
Head porters (popularly called 'kayayei' in Ghana)
Photo credit: NewsGhana

I walk my beat in many cities and markets
Up and down in the perspiring sun
From Tamale to Kumasi Kejetia
Techiman to Takoradi market circle
The mighty Accra is my home base
Whether it is Nima, or Mallam Atta,
Agbogbloshie or Makola, I am there.
Down I come with my head pan in hand.
To tread the markets and lorry parks.
From six to six each day, rain or shine.
I carry my wares; other people’s loads
Who strut daintily behind me
Watching intently, anxiously
Whilst I shout and nudge my way in the crowd,
Lest I should be lost with their goods.
Yet when I finally arrive, these opportunists,
These women, mothers, genteel ladies and lazy men
Even they, begrudge me my wage.

Read: Village Boy Impressions - Unsung Heroines

Tired kayayei find rest under a big truck.

Read: Village Boy Impressions - Election Mangana

Foxes have holes and birds have nests
But I, a daughter and a mother have none.
I make my bed in lidless shacks and verandas
Where I chase elusive sleep on weary pillows
I am the prey of mosquitoes
And all blood-sucking creatures.
Unscrupulous men lurk about me
To plunder both my purse and womanhood
And make of me a penniless mother
To carry a double load thereafter
And shout and shove through the same crowds.


Shop-owners scowl at me, drivers curse me
Shoppers call me scornful names
Unless they’re after my wares; my head,
To carry loads they’re too decent to carry.
I am paraded with my head pan at rallies
As if I am not me without it or perhaps
To show the politician that I have no job.
How can you possibly know?
You the scowler, the curser, the labeler
You the gentleman, the lady, the man, the woman,
You the politician, the executive, the big man,
I would have you know,
That I am not, I become! 


Accra
1/05/2018

Kayayei at a political rally in Accra, Ghana.
Photo credit: Graphic online
Read: Village Boy Impressions - A Tribute to Hunger




Comments

  1. Kombian Somtuaka1:07 pm, May 16, 2018

    The depth, the descriptive accuracy, the emotionally sympathetic tone, all point to the sorry and sometimes gory ordeals of our sisters, but worst, it reveals our society which is increasingly becoming cold hearted, sadistic, and an irrational lot who prey on them because we have failed to provide social protection to them.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Unknown12:00 pm, March 08, 2022

    Great piece!! The description is as though u ever experienced wat they go tru. Nice

    ReplyDelete
  3. Tina12:35 pm, March 08, 2022

    Hmm really touching, the head porters really goes through a lot

    ReplyDelete
  4. Ghanatta Ayaric12:37 pm, March 08, 2022

    I admire Agandin's ability to make the reader see vivid images (almost physical) in his words.
    His poetry speaks to me in every way.

    ReplyDelete
  5. Amakai Quaye2:17 pm, March 08, 2022

    Great piece. Every aspect of their trade and ordeals well captured and eloquently presented.

    ReplyDelete
  6. Su8:55 am, March 09, 2022

    Sad but it is an impeccable truth

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Recent Posts

A Lively-Minded Journey Pt. 1

By -
Image
It was my first visit to the Nkwanta North district and it began like any other day. My mission: to support other members of the Lively Minds Technical Team to set up the GES Lively Minds Programme in the district. We were at the stage of Training of Mothers popularly called ToM. At 7am, we left the hotel and drove into the town to get breakfast. When the cars stopped, one of my colleagues walked over to our car and informed us that those in the first car were going to eat fufu but he wanted porridge. Fufu at 7:00am? I asked. Interesting. "But there is also waakye and ‘raster’ porridge," he added. I told him I had taken a cup of coffee and I had an apple in my handbag. The driver burst out laughing. “Hahaha!! We’re talking of food and you say you have an apple?” We all laughed. Everyone eventually bought some food and the fufu team returned to report that it wasn’t ready. So we drove to the education office to meet the district team (DT) and begin the day's work.  I me
Read more

Halting Words for the 'Early' Jacob Adongo Atambilla

By -
Image
When evenings in Sandema were dark, His footsteps on the road were heard, On journeys long with his Bible in hand, In Faith and works he showed the way. From Kori number 1 to number 2 both, From nearby Kobdema to far-off Kalijiisa, Across streams to Nyaansa and hills to Suwarinsa, A weary pilgrim on many treacherous roads. With girls and boys, men and women, With Roman Catholics and protestant folk, With those of faith and those without it, All their sorrows and joys he shared. A gentle voice, a helping hand, Knees that bleed from kneeling in prayer, A soft cackling laugh, with seamless teeth, The perfect listener, with limitless patience. Long upon an empty stomach he went, And defied both the devil and his lieutenants, His Bible and faith were his only staff, Upon them, he leaned and hoped and prayed.             Read:  Village Boy Impressions - Fathers Hail the man Jacob Adongo Atambilla, The son of Atambilla of Bongo Gorogo, Who today
Read more

Buli Series 8 - Money in Buli

By -
Image
Many Bulsa seem to think that when we ask the question, "How do we say this or that in Buli?", it means they have to think back to some deep and incomprehensible Buli to say what it is. Others also believe that "pure" Buli is old-fashioned words or expressions used in a time different from ours. Neither of these ways of thinking is right. The essence of language is communication and in my opinion, language is what it is at any point in time. It can be likened to a living organism and it develops overtime by making new words and phrases, borrowing others, giving new meanings to old words among other strategies. A friend of mine in good humour, once remarked that "if we take away the French, Greek and Latin words from the English Language, it will become German!".  One of the topics that often trouble many Buli speakers is in relation to counting money or mentioning monetary figures. We therefore, continue our  lesson in numerals today by learning about mone
Read more

What is in a greeting?

By -
There was an old man in my village who didn’t like to be greeted “Saliu’wa?” (Good morning?), or for that matter good afternoon, or good evening. He preferred to be greeted in the traditional exchange which entail a recital of enquiries about a person’s health, and that of their spouse, children, siblings, parents, other relatives and even neighbours. As children, we took delight in arousing his anger by shouting “saliu’wa!” at him from a distance before we took to our heels and run for dear life.
Read more