Accra: Kaneshie Market

Accra This t-shirt says “I was there.” Or perhaps it says “someone I know was there.” Or perhaps it merely says “I wish I had been there.” It is the sartorial equivalent of name dropping.

I buy a hand-made shirt in Kaneshie Market, an investment in the tokenization of Ghanaian culture.

Chris asks me to buy a Bonnie Raitt t-shirt for him at the concert. He doesn’t care what it looks like, only that it must be white. He is looking for something to wear when playing squash and the club has an all-white rule for squash attire. There are white shirts at the merch table but the black ones are so much nicer. I buy a black t-shirt for Chris.

As a thank-you gift Juliana gives me a batakari, the traditional top from northern Ghana. Apparently there is a program encouraging Ghanaian men to wear batakaris on the first Friday of every month. This is the first Friday of November.

It is hot and humid and crowded. The smells of fresh produce mingle with body odour and open sewers. Animal parts of all descriptions lie on slabs of wood, bleeding into the dirt, covered with flies.