Here in Ghana,I honestly don’t know any one who hasn’t sat in a trotro before. hehe.
Maybe you can hit me up if you’re one of the few who’ve not,for a free ride. Knamean?
So I decided to write this as I ride in the good old Trotro.
I am returning from my usual Saturday market hustle for stuff.And it is going to be a pretty long ride home in the Rickety Trotro which is but pieces of metal bound together as one accord and an amazing Roadworthy Sticker to prove its strength!(well,thats another story for another Harmattan day).
So as I sat in the Trotro sipping my Fanyogo,a woman entered with a child on her back and another in hand,(I’ve always been pretty awed at how some women handle that).
Now this is the whole reason behind this long read,as she sat trying to balance the baby behind and her other little girl her lap,a young woman by her, offered to carry the little girl to shed some load of her,and the eyes of the little girl looked longingly at the kind lady as though to thank her.
And this made me reminisce wayyy back when I was younger.The days of riding to school were over,and I had to face the hustle of sitting in a ‘troskie’ with Mama to school,her workplace or to the market or a place of such sorts,and trust me,I actually looked forward to it you know?everyone was kind in a trotro! hehehehe.
One of my fondest memories was to enter an almost empty Trotro,this gave me the chance to rest my little bum on the seat and feel like a boss! 😛 .I cared less about the world,and i was so happy that I got to get off the soft and fleshy thighs of my mum to seat ON MY VERY OWN PART OF THE TROTRO SEAT!AHJEI!to me?heaven was just a ring away.
I remember how I’d sometimes defiantly refuse to sit on Mama’s laps when I had some little money from Pops.Charlie,i got to ‘buy’ my seat and sit comfortably.then the horror came when a Fanpop or Fresher vendor passed by,and I’d ask for some coins to get some.She’d silently stare and say amidst laughter,’k3ji ota enor kw3,bo dientse ok3 oshika baa he'(if you had sat on me,you could have bought it with your own money).Streams of tears unshed would instantly just well up in my eyes.To me,that was savagery at its best.
The Trotro vibes were one of my early childhood memories I’d forever cherish,from the kind women who made me sit on their laps,and the young men who didn’t bother about sugar sickness and bought me all the toffees when I cried,to the good old Trotro mates who sometimes made me feel like a big girl when they told Mama i was big enough to sit and those who over talked and made me cry.
And Oh,to all the other kids i met in the Trotro,some who we only communicated by staring at each other,others by nodding and most by the power factor,CRYING.
I say medase,you made the journey lighter!Merhn.
I didn’t even realize I’d reached the end of my journey,id just end here.Do well to share yours too people.
And for those wondering what trotro is-its a public bus system in Ghana.And the anglicized form of the word is Troskie.And the awesome foreign tongue is Ga,one of the many Ghanaian languages.
(Good things cometh,wait for it)