6 Shia: Realising Why I was Here in Shia!

Knowledge is so quiet in the background, helping out and running errands whenever Doris bellow “Noli, Noli” that I forget that I haven’t given him a gift.

He is an Accounting student so I give him a calculator, which I brought with me. Perfect!

This Friday morning we are on a mission. With Justus, immaculate in his business suit at the wheel of his sturdy emerald green Toyota Fortuna Four Wheel Drive, we cruise along the wide, freshly made roads through lush vegetation and roadside stalls with ladies in colourful dresses carrying lofty loads with babies tightly wrapped on their backs, little feet sticking out around their hips.

We are off to Ho, Anna and Doris with little Emmanuela to shop for groceries and the excited boys and me in pursuit of the elusive football boots. 

It is not simple. Thankfully Justus accompanies the boys and me to the first store but we strike out. The next store’s football boots are too big. We try another fancy store with a vast array of every style of shoe you can imagine but no football boots. We drive to find a storekeeper friend of Justus and he directs us to a sports store. There is just one pair, which is too small.

The boys’ expectant faces are dropping into gloom and there is no alternative. We have to brave the chaos of the frantic market stalls. Justus bows out and wishes me luck! We spot some shoes but no boots!

But the polite teenager offers to lead us through the back alleys. We find a tangled pile of football boots on the ground in an obscure corner. Eureka! A pair fit Felix! But there are none that fit Clintion. Abject disappointment. Clinton is crushed. I know we MUST find him a pair or the two friends will suffer chronic lop-sidedness.

Our impromptu teenager guide leads us to another stall where, hallelujah, a pair of football boots fit Clinton and he is beaming a smile, which lights up the marketplace!

I offer to give our young guide a cedi for helping us but he refuses to take it. I’ve spent 16 cedis on Felix’s boots and 15 cedis on Clinton but I’m not done. Clinton is on a roll and he’s lobbying hard for jerseys.

We find an enterprising guy with a stack of vivid jerseys on his head and an arm full of matching shorts. The boys deliberate and carefully choose their favourite team colours. Clinton goes for red for Milan and Felix opts for blue for Barcelona! They grab some matching shorts and I haggle our man down to 15 cedis for the lot!

Clinton is not done. Now they need socks! I’m being led through the crowds to a sock and underwear stall! Done deal at five cedis for both pairs. My wallet is completely empty and Clinton is downcast because the final piece of kit is of course a ball. I show him my cashless wallet, turn it upside down and shake it! We must find the others and head for home. Traipsing through the markets has been harrowing and I’m ready to collapse but we push on to find Anna and Doris.

Miraculously we spot Anna but Doris vanishes into the jostling throng. Anna is worn-out too and sets off to catch a tro-tro to Accra to meet more MAD volunteers so the boys and I launch a futile search for Doris amid a profusion of baskets of dried fish, colourful vegetables, beans and spices, live chickens and mysterious foodstuffs that defy description.

The sights and sounds are intoxicating, I’m floating and my senses are soaring. I suddenly realise I’m not taking photos and my snap-happy husband would disapprove of such a wasted opportunity. I whip out my camera and hold it at my side discreetly and click away as we mingle with the multitudes, without making it obvious I’m taking photos as the Ghanaians dislike random, unposed shots.

Of course there is no way we can find Doris so I lead the boys to the main road to call Justus to collect us in the car. We stand under a prominent sign for what seems like eternity in the blazing sun but Justus is waiting somewhere else for Doris. Eventually Clinton spots his mama cheerfully browsing and we make a bee-line and follow Doris to the sanctuary of the big green 4WD! What a crazy ordeal!

Puffy faced and sunburnt, I doze all the way back to Shia where I share a beer on the verandah with Justus and Gabi and take pleasure in furtively watching a bare-chested, well-built young man wash the car! It’s an exquisite vision of male beauty fit for a pin-up poster! 

Tomorrow in Accra I will buy the football and ensure that Clinton’s kit is complete. Maybe this plucky little hustler will become a star striker! I will also buy Emmanuela some school sandals, a top and shorts because, like little sisters everywhere, she has sussed out that her big brother has scored a new outfit and naturally doesn’t want to miss out! I’ll send the goodies back with Anna and Gabi as I will be heading in a new direction.

This is my last night at Justus’ tranquil home in Shia. It feels like I’ve been here a month, not just six days, and I’ve absorbed a veritable feast of delightful culture, hospitality and warmth.

I now know that the purpose of my stay is much more than bestowing a few gifts. The bigger goals are to find plumbers who will come to this remote community and fix the schools’ toilet blocks and teach the students their trade.

The second major goal is to find a foreign investor for Justus’s visionary cocoa factory that will transform the entire community and allow the humble cocoa farmers and their beautiful families here to prosper and thrive. That is why I was here.