Accra: Traffic and Transport

Los Angeles, meet your new competition.

2009 marks the year in which for the first time in human history more people in the world will live in urban areas than rural. The metropolis of Accra lays witness to these growing pains. The increase in migrant population from the North and neighboring countries coupled with the middle class desire for more spacious, free standing homes has transformed Accra into a sprawling metropolis with horrendous traffic.

Because I commute into work (in Adabraka Official Town) from the suburb of Greda Estates, Teshie where I am living with a delightful Ghanaian family, understanding the ins and outs of Accra’s traffic is of the greatest importance to me. Though the distance can’t be much more than 15 kilometers, it takes up to two hours to travel between my house and my office at work. I’ve tried to best the traffic by leaving for work and leaving for home early, late, and at a reasonable hour to no avail. The first thing you learn about Accra’s traffic is that there is no rhyme or reason behind it. Perhaps part of the reason there is no rhythm to traffic is because of the system of transportation.

There is minimal public transport in Accra. A state run bus company runs routes connecting Accra with other metropolitan areas in Ghana. Aside from this, the road network is navigated by private car, taxi, and tro-tro. Tro-tros are retrofitted minivans, ambulances, and small coaches likely bought as used vehicles from other countries and re-constructed to hold as many passengers as physically possible. An ambulance sized van will hold 25 people, and a small coach, like the one I rode in today (see picture below), will hold close to 50. Guide books all warn against taking tro-tros because of their safety record, and after just one look at them (especially from the inside), you know your life is in the drivers hands. The thing is, however, there is no alternative to the tro-tro for most Ghanaians.

The ride across town on a tro-tro costs a matter of pesewas (cents) compared to 10 cedis (dollars) in a taxi cab. As further reference, a ride across town in a tro-tro costs the equivalent of a large, filling meal purchased on the street while a taxi ride is the equivalent of dinner at a nice, western restaurant.

In addition to their inexpensive price, tro-tros also have the ability to go off road to avoid traffic. While there is a direct, paved road between my subdivision and my office, congestion on this road is horrendous in mornings and in the evenings. While taxi cabs and private cars must wait in the traffic on the paved road, tro-tros get creative and head off on unpaved, bumpy roads trying to both avoid traffic and pick up more passengers. They are always successful at picking up more passengers, but not always so lucky at avoiding traffic. On these back roads the puddles from the rainy season can be at least a foot deep (I’ve seen a car trying to pass a particularly deep puddle get stuck and flood its engine through as a consequence). Each tro-tro ride is a completely different experience which depends greatly on the skill of the driver, the size of the car, and the amount of rainfall the night before.

My commute to work involves: a shared taxi to the main road, a tro-tro into the city and a second tro-tro to the part of the city in which I work. Not only is there no discernable pattern to traffic, but tro-tros leave when they are full and arrive at their final destination sometime later. When travelling in Ghana you always have to allocate more time than you hope to reach your destination. In addition to the lack of schedule, because so much of Accra is unmapped and streets are unnamed, there are no marked tro-tro routes. You must known the general area into which you are heading in order to tell the driver (tro-tro and taxi alike) where to stop. Eventually you learn the routes you can rely on and the names of the landmarks near where you need the tro-tro or taxi to stop, but when you are first learning the lay of the land, it is an utterly overwhelming experience.

I think there is a market to be made somewhere if an enterprising couple were to operate a slightly more expensive tro-tro with a fixed departure time and a non-stop route into the city. I would pay for that. Gladly.

In the mean time, I view my commute as an exercise in patience and a meditation on relaxing my Western, goal-driven mindset. Sometimes I get so frustrated while hot and sweaty and crammed in an unsafe vehicle with 24 other hot, sweaty bodies watching other traffic cut us off and watching women carrying heavy loads pass us on foot. Sometimes I just want to scream, stop the bus, make all the people in front of me disembark in order that I may continue on foot, arriving at work no quicker, but on my own schedule. Then I take a deep breath, remember that I am in Africa, and

return to my lesson in patience and in Africa time.

(Sam, in the last photo, is practicing her patience on a tro-tro trip home that capped off a 2 hour commute. This was the biggest tro-tro we've been on yet.)