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15.05.2018 Opinion

A Journey Through The Potholes

By Rahman T.Y Rasheed
A Journey Through The Potholes
15.05.2018 LISTEN

I arrived at Walewale, the capital of the west Mamprusi District Assembly from Accra at exactly 35minutes past four o'clock dawn (4:35am). I stepped out of the VVIP bus looking so tired and frustrated, thinking that i could see any of my former class/school mates by chance. However, in about ten (10) minutes my eyes could not offered me a good help, so i didn't see any of my few friends back at school. I then headed to the nearby mosque to offer prayers and thanks to the almighty Allah for guiding and protecting me throughout my journey from Accra to Walewale and to as well seek/ask for further guidance and protection in my journey from Walewale to my sweet home (kubori) in the Mamprugu Moaduri District.

One thing that came into my mind so strongly whiles in prayers was the bad state of the road from Walewale to kubori. Considering the journey from Accra to Walewale, those familiar with this long journey will generally agreed that, i covered roughly over seventy(70%) percent of the journey from Accra to kubori. But in fact, this wasn't the case at all. The journey only appeared to be seventy percent (70%) complete, but the reality however was that, the bad state of the road made my journey more tedious, time consuming, perilous and frustrating.

As for the type and the condition of the car i boarded, i leave that for future discussions.

I set off as at 6:30am to join the Mankarigu market lorry together with the traders and other casual passengers like myself. The yellow KIA truck was fully loaded with all sorts of goods, leaving the tail end of the truck for passengers to sit. Knowing the bad state of the road, i held firmly to a across metallic bar of the car with my heart beeping perpetually as the car moves on in the journey. The lorry jumps from one pothole to the other and from one trench to the other as we continue the journey.

In some highly deteriorated sections of the road, one could hear the passengers chanting and praying to their God(s) whiles hooked on firmly to the metallic bars or any part of the car they could lay their hands on. The name of the almighty Allah could be heard loudly and clearly many times without numer and the sound from the various parts of the lorry could be heard loud and clear as we moves on. The lorry consistently balanced from one side of the road to the other, putting fear panic on us on board.

We continued the journey in a similar pattern till we finally arrived at the kubori market square amidst noise from the market.

The journey that could have took us 2 to 3 hours have spent roughly 6 hours, if not more. I stepped out of the lorry with 'brownish' hair and headed towards my house as i could now afford a smile for myself. With my weak body and frustrated face, i walked gently to the house and could hear loudly, some sound emanating from my body joints accompanied by a severe pain.

In the evening, i couldn't have a sleep, not even a painkiller could afford me a minute of sleep. Sleeping was far from me as the the planet jupiter is to the pluto.

I was helpless on my bed as i rolled from one side of the bed to the other end of it with so many questions on my mind without answers. Then i ask myself : What have we the people of kubori done wrong?, Are we really part of this country call Ghana?, how long do we have to continue complaining and asking for help?, Do we have to continue queuing under the sun to vote, just because the constitution of Ghana says is our right? And more importantly do we need to continue fulfilling our civic responsibilities to elect, when the elected are not willing to fulfill their part of the responsibilities?.

The questions keeps coming, but the answers are no where to be found. Well, prosperity is the best judge and time would definitely tell. May Allah bless our mother land Ghana.

By Rahman T.Y Rasheed. Visit my blog@ r asheedgoorahblog.wordpress.com

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