LIFE IN CHERIBAA

The taxi ride from The Berekum Station to the Cheribaa district was uncomfortable. But it took me a few days to find out exactly why. The road was poorly constructed, strewn with stones, rocks, and full of many trenches and man holes. When I actually walked along that same thoroughfare during daylight. I wondered how any driver was able to negotiate such a precipitous and treacherous lane in the black darkness of night. Especially since there were no street lights. The driver travelled there routinely, accordingly, this journey presented him with no challenges. My new acquaintances wouldn’t permit me to lift a finger, to help them remove my luggage from the trunk of the vehicle. But there was absolutely no objection from anyone when I reached into my pocket to pay the taxi fare. I saw one large building situated on a quarter acre of land. When we got out of the taxi we had to walk a short distance to leave the road and get onto the property. As I followed my newly found friends into the open yard, it gradually dawned upon me. That this building consisted of several individual rooms, inhabited by a multiplicity of tenants. Thus, my arrival at my female friend’s residence was a massive let down. She didn’t live in a mansion after all. She was a pauper and not a princess. She feverishly guided me into her single room. It seemed spacious. The floor was covered with linoleum. There was one bed, a small wardrobe, two inexpensive verandah chairs, a television, a cabinet in which she stored her beautiful pots and china wares, a poorly functioning refrigerator, a fan, and a propane stove. I played the hypocrite, camouflaged my disappointment that she had told me a pack of lies and proclaimed, “Wonderful, this is very nice.” The fact that there was no bathroom did nothing to improve my mood. I eventually retired to bed. My female friend bid me a good night, left my room, descended from the concrete verandah, crossed the spacious yard and disappeared into another room on the opposite side. Her two so called brothers had to travel a little farther to get to their place of abode. The following day my female friend, and from now on I will call her Edith, was up by 5:00 A.M. She swept the yard. A chore that all the women on the property took turns to complete. Then she cleaned my room. Thereafter, she prepared me breakfast. Before breakfast I took a well needed bath, which was arranged by Edith. There was a small, concrete, one room, roofless, four walled building about thirty feet from my room. I was told by Edith to take the bucket of water she handed me and proceed there to bathe. I quietly did as I was told. After my bath she fed me with egg sandwiches. Which was all washed down with my favorite beverage, ginger tea. Soon it was time for me to go to the rest room. I took a roll of paper tissue and was pointed in the direction of the three out houses on the property. The first one that I saw looked like a complete wreck. There were lizards running all over the place, so I felt that it was best for me to pass it. The second one was a solid concrete building, but there was fecal matter scattered all over the floor, so I avoided it. The last one was on the very opposite side of the property. It was a spacious, wooden structure with a decent roof. I went inside and discovered that there were two open holes on the floor. There were also lizards on the walls. Having lived previously in the United Kingdom, and also in the West Indies. I was not unaccustomed to pit latrines. In England and Jamaica such out houses are well organized. You simply cant see into the pit, unless you want to. It is concealed by a box like enclosure. Which affords the occupant a comfortable seat and a hygienic lid covering. Not so in West Africa. Out houses here are a disaster. The very best I can observe is that there is a concrete slab over the pit. Within that slab there are usually one or two uncovered holes, depending on the size of the enclosure. Each hole is approximately twelve, to eighteen inches squared. The very best the occupant can do is that once he is ready, he positions himself, aims and fires. The unbearable stench, large swarms of flies in the holes, and crawling reptiles on the walls, were enough to drive me out of that room within a few minutes. After my exit the door swung shut behind me, and as I approached the house where Edith’s two purported brothers lived, three beautiful young ladies encircled me and demanded my roll of paper tissue. I surrendered it. Because I understood that since they were poor they were forced to use newspaper whenever they visited the out house. When I got back to where my room was located, Ms. Edith was dutifully waiting on me with soap and water to wash my hands. (TO BE CONTINUED).