THE IRON GATE, THE BOLTS AND THE PADLOCK

I have a brand-new neighbor now. She has been residing at this address for the last seven months. From the very commencement of her tenancy here, she seemed to be operating under a great deal of financial pressure. For example, she pleaded with me to get the proprietress to reduce the rent. A suggested responsibility that I never embraced. I also noticed that her apartment was sparsely furnished. All of these signs were paradoxical. Since she owns a motorcycle, she also boasted that her boyfriend was the owner of several Okadas that transported passengers all over Berekum. When she first moved to this address, the Bono Region was experiencing the usual challenges of a prolonged annual dry season. The days were humid and extremely hot; there was no rain, and the dry, dusty roads were covered in a thick layer of dirt. Although the city’s water supply was turned off, I had a large Polytank, elevated 12 feet above ground level, to increase the water pressure as it descended. I periodically summoned a water truck to fill this mini reservoir as needed.

This polytank was connected exclusively to my apartment. Accordingly, whenever my new neighbor needed water, she would come to me to relieve her difficulty. A courtesy I routinely extended to her was opening the metal gate, which facilitated entrance to my back porch. Allowing her access to the water pipe located there. I continued to do so until the city water supply was restored. At that time, water flowed directly into her apartment and also into my polytank. For reasons best known to the Berekum Water Commission, they discontinued all paper bills. Choosing to send them electronically instead. As circumstances and events would have it, the person whose telephone number they had on record lives abroad. Therefore, we were not notified of the monthly water bill and remained ignorant of the accrued expense until the water supply was disconnected. Since my polytank was full, I was unaware of the interrupted water supply until my neighbor started to complain that she wasn’t getting any water and suggested to me that the water had been disconnected by the Berekum Water Commission.

I visited the local office of the water board, which is approximately located on the opposite side of the road from the Seventh-day Adventist Church. On the Berekum Sunyani Highway. It was a very hot day, and the fan overhead was spinning furiously to afford some relief to the many patrons gathered in that small room. Some were seated, while others stood. When I finally reached the cashier’s window, I presented her with a copy of the last bill I had received over six months ago. She brought up the account on her desktop and then informed me that the water had been disconnected due to non-payment of the outstanding bill. I advised her that although we had regularly received a monthly paper bill, all such notifications had ceased about six months ago. She informed me that all paper billing had been discontinued. I was directed to a nearby office to sort everything out. When I went next door, they were unable to provide me with a printout due to the slow network, but advised me that the outstanding balance was 400.00 GHS. The following day, I returned to the water commission, paid the full balance along with the reconnection fee, and chartered a taxi. The technician who accompanied me in the cab reconnected my water supply and returned to the office.

The following morning, I presented the full bill and receipt to my new neighbor and then said to her, “How long will I have to wait before you refund me your portion of this bill?” Her response was, “Not very long at all.” I never raised the subject with her again, and she said absolutely nothing to me about that water bill. Then one day in September, she said to me, “Mr. James, can you open the back gate for me, so that I can come over and fetch some water because the water has been turned off .” My response was, “I don’t think I can help you.” She remained silent. Maybe she fully understood that my response was justifiable. Perhaps she resented the fact that I was no longer interested in extending a neighbourly kindness that I had promptly provided in the past, without a second thought. However, I had discovered through painful experience that some unscrupulous individuals in Ghana will definitely exploit you and take advantage of your generosity unless you take precautions to protect yourself.

Most days, when the weather permits, I leave my domicile at around 3:45 A.M. for a brisk walk. I usually go early because, at that time of day, the road is desolate, and I don’t have to pass or speak to any other pedestrians. Nevertheless, by the time I arrive on the Berekum Sunyani highway, there are invariably raging fires already lit and busy cooking some morning delicacies to be sold to passers by. The most recent occasion was a Monday. For some strange reason, as I looked at the light blue wall of my bedroom in which the door was located, I saw several bunches of bright black grapes. There were no pictures or paintings of grapes anywhere in my bedroom, so I knew that this was an omen. But what was the meaning of this warning? I didn’t have to wait too long to find out. I went through my bedroom door, exited the glass door that led from the passageway separating the kitchen from the dining room, walked across the back porch, and went through the iron gates after unlocking them. I proceeded towards the main entrance, where the gate was located, but upon my arrival there, I discovered that it was securely locked. The only person on the property who could have engineered such a significant inconvenience to me was my relatively new neighbor.

(TO BE CONTINUED)