the.rebel.rapper.raps

I'm sure you guys thought I was kidding when I said I was gonna drop my number one hit single titled, "My #1 Hit Single". Well, there you have it. In stereo. The latest and most anticipated hit track. I'm so excited about it, you guys have no idea! This track is on every known deejay's rotation! You better listen and tell your friends to tell their friends about it. This is the next big thing to hit the Ghana music scene. Play it in your cars, on your computers, walkmans, iPads, iPods, iPhones, Blackberry, whatever man!!! Just be sure to pump up the volume.

http://soundcloud.com/rebelryter/my-1-hit-single-yeah-man

There's no doubt in my mind that you've enjoyed this piece of art immensely. It took no more than an hour to put this together, thanks to my able producer, Paapa (Skillions). The greatest producer ever known to man!

If you see me on the streets, don't be shy to say hi. I'm a humble super star :-P.

I love y'all.

Peace.

the.rebel.rapper.reloaded.

In view of the latest trend in hiphop and hiplife and all that, as of today, I have decided to revive my rapping career. Yes, yes, yes, many of you don't know that I used to be a rapper. Back in the day my stage name was wyzerymez and boy did I kill it. I was one of the best female rappers in my town. For real, for real, I was a damn good lyricist. I still am. Now it seems anyone who can hold a microphone by the neck calls themselves rappers. I'm here to change all that.

Now I am reinventing and relaunching my career as a rapper. My stage name shall be the rebel rapper. One that will rebel against all other forms of music in Ghana. Genre of music, rebel-life...or reb-life? Better still Hop-life music. Yea, that sounds right. Hop-life music it is. Introducing the Originator, the Grandmama, the Founder and CEO of Hop-life music....Yeah mehn. While y'all are fighting over who started hip-life and all that, Imma just start my own.

[caption id="" align="aligncenter" width="480" caption="All I Need Is One Mic"][/caption]

Be warned, I shall soon quit my day time job and start this 'rapperdelic'  lifestyle real soon that will ensure that I become famous in a matter of days, appear on Music Music and it's cousin Sounds Splash, get signed by some telecom giant in Ghana and start my own Facebook Fan Page. I knew it was only a matter of time before my talent was recognized and now, my dear people, is the time!!!

This means a total wardrobe change, change in walk and of talk.  In fact looking back, I should have quit school way back when I discovered this talent. If I'd quit school and stayed in the studio where all rappers live, I'd be one of the largest illest rappers in the game by now. But its never too late. In the 90's we didn't have MTV Base or any of those things to promote Ghanaian artists such as myself. But now there's Facebook, Twitter, Youtube and so many more. That's the reason why I believe that this is the right time to relaunch my career. In this present climate, if you're a woman and you can do something small like the men do, just play the women empowerment card and that right there, is your claim to fame. Soon I'll be doing songs sponsored by the UN, NATO, NADMO, MOWAC, Zoom Lion, Talibans and all dem dems.

[caption id="" align="alignleft" width="236" caption="That's What I'm Talking 'Bout!!!"][/caption]

You see, I've been watching this game from the sidelines for a decade and a half now and I've mastered my game plan. For my single, I go sample some foreign beat (hopefully I'll remember to give them credit and pay royalties), I'll beg Wanlov to cough on the beat for me, then I'll get Apietus to mumble incoherently for my chorus and finally I'll find PSquare or some other well known Nigerian artist to feature on the track. And that right there my dear people is now you make an international hit that is ready to break all the records in music on the western part of this continent. Soon enough, I'll be signed unto DefJam, Universal Studios, BMI, EMG or better still Konvict Records, and then there'll be some controversy about the deal, which all the media houses in Ghana will pick on. And before you know it, the whole Ghana will be talking about me.

When it comes to dropping an album, the game plan is a little complicated, but I'm still on top of things. For that I may have to represent Ghana on Big Brother Africa. Try not to be the first person to be eliminated; I'll stay on till at least half the time for the duration in the house. At every given chance, I'll rap some of my songs into the mirrors. Through that, I'll make a few links across the continent. Then when I'm evicted, I'll come home and feature Kwaku T, Sammy B and even, yes, even Mimi all on one track. That track will be called the Big Brother Connection. Oh, I have a lot of ways and means to succeed in this game. So you better watch out.

Now the last thing I need to do to top this all off is to develop a slang. Yup. It is very essential in this game. I for go see some one or two people who have perfected the art of acquiring foreign accents locally to tutor me for a few weeks. I'm a fast learner so that won't be a problem. It's a challenge, but if I must survive in this game, this I must do.

I'm currently accepting applications to fill any role imaginable on this career path. Help make my dream come true; by so doing, your dream will come true too.

the.definition.of.an.artist.

Following this 5Five and DJ Cyndo catastrophe, I've been thinking about how easily we call ourselves artistes when really and truly, there's not a teeny weeny drop of art in us.

As an artist, I expect that you have something to say. Something that will change people's lives and ways of being. Positively. You are not an artist simply because you can string meaningless words together and make them rhyme to some beat. You are an artist because you see the world differently and hope that your perceptions of the world will make life more enjoyable for others. Be it through poetry, music, dance, painting or sculpture. You are an artist because you can shape the way people see things with your artistic ability. As an artist you maintain your originality, as any perversion to your ideals signals your doom.

Contrary to popular belief, you are not there for the chicks or the bling. You are there because your heart sings the passion and the pain of the present and the vision of tomorrow. Don't be fooled when all the girls and guys hype you up because you're the in thing. It's all ephemeral and in no time, you'll find yourself in the middle of nowhere asking yourself questions that you should have asked yourself way before you started your journey into your so-called stardom. Whether you believe me or not, your "reign" will last as long as the rain in harmattan.

Wun.

why.5Five.will.never.play.at.my.wedding

Truth be told. I've never been a fan of 5Five. I've always seen them as many of the one hit wonders in our entertainment scene. And I was am right. When their current single dropped, unfortunately, I liked it. I wasn't happy that I liked it. In fact I was more aware of my surprise for liking it, that the fact that it was an enjoyable tune that was to be liked. Naturally, my default setting when it comes to hiplife music is "to be disliked on first hearing". Fortunately, I have whitelisted a few exceptions that disprove the rule, but I'm very wary of those; and 5Five is not on that list. That said, I'm big enough to admit when I'm wrong, when I'm wrong. I was unhappy to admit that 5Five had managed to prove me wrong and work their way to my brownlist (awaiting approval to the whitelist club), with their Move Back track (featuring the one and only Apietus). Imagine my surprise when I heard this track from DJ Cyndo (youtube link below). No matter how slow your internet connection is, I implore you to have a listen.

 



Now check out this viral video oh 5Five's Move Back.



Notice any similarities, correspondence, differences, or variance?

 

After hearing both tracks, a range of possible questions pop up in my mind.

1. Was there a Sampling?


2. If there was a Sampling, who is the Samplee and who is the Sampler (who sampled who?)?


3. Did the Sampler pay dues to the Samplee?


4. Is the Sampler aware that there is a Samplee around the corner?


5. What will the Samplee do if they realize that the Samplee has given no credit for the Sampler's hard work.

Sincerely, I want to believe that DJ Cyndo sampled our GH boys. But we all know that when it comes to the average GH hiplife track, they are live on Copy Cat Boulevard. So you be the judge. For me, this is why 5Five and several other hiplife groups will never ever ever play at my wedding!!!

 

dowry.cowry

I don't usually like forwarded messages, but a friend sent me this and I just had to share it with you all. It is a list of the required dowry from the major ethnic groups in Ghana. I am uncertain as to who the author of this magnificent piece is, but I doff off my hat to this person. I have made slight modifications to suit the style of the RebelRyter's Realm.

Just for the record, I am Akuapem, so this list will be added on to the list I so freely furnished in my previous post.

The Gas

1. 10 pieces of white cloth (to be worn by the lady during pregnancy & for the outdooring)


2. 20 crates of Star beer (10 for the mother-in-law, 10 for father-in-law)


3. Albion or Nissan Bluebird car


4. 4 live pigs (for domedo - a term for grilled/fried pork)


5. One akasanoma radio (for listening to Obunu 93.3FM)


6. 2 years advance rent (as you will be staying with your in-laws)


7. 1 CD compilation of DJ Gblagazaa's Mixx feat Screwface


8. 1 Pair Trawler


9. 1 drum of apeteshie - (a locally brewed alcoholic beverage - 100% alcohol). This will be for the purposes of offering libation.


10. Valid residence preferably in James Town, Mpoase, Mamprobi, Chokor, Teshie, Tsui Bleeoo, Teshie Tiafi-ahe

The Ashanti

1. Valid visa to Germany/Spain/USA


2. Shares in Obuasi Goldfields


3. 1 Store at a Commercial Business District


4. A degree in "yobbing" (incessant and unnecessary bragging)


5. DNA Test results to prove lineage to the Asante Kingdom


6. Middle School Leaving Certificate (standard 7 accepted)


7. 5 sets of mortar and pestle (for years of fufu pounding)


8. Cassava & plantain farm (no fufu powder)


9. Must speak fluent "capo" language


10. 1 copy of Everyday English


11. Valid residence in communities such as Abossey Okai, North Kaneshie, Sukura and Russia

The Ewes

1. 10kg of "atama" snuff (for the father-in-law)


2. Oversized Tema-station suit (for future growth and expansion)


3. A Cassava farm


4. Multi-colored XXXL towel for father-in-law (if he's from the Southern Volta)


5. 10 pieces of white "Obroni waawu" singlets (for the father in-law)


6. 8 pieces of multicolored vest (for Mother-in-law). To be used on market days


7. One stall at Asigame (for mother-in-law)


8. Connections to work in government agencies preferably post offices and hospitals


9. 20 sets of neatly wrapped chewing sticks


10. My First Copy Book (for retired fisherman now turned student


11. Valid residence preferably in these locations: Madina, Agbogba, Adenta, Haatso, Libya Quarters, Ashaley Botwe

The Kwahus

1. 3 year valid SUSU Savings/account


2. Hardware store- dealing in cement, iron rods, paints, roofing sheets etc.


3. Middle School Leaving Certificate


4. Ability to sponsor Easter trips back home every year


5. Valid visa and work permit in Spain preferably apple plantations


6. One drinking spot


7. Valid residence in areas such as Dome, Taifa, Kwabenya, Saint Johns etc

The Krobos

1. 30 packs of GSMF approved condoms (protection sake)


2. 20 funeral cloths


3. Ability to perform paternity tests often


4. One blue kiosk


5. 45 pieces of mercy soap/cream and ointment


6. Residence in a compound house

The Akuapems

1. a Presby Hymn book (Akwiapim Version)


2. A Bible (Akuapem translation, hard cover)


3. 2 tubers of yam for (otoh - mashed yam and palm oil meal)

The Fantes

1. 20 crates of Ovaltine/Tetley tea bags


2. 50kg of sausage


3. 77 containers of jam/margarine


4. 67 crates of ideal milk


5. 10 boxes of turkey wings


6. 6 crates of eggs


7. 1 seagoing canoe


8. Required High School-Adisadel College & Mfantsipim


9. Participation in keysoap TV programmes especially Cantata & Concert Party


10. Connection to work in government agencies such as Post office, Ministries and Newspaper agencies


11. The man has to prove eligibility to rise up to be a Principal Secretary


12. Qualifies to live in government bungalow


13. A side plan (done by the most renowned architect in the country Architect..........) which will always be in his back pockets, to exhibit/show the building plan he will never be able to put up.


14. Tons of carton of beefi nam for light soup.

bride.price.fried.rice

Before I go any further to discuss the topic for this blogpost, please be aware that what you are about to read in no way tries to condemn or justify the culture of Bride Prices or Dowries in our traditional marriage ceremony. This post only seeks to discuss into some detail, the constituents of the Bride Price in view of current modern cultures, practices and trends.

Now onto it.

I’m sure most of you have at one point or the other in your lifetime been to a traditional engagement ceremony in Ghana. It doesn’t matter how young or old you are, it is usually along the same lines. A man and a woman date for some time; the man asks the woman to marry her (or the woman coerces the man to ask him to marry her :P); they agree to be with each other forever and then comes the Knocking Ceremony. As the name implies, it involves the man knocking at the door of the lady’s home, then being invited in by the bride's family. The man’s entrance is usually with singing, drumming or dancing (sometimes all of the above). Him, his abusuafoɔ (family: nuclear and extended) and friends come in bearing gifts of all forms, sizes and shapes - the Bride Price - in a colourful display. It’s very fascinating really. The elements of this gift package include, her dowry, a Bible, the engagement ring, yards of fabric, underwear for the lady, a suitcase (portmanteau) jewellery, a goat, a cow, a car (in some extreme cases), among other things. Some families prefer to give out a list and from what I’ve heard, this is the subject of many a debate, both internally and externally. It is very likely that if the potential mother/father-in-law approves of it, the potential son-in-law will disapprove of it. And so on, and so forth. Sometimes, the engagement ceremony is put on ice until some amicable agreement is achieved.

Let's milk the cow dry, shall we?

 

 

But I'm no expert in tradition, so I won't go any further down this road. My case is very simple. If in 1945 owning a full piece of Printex wax meant the world to you, in the year 2010, a full piece of Printex wax print pales in comparison to a 60 inch Plasma television! All in favour say "Aye aye Captain Rebel".

What in goodness name am I going to do with bails of Printex or GTP fabric? Perhaps if I had a shop in Makola, that would be ideal. But I'm not, so go figure! I like tradition, don’t get me wrong. I admire the thought that went behind the action back in the 1700s. Note: Pass tense. You do realize that these traditions were based on the customs of the era in which they were created, and back then, there was nothing like High Definition Television!!! I dey lie?

So I am making a decree, right here, right now on this World Wide Web. This decree goes out to enlighten any man out there who may dare to marry me, that he’s not going to get away easily with a few pieces of cloth and a portmanteau. No no no. I'm a modern girl (anybody know the equivalent of 90's girl in the 2000s?) as such, I have modernized my traditions, with modern items in my modern engagement list. As such modern items such as the full range of all of Apple’s products; I’m talking iPhones, iPads, iPods, Macbooks, iMacs, and whichever Apple product may have emerged; a 60-inch HDTV; designer watches (emphasis on “watches”); 12 sets of pants suits, some artwork from a famous painter (preferably a dead one), a complete gym set to maintain my figure after having our children and several others. I could go on until eternity. I want practical items, things that apply to my life in the year 2010. I don’t want to do things for the sake of tradition. The tradition must be applicable. We must evolve our traditions and in effect our bride price! Is that too much to ask? I don’t drink schnapps; nor does any other member of my family. So it would be prudent of you to bring in a bottle of Alize or Chardonnay or something like that. Forget about the old stuff. It’s absolutely useless! What am I going to do with unending yards of cloth? I might make a series of bed sheets out of them. That’s all their good for (from the Rebel's perspective, that is).

 

If traditions are based on the lifestyles of people, and we both agree that society evolves, why don’t our traditions evolve with the evolving society? Why do we stick to irrelevant customs made for people who have been dead for years now? Someone tell me why. If you think of a good reason, please let me know. I’m counting on you.

 

rebel.of.honour

About two months ago, a very good friend asked that I become the maid of honour at her wedding. After she said those words to me over the phone, there was a pause and subsequently, 5-10 seconds of laughter. It was a shared joke. She and I have been friends for about 7 years now and having met on the soccer field, she knew what she was asking when she asked it. During that momentary pause in time (all of 2 seconds) I became dizzy with an assortment of thoughts; thoughts of make-up, eyebrow tweezing, high-heeled shoes, dress, nails painting, flowers and all the other out-of-character things I would have to endure. After running back and forth the tracks of this mental "ordeal", the "honour" bit in the title entered my consciousness and the dizzying thoughts settled. So I asked, "Do I have to wear a dress?" and with that she knew that I'd already accepted the position and the rest became a part of history that will never be forgotten.

As a child, due to my very nature, I was never used as a flower girl in any wedding, and as I grew older, I preferred a more background role (taking pictures and making sure everyone followed the day's protocol) avoiding the spotlight as much as possible. So this was the perfect opportunity to prove to the world what I was made up of as I took reigns of a prominent part in a wedding ceremony. To be honest with you I was more "afraid" than anything else. Nevertheless, I took hold of the role gladly and yet, gingerly, uncertain of what to expect, yet hopeful.

[caption id="attachment_204" align="aligncenter" width="516" caption="(from left to right) Naa, Marcy, Karen and the Rebel of Honour"][/caption]

As the days rolled closer to the D-day, it still didn't hit me, not even when I tried on the dress. The very first reaction I got was from my younger brother was summed-up into a simple shriek (better seen than said). Turning aside from that, I showed it to the bride who thought I looked dashing so I ignored my brother.

Then on the day of the event, during my make-up session, it hit me. Real hard this time; with every stroke of the make-up brush. I knew then, that there was no use holding back, and so I let go, ridding my self of almost every Rebel Ryter attachment and allowing the Rebel of Honour spirit to take over. Evidently, after my make-up session, I couldn't recognize myself in the mirror, and as a direct result, the rest of the day was extremely surreal. Thankfully, before I could drift too far off into wonderland, I reminded myself of the very essence of the day's event and that made every tweezed hair totally worth it. The wedding ceremony was perfect and I was proud to have been a part of it, and not just any part, a very essential and crucial part, so crucial the wedding couldn't have gone on without me :-P.

[caption id="attachment_206" align="aligncenter" width="510" caption="The Rebellious Make-Up"][/caption]

Now to Marcelle and Tai, thanks for the wonderful experience, thanks for bringing out the woman in me (despite the fact that it was only for a few hours). All together, it was a great experience, one that I may not want to repeat too often, but would undoubtedly cherish for now and for always.

To all of you who are thinking "This is it. This is what will change Freddy. Now she'll start making her face up to places and throw in some skirts and dresses into her wardrobe." Well ... I hate to disappoint you, but it WON'T! It will take a lot more than one pretty dress and make-up session to convert me. But I'll be happy to do it once or twice a year, only next time I'll charge for my service, simply because I put some umph into the ceremony.

Waiting for the Jump Off

Today there's going to be some serious talk. I'm tearing out a page in my diary and letting you into it. I hope you enjoy the read.

...you see, I don’t see myself as an introverted person. In fact I am extremely extroverted...when I choose to be. Yet for some reason I think I could use a little getting out there...if you get what I mean.

I usually blame it on the fact that I don’t have many outlets of expression and the few are available ones are corrupted by hiplife artists, wannabes and school dropouts. Ergo, I sit in my bed, fiddle with my MacBook Pro and strike great acquaintances with the applications on it, or I check out new gadgets on Engadget dot com and drool over the outrageous contraptions that fall from outer space unto the laps of geeks responsible for bringing us closer to the future - at least that’s what we are suppose to believe. It’s really not that big of a deal. I prefer the comfort of my company rather than being at the peril of undereducated individuals who might potentially downgrade my intelligence.

I am not the kind of person that would shy away from a crowd or be the one at the end of a bad joke. I quite enjoy intelligent banter that requires the usual interjection that we human beings employ to express their emotions. It is more often than not the exchange of pointless information. As you can see from all the evidence stated, I’m better off being by myself in my room.

Occasionally I like to experiment with the human race and see how far the art of socialising has developed over time. So I let go of my inhibitions and convince myself to engage in an outdoor event with a trusted friend. As a rule, I always enquire of the background of the other members of the party I might be unfamiliar with. The trusted friend often responds with “oh Freddy, you’re just crazy!”. But am I? I just can’t stand having "meaningful-less" conversations with people with bad grammar and/or poor sense of humour. The communication cycle simply travels a straight line downwards (at the mercy of gravity). I prefer dialogue of a more astute manner. It's just who I am. Luckily choosing the right type of friends means your friends choose the right type of friends too. The word "usually" being the operative word here.

Enough about my introverted notions about people and places. For most of my life, I believe that in some alternate reality I could become a stand up comedian. When you catch me in the zone and I’m on the roll cracking everyone up, I’m very good at it, I promise. Other times I feel that I could direct some extremely complicated stage show like a musical concert of maybe even an orchestra. But let’s just keep it simple. The thing is, I know that if I tried, I could. I see and feel myself doing and being that person, only I don’t know how I to get there - the realization of all these aspirations and conceptualisations. Trust me, there are many. There’s one little challenge I have identified - they call it "The Push".  For some reason I've been made to believe that it is someone else’s responsibility to push me into living that dream.

Imagine me sitting at the edge of the cliff waiting to be pushed off so I could fly and show off my beautiful wings. It's just silly when you think about it. See, I’m close to 30 and I’m asking myself how much longer am I going to sit at the edge waiting to be pushed off by some imaginary Good Samaritan. If I’ve managed to get to the edge of the cliff myself, I should be able to push myself off. What does it take? Just a simple slip would be good enough to push me over. I’ve been waiting for so long that I’ve made my home at the cliff and given all the rocks at the mountain edge names!

After much deliberation, I’ve come to a very simple solution. I have decided to become my very own Good Samaritan. I shall be the hand that pushes me off the cliff, the boot that propels me over. I will boldly walk off the edge, jump from my securities and fly into my insecurities (yes, I said that right), give myself up and be at the mercy of the wind’s gravity (assuming there’s any such thing), set these wings out to dry and feel fly, be with the birds and see things from their standpoint viewpoint.

For me, I guess the whole point is to rise up above the limitations and the fears and the worries and the hold-ups and just see that there’s so much more ahead. Sure a lot of water has gone under the bridge of life and age, and a lot more will go under, but instead of dwelling on that, perhaps we should look for the waterfall or the spring from whence the water cometh, instead of following the trail of used up water.

So the next time you see me on the street and I have gusto to my gait and a pep to my step, please know that I’ve flown off the edge and I’m turning every moment of my life into a great moment to enjoy. I’m tired of waiting around for someone to kickstart me, I’m kicking myself in the butt and getting out there, taking the territories, jumping the bungees, shaking down mountains, robbing the banks (did I just say that?), whatever, daring to be greater and bigger than I imagine in my dreams. Hoping that by the time I’m 50, I would have crossed at least 100 items off my bucket list.

Watch out people, here comes the next world wonder!!!

Here’s my advice to anyone waiting for a jolt of lightning to do something with themselves, I’ll tell you this now; You are wasting your time. It’s your life, you are the one responsible for living it and nobody else. Mr. Innocent Bystander cannot determine the amount of energy you require for the jump off; nor can he predict what time of the day you need that bolt to run through your system, so you might as well create your own gust of wind and fly off the edge. I’m just saying...

The Truth About Taxis II !!!

So I’m back, as promised, with my next post on the Truth About Taxis titled ... guess ... guess again ... The Truth About Taxis II!!!

I know, I know, riveting. I can’t wait to see what I write and how you feel after you read it. Just so you know, this has taken years of observation and decades of research; so please, by all means try this at home, or on the street, whichever you prefer.

Now, almost everyone has sat in a taxi or at least seen a taxi either on the street or parked under a tree somewhere. But before I go on, I would like you all to note that this isn't a lecture and this paper is not examinable. I’m simply to share the wisdom that comes ever so freely to me. As such, take this just as a few pointers to keep in mind when dealing with taxis: whether it is taking one or driving around one.

Point One - Always be ready to bargain. When you stop a taxi, describe your destination as well as you can, as fast as you can. This confuses the driver, if he’s wise, he’ll ask you again and then you would have to take it slowly. Thankfully, most taxi drivers will not be smart enough to know what game you are up to. So chances are, they’ll say they know and then quote a ridiculously high price, which you should drop down by at least ¢3. When they refuse, tell them that it is OK and that you’ll wait for another taxi. Step away from the vehicle and proceed to look towards oncoming traffic for another taxi. If you are lucky, he’ll signal you with his hand, flapping it gently towards himself gently, indicating you to hop in.

CAUTION: don’t look too excited by your victory, remain cool and sit in the car. If he drives away, try the same procedure with the next taxi. There’s a 90% chance of you getting away with this.


Point Two - If you have an accent lose it! Be as "local" as possible. Anything that might give you away as sounding, looking or being foreign has to go! If by any chance you are with an “obroni”/”oyibo”, it is best to keep them out of sight until you have bargained with the taxi driver on the fare he wishes to charge you. The slightest hint of “foreign-ticity” will result in a 100% increase in fare charges.

Point Three - Never hire a taxi that’s parked at a taxi rank. Most station based taxi drivers like to argue a lot and are generally “too-known”. They also charge at least 50% more than the usual fare.

Point Four (very important point) - If you have to go to a traffic prone area in a taxi, before you bargain with the taxi driver for a good fare, be emphatic that at that time of the day there’s no traffic. Proceed to indicate what times of the day and for what reasons traffic builds up in those places. Assure him that there will be no traffic at that time and pray that it is as you say. However, when you do meet a traffic jam, act surprised and start looking at your watch every second. Then tell the driver that you are absolutely shocked that there is so much traffic here. Talk endlessly about how it is impossible to predict traffic situations lately and how the government must construct more roads. You can also divert his attention to a policeman standing close by (assuming there is a policeman close by) and say how sad it is that they extort so much money from poor taxi drivers.

A suitable alternative is to talk about politics and how we need a president who will make the lives of every one better by reducing fuel prices. The purpose of this is to endear pity and to make him know that you are suffering in life just as much as he is even if you. He’ll forgive you and forget all about the traffic jam you’ve put him. In effect, sympathize with him. But be careful of those “experienced and hardened drivers” who know all these tricks. With them you may have to make a phone call to a close friend or relative and talk about the pressures of work over the phone. Darn if you don’t have credit on your phone that day!

Point Five - Never take a Tico if you have to go someplace important. Arriving in a Tico strips you of your status. Ticos are not the best choice if you want to make a good impression on people. For some reason, even the newest Tico taxi looks cheap, and as a result, charge cheaper than other taxis. Research into the Tico phenomenon is still ongoing. One thing I know however is that they are the preferred choice in the mountainous regions.

Point Six - Never stop a taxi that’s driving in the opposite direction from where you want to go. More often than not, the taxi drivers will charge you about 40% more than those going in the direction you are headed. I suppose the surcharge comes from turning the vehicle around.

Point Seven - If you are driving behind an empty taxi, chances are that you’ll be driving at no more than 30kmph. Reason is, they are on the look out for passengers and every pedestrian along the road way will receive a hoot and a honk.

Point Eight - For no apparent reason, a taxi driver will take out a duster and wipe his dashboard. Other times, he might simply buy sachet water from the nearest vendor and use it to wipe his windscreen. Don’t ask the obvious question that comes to your mind.




Point Nine - At night be prepared to be blinded by the highlights of the taxi driver. Several Taxi drivers have not firmly grasped the concept of when and how to use their highlights.

Point Ten - Make a taxi driver friend. It is as handy as a hammer in a toolbox. You’ll know when you get there.

There you have it, Ten (10) Truths about Taxis. This should keep you occupied for a while. Below, I have put together a 5 general tips for the inexperienced driver in town.

1. Never drive behind or on the side of a cargo truck. You never know when their brakes will fail or the cargo their carrying will decide to tip over.


2. Before you decide to jump a red light, look left, look right and look before you for any amber clothed individual. There just might be some “baby/zoom lion police” waiting to hop into your car and take your last penny.


3. Watch out for young ladies in posh cars, their driving skills are generally worse than taxi drivers.


4. For reasons I can’t explain on this here blog, just don’t drive at Circle or Kaneshie if you’ve been driving for less than 6 months!


5. Expect to be cut-off by reckless drivers on the road trying to change to the faster lanes. You’ll be lucky to have a wave of the hand or a flash of the hazard light as a way of asking for forgiveness. If you honk your horn at them, you’ll get more than a wave. One of these days, I will dedicate a blog post to the illustrate road-hand-signs they don’t teach you in driving school.

While you guys chew on this, I shall be patiently waiting for the day that we will ride limo-cabs in Ghana and have suited-up chauffeurs for drivers.

THE TRUTH ABOUT TAXIS I

Does anyone know how taxis came to be? And why they are called taxis in the first place? Do we know why they chose to identify taxis with those multicoloured patches instead of going for a monotone? Why do we wait until cars are completely run down before we convert them into taxis and why do they have all these “poetic”, often misspelled and misunderstood writings on them? All these we may never know. However, there are a few things that we do know about taxis and I am here to share them with you.

Let’s start with the word “Taxi” itself: what does it mean? I’ve done some research and it turns out that the word taxi is short for taxicab, which in itself is a contraction of “taximeter cabriolet”. (Cabriolet is a type of a horse-drawn carriage). The word, as the brilliant ones amongst you may have figured out already, is originally French. But I won’t bore you anymore with the etymology of the word taxi.

[caption id="attachment_153" align="aligncenter" width="495" caption="New York Taxi"][/caption]

The use of taxis started way back in Rome, in the 1800s. Then it moved into the US, Canada and it trickled to downtown Ghana, Africa. And that’s where the story gets interesting.

By the way, did you know that the colour yellow is the colour most easily seen from a distance? So says Wikipedia.

Let’s come to Ghana where taxis are coloured in combinations of blue+yellow+black or orange+brown+green and several other intriguing combinations. Besides the colour codes they come in, there is a lot to learn about them.

Take for instance the writings on them. The other day I drove past a parked taxi, which proclaimed in bold lettering; “GOD IS MY SEATBELT”. Frankly, that statement left me dazed for a minute, maybe two. Did it mean that because God was his seatbelt, he wasn’t going to wear any; or was that statement to day that whether or not he wore a seatbelt God would keep him safe from any accidents? What about your passengers? Is God their seatbelt too? There are many ways you can debate on this statement. I could write a whole thesis on this. Trust me. Does anyone know whether these “taxi quotes” are the mantras of the car owners or the philosophies by which taxi drivers live? Imagine being crossed by a taxi with the quote “NO HURRY IN LIFE” written across it. Yeah, I know.

[caption id="attachment_156" align="aligncenter" width="300" caption="taxi"][/caption]

There’s a certain culture with taxi drivers.  They spend almost all their time on the road that they believe they live on the road corridor and as such everyone else must bow in their presence and give them way. You know what I mean: zigzagging across lanes, stopping abruptly to pick up passengers, slowing down at junctions to peering down to sight potential passengers…the list could go on.

I sat in a taxi the other day and the driver went no more than 50kmph the whole time. I promise! So I asked him in Twi, “can’t your car go any faster? He replied, saying that if he went any faster, he would burn more fuel. Like hell you will. With that reply, I couldn’t ask any further questions. I didn’t want his car to jerk itself to a stop in the middle of the journey and be stranded along the side of the road.  So I sat in there quietly like a good girl until I got to my destination 20 minutes late for my appointment.



When it comes to taxi traffic talk (language), taxi drivers have a complete set of unique gestures; there’s one for when you don’t give them the chance to cut in front of you in a logjam; there’s one for when you honk at them to drive faster (this is when they are on the prowl for passengers); there’s another one for when they meet a fellow taxi driver; there are also a few gestures that you would rather not have them make at you. I have no doubt that you get this often. They cross you in traffic unexpectedly and when you honk your horn at them, they simply throw their hand out of the window as though you were a fly they were trying to swat. It is, if nothing at all, the most annoying hand movement in traffic.

I pray, I sincerely do pray that the next time a taxi driver throws out his hand out his window after a display of ignorance of traffic rules, oh I pray, that his hand gets chopped off! I’m serious.

The gesture is slightly different with most private car drivers. They simply wave at you as though that is enough to have prevented a near accident.

I will be back with my next post with some more info on a few things to note when dealing with taxis; either as a driver or passenger in a taxi.