On a tro-tro from Kaneshie to Taifa
With windows opened to curtail the blazing heat
Horns urging my driver to speed up blare
And I look at the mate with pity as tempers flare.
A loud shout of "kwasia!" comes from here
And a louder bawl of "preko" comes from there
The issue at stake is the speeding of an overtaking car
That's a way of urging each other to obey the law.
My attention is shifted as the rickety radio emits a sound
What is it I hear, is it the pouring of sand?
Oh my God! Can’t Ghanaians talk about anything apart from Rawlings?
And yeah I am also tired of hearing about the Northern brawling.
As I wonder when Ghanaians will decide their own fate
My sober reflection is broken by the shout of "mate!"
Suddenly the smell of the popular delicacy of egg and pepper smacks my nose
Giving my hormones a stimulating dose.
Luckily for me the mate shouts "Last stop!"
As we hurriedly step down, on my face there's a smile
Yet tomorrow I travel the opposite mile.