water walk
I have observed some changes since I was in Ghana two years ago: there is a wealth of new SUVs on the road, new filling stations, and new bars. Buildings that were once sitting in various stages of construction have been completed; there is a new mall that upon entering puts one into a western stupor, climate controlled and brightly lit.
Ghana is deemed a new investment opportunity, with its middle class growing at a rate of almost 7 percent annually. But the infrastructure is not yet here to support the growth. We are staying with friends in a three bedroom, three-bathroom apartment complete with air-conditioning, fridge and freezer, stove and oven, guard, and maid. And yet, when the city of Accra shuts off its water supply, and our tank runs out, we are left without running water, and no backup sources. We go without bathing, and Grace the cook washes all the dishes with pure water sachets –500ml bags of so-called purified water. Friends use the water from their pool to bathe and flush the toilet. We are the privileged ones. That night we go for a walk down the train tracks to watch as hundreds of women and children haul water for kilometres, on their heads and sometimes with a child slung on their backs. For them the water offs are extreme. These people so physically strong and determined bring me to shame for even thinking that not bathing for a day is a hardship.