Page 31 - Obruni In Ghana | Amber Lockridge

OBRUNI IN GHANA 29
your driver is nervously talking to himself while trying to navigate his obviously overloaded taxi through a checkpoint. You hunker down in the seat but, unfortunately, white people glow like ghosts in an African nightscape. Sucks to be you! The cop sticks his head in and remarks good-naturedly on the illegal situation before him. The driver babbles about how you forced him to do it. You try the “ignorance of us silly foreigners” excuse but the officer only laughs, unimpressed by your emphatic pleas and deception. Finally, he looks at you and remarks,
“I’d like some ice cream too”. You all jump on this opportunity to offer to bring him back some and what kind does he want. “No,” he shakes his head and stares penetratingly into the car. “How can I be sure you would come back? I’d like my ice cream now.”
Hearty laughter and pleasant banter follows as one of you digs 2,000 cedis out of your pocket and urges the officer to buy himself a couple of frozen