Stripped and Flogged- The Cedi-Dollar War Episode 1

I was doing well as a fried yam, turkey tail, chicken and sausage seller. I had a beautiful table, a big sieve and some benches and tables for customers to sit and enjoy their meals. I was neat and hardworking so my customers loved me very much, until I fell ill during the Covid era. I felt dizzy, had a headache and a sore throat with fever, so I told a nurse who was a neighbour about it. She just told me to rest and that she will work on things to make sure I get well.
I was sleeping when I heard an ambulance wailing in my direction. We were in tensed times so I was wondering what was happening to warrant an ambulance. I went out only to see about five people dressed in polythene-like accouterments with all their faces covered. Before I could say jack, they bundled me like a bundle of firewood into the vehicle. They gave me an injection and sent me to the hospital. I spent two weeks there, was ruled safe from Covid and discharged. I wondered why a common cold could get me arrested but the world was going through a lot, so I considered it as one of those things.
When I came back, I had bought yams, sausages and chicken already stored so I decided to start work right away.
That very day, no one patronized my food, not even a single being came around. In fact, people decided not to look even in my direction. I was like the pandemic that humans were running from. I went about my business for four more days, hoping it would change and realized I had lost so much money and had run into debt. On top of that, no one would talk to me. So I stopped and stayed at home with my three children. I am a single mother.
I blamed the nurse for making me out to be the ghost of Covid, scaring all and sundry including my cherished customers. She was sorry. She brought me 5 kilos of rice with one litre of oil and that was all. So I started going to Kantamanto and worked as a head porter.
I have been doing this for two years now. I just woke up one day and there was price hikes on everything. The rice I buy for 3 cedis per margerine tin was 7 cedis. I who earn at most 40 cedis a day, pay 15 cedis for transportation and had three children. The transport fare also increased to 22 cedis. I can only feed my children once a day and it is killing me inside. To top it, the prices of goods and services keep running like an athlete on drugs. I don’t know how I can cope. I’ve contemplated suicide but the thought of leaving my children alone makes it too unfair to act on it. We now live in a scary place, a very very scary place where even the rich want to flee. It is now a scary place to live, Ghana.
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © October 30, 2022
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