By Solomon Mensah
Caution: The
content of this article could be nauseating to the reader!
Filth in
Darkness
The Sun seems
breathing fire. From where it hangs in the sky to where the descendants of Adam
tread on Earth, one wonders why its heat is so severe. Derrick Fosu, a 27 year
old teacher, is seen with his
forehead dotted with beads of sweat. He trudges out of a public place of
convenience here at New Town, a suburb of Sunyani.
The toilet
stands close to the Methodist Junior High School. Observing it from afar, it
promises to have had a good architectural look of its frontal view. A dwarfish
wall of pillars and mesh in shambles stand on the edges of both the male and
female entrances of the toilet. The wall protrudes to form a square-like shape
to enclose the forecourt. Upon entering the forecourt, a wooden structure (on
the left) which has never ‘tasted’ paint sits like a bull frog in a swamp. In
the tattered and tilted kiosk which could perfectly be described as a hen coop
sits the toilet’s attendant, an old man. He munches some groundnuts.
“I bought my
paper of which one cost 20 pesewas. Its size is a little bigger than a class
one pupil’s A1 exercise book. Walking down the defaced concrete ‘red carpet’
pavement to enter the toilet, one is greeted by a very pungent smell like that
of an expired egg,” Derrick says.
He says that he started wearing glasses (lens) far
back in 2002, then a Junior High School student. “But even with my glasses on,
I get lost into an impenetrable darkness whenever I enter this toilet.”
Boakyewaa Juliet, a 37 year old trader, will not
pass by upon seeing me interview Derrick. She says when one enters the facility
in question, the first half of a minute, one stands still like Dr. Kwame Nkrumah’s
statue at the Independence Square due to the darkness in it.
Derrick says that on his first day of patronizing
the facility, he had to draw back into the day’s light to switch on a
‘flashlight application’ he had on his phone. “This was just about 30 seconds
after entering. Slowly lifting one leg after the other, I finally found what my
eyes told me was a clean seat to squat on.
“Minutes later I realized that my feet sat in a
pool of maggots. The maggots were as innumerable as one couldn’t imagine such that
if you threw a grain of sand onto them, it would not find a way to fall onto
the cemented floor,” he told me.
Derrick and Juliet’s concerns represent the
sentiments shared by both the young and elderly who are the patrons of these
public toilets. Boakyewaa tells me that aside the toilet, the only option for
easing oneself is the ‘wrap and throw’ method. “You do it in a polythene bag
and throw it away. But I feel guilty doing that so this toilet is my last
resort.”
The state of others
At Penkwasi- another suburb of Sunyani- the filth
that adorns public toilets is not any different. Few meters away from the
Highstreet JHS sits two toilets. By just filing pass one of them (KVIP), one
stands the chance of being heartlessly ‘perfumed’ without paying a pesewa. This
particular toilet has lately seen a little improvement. Visiting it this time,
it has new aluminum roofing and seemingly whitewashed.
Martha Adjei who just got out of the toilet
shared the ordeal patrons of the toilet go through. “One has to squint off the
pots of urine and battle houseflies,” she said. Upon entering the toilet,
pockets of urine that stand in holes in front of the squatting-seats send one
squinting. At New Dormaa, Zongo, Area II, and Area III among many other suburbs
of Sunyani, the state of our public toilets is the same.
AMA’s tomb in the Capital City
I did not limit my search for a clean public
toilet only to Sunyani. In the heart of Ghana’s capital city, Accra, is a
toilet that I refer to as a tomb. It is situated some few meters from Maame
Dorkono’s Obra Spot. The Accra Metropolitan Assembly’s (AMA) toilet at the
37-Labadi Lorry Station is given a good painting on its outer look. It has both
urinal and toilet in one hall. I paid 20 pesewas to urinate.
In the toilet, one of three ceiling fans
meticulously rotates to drive away the unbearable breeze. On the doors of the
toilet’s cubicles is the inscription; “Please do not stand on the pot. Sit on
it.” Such give the impression that the AMA, by the standard of this particular
toilet, is poised to uplift the face of public toilets. However, this one, like
the others, is bedeviled with uncleanliness.
The water closet and urine sink are turning
brownish in colour. The former is in such a bad state that users of the
facility hide in squatting on it instead of sitting; which the toilet
attendants seriously abhor. The flashing system of the WC has as well
collapsed. One has to fetch water from a tank placed outside the facility when
flashing. The stench here, probably because of the chemical used in cleaning
the toilet, is disgusting. “Its condition, if not for the pressing need to
attend to nature’s call, I will never enter,” a user told me.
On my tour of public toilets, I have come to one
of the sanity-crippled toilets here at Labadi, a suburb of Accra. This toilet
sits opposite to the Omanye Art Gallery, on the Labadi Beach road. I have
bought my paper of which one cost 20 pesewas. Looking at the filthy nature of
the water closet, most users buy two papers costing them 40 pesewas.
Adjetey, a user tells me, “We divide one of the
papers into two so as to spread them on the edges (mouth) of the pot. I once
vomited upon entering the toilet because of the nauseating scent.” He says that
in the rainy season, maggots climb up to the mouth of the pots and it is very
worrying.
At La Maami, close to the Fraga Oil at the lorry
station, another toilet announces its presence by its stench. In front of this
toilet, food vendors compete for space as they mount their stands to sell to
their prospective consumers.
Watch this
space for Part II soon.
The Writer is a Sunyani-based Freelance
Journalist and a Cultural Activist.
Email: nehusthan4@yahoo.com
Twitter: @Aniwaba
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