One of the brochures from the Ghana Tourist Board describes tro-tros as ‘adventure –filled minibuses’. Lonely Planet, takes a less romantic view – ‘a catch-all category that embraces all forms of transport that‘s not a bus or a taxi’. The tro-tro network across Ghana is comprehensive and often the only affordable way of getting from A to B. The coaches may be safer and cost no more but they are often equally unreliable and, as they almost totally ignore Koforidua, I have rarely used them.
A tro-tro is a minibus which can carry from around 14 to 24 passengers depending on size. Most are Japanese. Prerequisites are:
a) a cracked windscreen;
b) tip down seats in the side aisle (meaning that nobody on the left hand side can get out without the aisle passenger leaving the tro first);
c) a brief message in large cut out letters on the back window, usually religious – ‘God Knows’, ’Jesus Saves’, that kind of thing, although I have seen ‘Frank Lampard’;
d) a radio tuned either to booming reggae or a man ranting on religious or political themes or a hole in the dashboard and no radio at all;
e) a maximum of one functioning dial on the dashboard, rarely speedometer; and
f) one baby/small child who will cry for at least part of the journey. If unavailable, a chicken will provide a similar role.
The tro-tro will be manned by a driver and usually a driver’s mate. The mate collects fares, juggles small amounts of change and may allocate seats. I once saw a female mate in Accra, but don’t expect this to catch on. The tro-tro will not depart until all the seats are full. A tro-tro can take between a few minutes and several hours to fill depending on route and time of day. Larger tro-tros should be avoided as they take longer to fill and, paradoxically, there is less space in them. If desperate this wait can be circumvented by paying for any remaining seats. The only exception to this was a tro-tro I took from Cape Coast which left, for no obvious reason, with five empty seats.
The mate will drum up business by shouting out the name of the destination repeatedly – ‘Circlecirclecircle’ or ‘Accraaccraaccraaccra’. In Accra there are also a series of hand gestures which he will use at bus stops to indicate to passengers the tro tros destination. The most obvious being a downward circular gesture to present Nkrumah Circle the hub of the urban and regional network in Accra. Tro tros do not have destination boards but in tro-tro stations they will often have a wooden block on the roof with the name of the terminus on it. This is always removed before departure.
The front seat with the driver is usually a good bet as there is more leg room and usually a seat belt. The middle seat immediately beside the driver is less good as the seat is usually harder than the edge one and there is always the strong possibility that the driver will attempt to change gear with your knee.
Despite my height I have only once been truly uncomfortable in a tro-tro and the prospect of spending five hours in one presents no fears. On long journeys all the passengers lean forward with their heads on the seat in front. This is OK until a section of rumble strips is encountered. This has become a favourite design feature on Ghanaian roads. You can see the roads ministry officials deciding that if the generally poor state of roads doesn’t finish off the suspension in most cars then a few sleeping policemen should do the trick. The exceptional trip was the three hours from Tamale to Bolgatanga with David, Hugh and Dan. We had decided to sit along the back row. There were seats for five but as none of us were exactly small, you could not slide even a very small chicken between us. Seeing that the mate had no intention of leaving without the non-existent seat filled, we paid for it. The back row had almost no leg room and my bottom was soon very sore from taking all my weight. I really wanted to get out after the first hour. We resorted to trying to stand up for brief spells just to relieve the discomfort.
There is always very little space for luggage. I usually have a small rucksack and carry it on my knee. I have managed two rucksacks and a couple of carriers of groceries. Bigger items are charged for and they either go in the tiny space behind the back seat or on the roof. Most tro-tros no longer rely on the locking mechanism on the back door to keep it shut. They are usually tied down with strong cord and you hope it does not break on the journey.
While waiting in a tro-tro station or lorry park, various retail opportunities are presented by (generally) ladies carrying assorted wares on their heads. There are the usual pure water sachets, rich cake, plantain chips (delicious), ice creams, PK chewing gum and then there will be books, toothpaste, bread (very popular) and anything else anybody seems to have to hand. The sellers also know where the tro-tros will have to slow down en-route because of congestion so they wait there to do more business. Some roadside communities appear to be entirely dependent on passing tro-tro trade.
There will occasionally be on board entertainment in the form of an argument about seats or a small crash (the big ones fail to entertain). The crashes occasionally promise to escalate into a fight, with the driver either being egged on or scolded by the passengers. Travelling slowly (there is no other way) round the Accra Ring Road a man stood up near the front and tried to convince the passengers of the benefit of a small box of teeth cleaning powders. He was talking in Twi, but I’m sure that at one point he suggested that this was the preferred dental hygiene choice of white people. I was tempted to stand up and deny it. It is not uncommon for a prayer to be said before a tro-tro starts but on one trip, for at least half an hour, a woman decided to lead the tro-tro passengers in prayers and singing. The response dwindled and eventually she sat down and went to sleep.
Drivers will not be averse to unscheduled stops on route. You’ll be driving along a deserted country road and suddenly you’ll stop, a passenger or even the driver will get out and vanish into the bush. He will come back a few moments later with a huge bunch of plantain or a bottle of palm oil. On a related point, on the trip to Tamale, the coach stopped at road works and before we knew it, enterprising locals had sold enough plantain to the passengers to block the central aisle.
Routes are not entirely fixed. The Kumasi road into Accra is congested and there is a major new piece of road construction in hand. As things snarl up the tro-tros invariably turn right and take rutty unmade lanes round some residential area before rejoining the main road. Occasionally drivers are more ambitious and to the vocal dismay of the passengers will appear to head off in completely the wrong direction.
There are fairly frequent police check points on major routes. Most tro-tros are pulled over and the driver will show his papers and maybe give a small dash (‘gift’ or ‘tip’ but not a bribe, OK?) to the officer. Tro-tros in the south will, by and large, not carry more passengers than their official capacity. If they do it is usually only for a mile or so. In Volta region we were stopped when over the seating limit and the policeman insisted that the driver’s mate got out. We drove off without him and then waited for him to catch up on foot about half a mile further on.
I gather that my tro-tro experiences are fairly mild by comparison with those in the north of Ghana. Goats on a Tro may not have the same ring to it as Snakes on a Plane but they are common place in the Upper East and Upper West. As somebody said to me: “So how do goats get about in the south?” The answer is I don’t know, maybe they just stay at home. Some of the more experienced volunteers say that occasionally they have come across dead bodies on tro-tros, so there is something else to look forward to.
Tro-tros are usually elderly. The mildest manifestation of this is that clothes are easily torn on the exposed sharp corners of seats. The strongest, is that in any major collision they will crumple to nothing. I have sat in the back corner of a tro-tro and on bumpy roads felt one side move one way and one move the other. None would pass a British MOT. I have been on a tro-tro when the driver has turned the ignition key and there has been no sign of life in the battery whatsoever. He released the handbrake and we rolled off. The engine started and we drove for two hours without mishap. Tro-tros are a cheap, efficient and often entertaining way of travelling around Ghana, but I reserve the right to change this view when I break down in one.
A tro-tro is a minibus which can carry from around 14 to 24 passengers depending on size. Most are Japanese. Prerequisites are:
a) a cracked windscreen;
b) tip down seats in the side aisle (meaning that nobody on the left hand side can get out without the aisle passenger leaving the tro first);
c) a brief message in large cut out letters on the back window, usually religious – ‘God Knows’, ’Jesus Saves’, that kind of thing, although I have seen ‘Frank Lampard’;
d) a radio tuned either to booming reggae or a man ranting on religious or political themes or a hole in the dashboard and no radio at all;
e) a maximum of one functioning dial on the dashboard, rarely speedometer; and
f) one baby/small child who will cry for at least part of the journey. If unavailable, a chicken will provide a similar role.
The tro-tro will be manned by a driver and usually a driver’s mate. The mate collects fares, juggles small amounts of change and may allocate seats. I once saw a female mate in Accra, but don’t expect this to catch on. The tro-tro will not depart until all the seats are full. A tro-tro can take between a few minutes and several hours to fill depending on route and time of day. Larger tro-tros should be avoided as they take longer to fill and, paradoxically, there is less space in them. If desperate this wait can be circumvented by paying for any remaining seats. The only exception to this was a tro-tro I took from Cape Coast which left, for no obvious reason, with five empty seats.
The mate will drum up business by shouting out the name of the destination repeatedly – ‘Circlecirclecircle’ or ‘Accraaccraaccraaccra’. In Accra there are also a series of hand gestures which he will use at bus stops to indicate to passengers the tro tros destination. The most obvious being a downward circular gesture to present Nkrumah Circle the hub of the urban and regional network in Accra. Tro tros do not have destination boards but in tro-tro stations they will often have a wooden block on the roof with the name of the terminus on it. This is always removed before departure.
The front seat with the driver is usually a good bet as there is more leg room and usually a seat belt. The middle seat immediately beside the driver is less good as the seat is usually harder than the edge one and there is always the strong possibility that the driver will attempt to change gear with your knee.
Despite my height I have only once been truly uncomfortable in a tro-tro and the prospect of spending five hours in one presents no fears. On long journeys all the passengers lean forward with their heads on the seat in front. This is OK until a section of rumble strips is encountered. This has become a favourite design feature on Ghanaian roads. You can see the roads ministry officials deciding that if the generally poor state of roads doesn’t finish off the suspension in most cars then a few sleeping policemen should do the trick. The exceptional trip was the three hours from Tamale to Bolgatanga with David, Hugh and Dan. We had decided to sit along the back row. There were seats for five but as none of us were exactly small, you could not slide even a very small chicken between us. Seeing that the mate had no intention of leaving without the non-existent seat filled, we paid for it. The back row had almost no leg room and my bottom was soon very sore from taking all my weight. I really wanted to get out after the first hour. We resorted to trying to stand up for brief spells just to relieve the discomfort.
There is always very little space for luggage. I usually have a small rucksack and carry it on my knee. I have managed two rucksacks and a couple of carriers of groceries. Bigger items are charged for and they either go in the tiny space behind the back seat or on the roof. Most tro-tros no longer rely on the locking mechanism on the back door to keep it shut. They are usually tied down with strong cord and you hope it does not break on the journey.
While waiting in a tro-tro station or lorry park, various retail opportunities are presented by (generally) ladies carrying assorted wares on their heads. There are the usual pure water sachets, rich cake, plantain chips (delicious), ice creams, PK chewing gum and then there will be books, toothpaste, bread (very popular) and anything else anybody seems to have to hand. The sellers also know where the tro-tros will have to slow down en-route because of congestion so they wait there to do more business. Some roadside communities appear to be entirely dependent on passing tro-tro trade.
There will occasionally be on board entertainment in the form of an argument about seats or a small crash (the big ones fail to entertain). The crashes occasionally promise to escalate into a fight, with the driver either being egged on or scolded by the passengers. Travelling slowly (there is no other way) round the Accra Ring Road a man stood up near the front and tried to convince the passengers of the benefit of a small box of teeth cleaning powders. He was talking in Twi, but I’m sure that at one point he suggested that this was the preferred dental hygiene choice of white people. I was tempted to stand up and deny it. It is not uncommon for a prayer to be said before a tro-tro starts but on one trip, for at least half an hour, a woman decided to lead the tro-tro passengers in prayers and singing. The response dwindled and eventually she sat down and went to sleep.
Drivers will not be averse to unscheduled stops on route. You’ll be driving along a deserted country road and suddenly you’ll stop, a passenger or even the driver will get out and vanish into the bush. He will come back a few moments later with a huge bunch of plantain or a bottle of palm oil. On a related point, on the trip to Tamale, the coach stopped at road works and before we knew it, enterprising locals had sold enough plantain to the passengers to block the central aisle.
Routes are not entirely fixed. The Kumasi road into Accra is congested and there is a major new piece of road construction in hand. As things snarl up the tro-tros invariably turn right and take rutty unmade lanes round some residential area before rejoining the main road. Occasionally drivers are more ambitious and to the vocal dismay of the passengers will appear to head off in completely the wrong direction.
There are fairly frequent police check points on major routes. Most tro-tros are pulled over and the driver will show his papers and maybe give a small dash (‘gift’ or ‘tip’ but not a bribe, OK?) to the officer. Tro-tros in the south will, by and large, not carry more passengers than their official capacity. If they do it is usually only for a mile or so. In Volta region we were stopped when over the seating limit and the policeman insisted that the driver’s mate got out. We drove off without him and then waited for him to catch up on foot about half a mile further on.
I gather that my tro-tro experiences are fairly mild by comparison with those in the north of Ghana. Goats on a Tro may not have the same ring to it as Snakes on a Plane but they are common place in the Upper East and Upper West. As somebody said to me: “So how do goats get about in the south?” The answer is I don’t know, maybe they just stay at home. Some of the more experienced volunteers say that occasionally they have come across dead bodies on tro-tros, so there is something else to look forward to.
Tro-tros are usually elderly. The mildest manifestation of this is that clothes are easily torn on the exposed sharp corners of seats. The strongest, is that in any major collision they will crumple to nothing. I have sat in the back corner of a tro-tro and on bumpy roads felt one side move one way and one move the other. None would pass a British MOT. I have been on a tro-tro when the driver has turned the ignition key and there has been no sign of life in the battery whatsoever. He released the handbrake and we rolled off. The engine started and we drove for two hours without mishap. Tro-tros are a cheap, efficient and often entertaining way of travelling around Ghana, but I reserve the right to change this view when I break down in one.
2 comments:
dud this is not very fair you know this is my country here. the picture you painted was pretty extreme
I found a link to this post on Tim in Tamale's blog and I thoroughly enjoyed it! I have had many a nice item of clothing destroyed in a trotro - why don't they file down all the sharp edges, especially on the hinge/tilt-down seats??? And I am unfortunately familiar with having the driver change gears with my knee on the second seat - which is not really a seat but a piece of foam nailed to a board and placed over the engine(?) and it can and does get bloody hot after a while.
I love the stories - you should have said your piece to the fellow selling tooth powder! That'll teach them. Taking trotros can be dreary and the onboard entertainment, various as it is, makes it a little less tedious.
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