It is Independence Day in Ghana – the 50th anniversary of the first independent nation in sub-Saharan Africa. It is a mouthful to say – but no one needs to say it. The streets of Accra are alive today with nationhood.
The crowds start early. Some have been out all night. By first light, throngs choke the streets. The colors of Ghana’s flag – a black star on a gold, green and red background – are everywhere. It is as if the nation’s symbol has come to life, multiplied, and migrated en masse towards Independence Square, site of the day’s festivities, stitched into every imaginable fashion, drawn onto every imaginable surface, painted onto the faces of babies.
The stands lining two sides of the square fill immediately. Around them, those too late for seating move in sweeping currents, seeking precious space from which to view the huge expanse of concrete square. Officials wearing uniforms of every possible description stride purposefully about.
Ghana’s traditional chiefs are the first to arrive. Some are sheltered from the gathering sun by huge shade makers of exquisite canvas or silk. Others arrive to the notes of horns carved from bone, heralding the movement of tribal leaders for centuries. All are dressed in traditional cloth – loose hanging robes of cotton or intricately woven patterns of kente cloth for which Ghana is famous.
Next come the military. A ringing cheer rises up when they march into the square – a rigid forest of red, blue and white uniforms, black bayonets and silver swords. Officers bark commands above the din, directing squares of men and women in drills of precision. The crowd delights, until finally the formations take up positions facing the grandstand, come to attention, and wait.
The dignitaries arrive with more restrained ceremony. Expensive cars, most bearing small flags announcing the nationality of their occupant, pull up to the red carpet laid out for them. They step from their vehicles, shake hands with the official greeters, and are shown to a spot in the arched grandstand, overlooking the vast parade ground. In all, 30 dignitaries attend.
But it is the last of these officials who sparks the now sweltering crowds. At the sight of the flag of Ghana, fluttering at the head of his vehicle, an electric charge surges through the crowd. It seems to bear the car onwards towards the small, flag draped podium that awaits. There, John Kufour, President of Ghana, emerges to cheers, and casts a wave to each section of the crowd. A military officer approaches, sword in hand, and bears the president on a review of the troops, before he takes his seat beneath the arches of the grandstand.
Over the next hours there are sweeping displays by hundreds of synchronized performers, bearing flags of the nation’s colors. There is military pomp and circumstance. Planes streak overhead, and draw roars from the crowd. The world’s press lean in, only barely contained by police, to get the shot they need for the news tonight. It must be said that it is grandeur far removed from the Ghana where poverty is oppressive, malaria rife, and food so scarce that there is seasonal hunger. There are voices in Ghana who question the government’s $20 million price tag for the nation’s birthday when so many go hungry. In Ghana, unlike many places in the world, they are allowed to ask openly.
Africa is a place of wonder. Life explodes here. Africa is also a place of poverty, disease and hunger, and life, however abundant, hangs always in the balance. The realities that make it so will still be here tomorrow, and many will continue to work to address them. But today, at least, in a humid city of gold and green and red, Africa is a place of unbridled celebration.
March 8th, 2007 | by David in Uncategorized
Stay updated regularly on David's trips, upcoming travel itinerary, useful photography tips and recent photographs. Sign up below.
All Material © 2008 David Snyder
