Drinking at the doctors in the Ivory Coast

Booze or medicine It’s a common dilemma for the poor, hard-drinking man: spend your limited funds on medicine or get drunk to disguise the symptoms? However, in West Africa they have found a unique solution – make booze into medicine. In the Ivory Coast it all starts with the basic ingredient of palm wine or Banji as its known. Sap from certain varieties of palm is tapped off every day from the living trees to be delivered to the thirsty, although…

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Nobody runs in Gonzague

A bit of everyday life in the suburbs of Abidjan, Ivory Coast There’s a wonderful lack of urgency on the sandy streets of Gonzague, this ramshackle development stretched out along the pedestrian unfriendly, coastal route to Grand Bassam. Why hurry anywhere, when you can dawdle in the sun and sea breeze, chat to neighbours or a shopkeeper, making a trip to the shop last twice as long as any westerner would? A goodbye to a parting guest might become a…

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Lazy Africans: does my bum look big enough?

“Lazy Africans”,  would be an unsurprising comment from the comfort of the back seat of an air-conditioned, tourist’s 4×4 but it’s one you will hear from Africans themselves, which would indicate that it’s something that should not be dismissed quite so lightly. There can hardly be a country in the world entirely free of bone idle gits, all too happy to blag a free meal at someone else’s expense but is Africa a special case? The answer must undoubtedly go…

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Black kids and the white man

There are few pleasures in life more sublime than being able to make small children burst into tears or flee in abject terror at your mere presence. Such are the joys of travelling in areas of West Africa away from the tourist trail and you don’t have to go very far to do that given the limited number of people who make the effort to come here. These kinds  of reactions are usually an indication that the children have never…

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African beauty and the beast

The photo above of an advertising hoarding for a popular skin cream is, in some respects unremarkable: yet another product to beautify the skin. But this is West Africa and even a generous interpretation would we hard pressed to describe the model as even mixed race. If this was some lone, anomalous advert it would not be worth more than a brief mention but it is typical of marketing for beauty products in the region.  Of the dozens of ads I have seen,…

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Either end of the West African food chain

I have been checking out the local wildlife, not to look at, but to eat though, principally agouti, which is a like a huge plump rat but actually of the porcupine family and a common bush meat in West Africa. The first time I tried it there was an overpowering, rancid stench which was a tad off putting, but I later discovered that this was just the way some country folk preferred it: once killed you leave it sitting around…

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Rubbish roads

Public transport is a subject I have already given you a flavour of so the dereliction of its vehicles will come as no surprise but I feel obliged to cover some organisational issues with bus services. To most of us it would seem logical, when providing a regular coach service, to relate ticket sales to the quantity of seats on a coach and the departure times, but Cote d’Ivoire in particular has other ideas. Lets say the basic plan is…

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The West African waitress

There is a particularly sullen breed of West African waitress you will encounter that seems strangely common for a service industry. They move in a despondent slouch, to the plodding accompaniment of their flip flops. In a land where loads are borne on the head, walking, by necessity can only be done with grace and poise – I have even seen this maintained whilst hitching up skirts to have a slash by the roadside whilst balancing a fully loaded, huge…

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West African women – is it love or confusion?

You may well wonder why I would bother telling you that a 500ml sachet of water costs about 5p, but it helps to illustrate some typical daily economic issues,  particularly for many African women, so let me tell you about Cynthia. She lives with her young son in Kumasi, a city in western Ghana and has a room in a building seemingly populated almost entirely by other women without any visible partners. Lets just say the building won’t be appearing…

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