Dear Osagyefo,
Some of my colleagues are starting to worry I’m disturbing your eternal rest. Apparently, they’re the ones who, on principle, just can’t agree with my epistles to you. But fear not, for I’ve had people in public actually chuckle at my scribbles, which, frankly, is all the encouragement I need to keep entertaining and, occasionally, informing.
My visit to the motherland last year revealed a truly improved airline industry. Kotoka International Airport had received a facelift so impressive, even I, a decade-long expatriate, was genuinely wowed. This newfound admiration, however, hit a snag. A customs officer confiscated my passport. My crime? My lack of a yellow fever certificate. He demanded I go get jabbed or face the grim fate of detention.
Then, a plot twist! A lady behind me, equally yellow-fever-certificate-less, was waved through, practically skipping as she bid me a cheerful “why are you still here?” I told the office I can’t have the vaccine because do not eat pork. He reluctantly caved after a chat with his superior, who, in a moment of pure, unadulterated exasperation, bellowed, “Na prako dee, efa vaccine ho ben?!” (What in the world does pork have to do with a vaccine?!). Some vaccines, including yellow fever and flu have pork-derived gelatin in them.
And don’t even get me started on the airport parking. It’s all digital now, fancy and modern. Yet, there are still gentlemen hired to, I presume, ask drivers if the digital system is actually, you know, working. It’s like we’ve embraced technology but still need a human to confirm it’s not just a fancy brick.
The next morning, boarding a domestic flight from Accra to Kumasi, I encountered what can only be described as a marvel of aeronautical engineering. As we shuffled onto the tarmac, I spotted a robust rope anchoring the aircraft’s propeller to its tires. Yes, a rope. Apparently, it was there to prevent the fan from moving. A short flight it was, but my mind kept spinning, trying to fathom a scenario where an aircraft needs a glorified leash to keep its propeller in check.
The flight to Kumasi was brief, with the pilot pre-warning us of turbulence before landing. What truly tickled my fancy, though, was when the very same pilot, on my return flight to Accra, used the exact same phrase. It made me wonder: are these planes just so seasoned that “turbulence” is merely their polite way of saying “brace yourselves, we’re landing”?
Osagyefo, if there are even any regulations for the airway industry, or if it’s all just a grand game of ‘how much can we charge for minimal effort?’ You can fly from Chicago to Dallas and back, a two-hour airborne flight for less than the cost of a mere 30-minute hop from Accra to Kumasi, complete with complimentary turbulence
Until next time,
Ato_KD
