A day before I had to pack bag and baggage to return to my base, I called the technician, whose assistance I had sought to get my laptop fixed, to enquire if I could come over to pick it up. My laptop would simply not run fast enough; not even when I was opening a Microsoft Word document. So, his technical assistance had been requested days earlier.
My other half and I had been in town running some errands and were close to his shop, so I thought that was the most expedient thing I could do, since I was leaving town just the following day. His shop was at the Kwame Nkrumah Circle. It was a public holiday and he had decided to take a break from work. But on calling him, he obliged to come over to his shop and get me sorted.
It was a delightful traffic-free journey through town – one which was the stark opposite of what we experienced days earlier when we were crossing over from Kwame Nkrumah Circle to Korle-Bu Teaching Hospital. That one was a total nightmare for me especially so when I had lived in a town which seemed to me the most trafficless town that I have ever encountered just the past year. I must say what I noticed at Kwame Nkrumah Circle was a battle of who-was-fastest-or-better-at defensive-or-better-still-aggressive driving. It was another story at the turn of the roundabout or, as some call it, the traffic circle.
We got to Kwame Nkrumah Circle way earlier than the technician could arrive because, clearly, he was relaxed at home and calling him over meant resetting his day. He obviously had to do a thing or two before setting off and we expected to do a lot of waiting. We got a parking space at the Vodafone office premises and decided to while away time by walking up the Odo Rice road and then to the Tiptoe lane. It did not look anything like a holiday break for most of the many cell phone/technology shop owners and attendants. They were down to business like any other day. We walked into one shop where they sold a particular make of phones and their accessories. I needed a screen protector for my phone. Indeed, these phones we use have become items we service almost every time even more than ourselves [shhh…aside].
There were about four young men in the shop. They were discussing away a television dating reality show. One was simply mad about a young man who asked a potential date how old she was and went further to tell this lady that she looked like his mother. Another expressed some reservations about participating in such reality shows. He could not fathom how one could simply decide to take someone on a date by looking at their vital statistics or asking who she was and what she does for a living. He thought such questions are too superficial. He also claimed whatever anyone said in response to such questions could be blatant lies and so making decisions based on those were just untenable. He thought that programme could only be beneficial to persons who want to use that stage to build a massive social media following for themselves and their businesses. This could potentially yield them generous financial returns but obviously not a serious relationship. I thought he had a point.
I once watched a television reality show which brought individuals together to get married on first sight. I found it an interesting programme because each pair is put together by a team of psychologists, relationship experts and counsellors for reasons concluded on after separate discussions and other evaluative activities with individual participants. These experts follow the newly married couple(s) throughout the first few months of their marriage and provide expert counselling and direction for them to adjust and know each other.
It is a careful personality match and was largely considered a social experiment. What I found with the episodes I watched was that even the most promising couples fell apart. In an episode a husband went bananas when he realised his woman was using the platform to increase her social media following (for obvious reasons). In that same episode the woman had a conversation with someone and said to the person that she was going to take part in another reality show when this particular one came to an end. Talk of motivation! That was the day I knew the marriage would not work. And it did not. This is the conclusion I came to: there is, possibly, no golden formula to make a marriage work. The probable potent key in marriage is compromise. We left the shop having contributed to the discussion and making it even more alive. It was a conversation filled with bursts of laughter and strong sentiments of about six men and one woman.
I placed a call to my “consultant†to find out if he was anywhere close. He wasn’t. It would take him about an hour more to get to the shop. He obviously had not left home. We couldn’t just keep walking so we decided to go to the Circle Mall, where his shop was located, to wait for him. That was where more drama unfolded.
We entered the mall through the tiptoe entrance. After taking about five steps in, we were greeted with a treacherous, coarse sharp sand blowing right into our eyes. It came right from a construction project that was ongoing up the block of shops on the right. It was an obvious add on to the already existing shops. Workmen were busily removing the wood that had been used to cast the concrete that would hold the next floor to be added. They could not be bothered by the commuters in and out of the mall. The woods were carelessly thrown from the top without considerations for those walking down there. There was everything wrong with how they were managing the project.
We got ourselves a bench to sit on to wait for the technician to arrive. This was at the Orion entrance of the mall. There was a seemingly tight security to ensure that everyone entering wore a face mask which I found very laudable. If one did not have a face mask on, they had the opportunity to purchase one from a woman who was selling some right at the entrance. In fact, she had hung a few on the gate. That was perhaps her billboard, for all we know! That was a strategic market positioning there! She couldn’t have definitely missed one of the seven Ps (Place) in the marketing mix as well. But interesting things happened – what I called more spectacle.
I could categorise the people walking into or through the mall into three (some were passing through while others were coming there for particular purposes) – those who were compliant with mask-wearing and were readily allowed in (very few); those who had the masks on but inappropriately wore them (very few); and those who did not have masks on at all and who had to be directed (not compelled) to buy one and wear before being allowed to enter (multitude). I probably should have stated this earlier: even without recourse to scientific principles of data collection and analysis, I dare say about nine out of ten of the people in circle did not were masks on that day. I guess this may not be any different any other day.
Let me tell you about those who were not wearing masks but wanting to use that space. The norm was for the security person to raise a staff/bar that he held in his hand to block them from entering. This is where it gets fascinating. He does not utter a word. He points at the face masks hanging on the gate and directs them to the woman (the seller) seated right at the entrance, so they purchase one. The woman readily tells them the price. Surely, this security man was giving the woman some good business. The “law-abiding†ones would simply pull out money from their pockets and buy a mask, the staff is let down and they walk. That was not the end of the drama for this group of people. For some, immediately they were let in the mall, they either removed their masks or pulled their masks down to the chin for “comfortâ€. Some would also hang it sideways on their cheeks and off they proceeded.
Some did not have masks on, but they had them in their pockets! When stopped, they would pull their masks from their pockets, wear them and walk. For others they would pull out what looked like a cloth face mask right at the entrance. The security man, convinced that it is a mask, would allow them in, even though they had not placed them in position. They would walk in only for us to notice that it was a handkerchief and not a mask. Soon after they enter, they would put it right back in their pockets and proceed. Others wouldn’t yield to any pressure, so they refuse to buy any mask, they turn back, possibly with the intent to use another route to get to where they want to go to. They just did not want to buy mask for whatever reason. There are also these groups of people who managed to utter something to the security person, and he would let his bar down to let them in, while others get there “unmasked†and they were allowed in without any sign of unwillingness on the part of the security person. We only wondered what made the rule to be applied to them differently.
While we observed these goings-on, we made fun out of it. In fact, passers-by would watch us crack up and we would literally see question marks on their faces. But this speaks volumes to how careless we can be even in the face of a deadly virus lurking around the corner to make minced meat of us. Wearing a mask in public is one of the good we can do for ourselves (at least, that is what scientists tell us). Why would we want to compromise our health in one of the most difficult times of our lives? Consider the economic hardship we have to content with and the burden of a health crisis and know that you just cannot let any virus cause you additional “wahala†(distress).Â
The security team at the Circle Mall is trying their level best for us to comply with one of the protocols that health experts recommend could save our lives amid a disease outbreak. What they do there is in our interest, but it does not seem we have our own interest at heart. What else can I say? Maybe the mobile phones that are brought daily for repairs to the various shops at Circle and its environs are getting more care and attention than the owners themselves. Or is it the case of mask fatigue we have on our hands already?
Now, just in case you are wondering, the laptop technician came; he sorted things out for us; we left with lingering giggles and some take-home lessons.
-----
Theodora is a lecturer at UPSA and a postdoctoral research follow at Rhodes University, South Africa.
Â