A True Story: By AccraEvents.GH
What was supposed to be an exciting night of bar hopping and enjoyment turned into one of my worst nights out in Accra. My heart skipped a beat. Time froze. I was dumbfounded. In all my years roaming the busy streets of Accra, this had never happened - not to me. The streets of Accra had always been my safe space; Not anymore. I was attacked in Accra by a street parking guy.
It was 10PM on a calm Thursday in Accra when I decided to do something active with my night. I was snug and cozy in my woolen blanket and didn't want to leave the comfort of my couch; but I was equally content and infectious with joy. "Why not share this positivity with the world?" I thought. I unraveled my cocoon of warmth and happiness, and got ready. Doubt me if you will, but anyone who knows me can confirm that it takes me 30 minutes or less to prep for a normal night out. So just like that, I was ready to go.
On this particular night, I had no plan; but Garage Lounge was right next door so I decided to start with their unique mixology event, Pour Decisions, and take things from there. Around 10:40PM, my homie Morrie and I were seated at a table near the bar, experimenting with the foreign ingredients and creating a poison that would make even the most seasoned Juju Man blush. On this night, the base alcohol was Whiskey. Morrie doesn't drink alcohol at all, and I have a taste aversion to dark liquor (ie I'm on a strict Tequila and Vodka diet); so we were a handicapped pairing made in hell. This didn't demotivate us from concluding our devils potion of a cocktail and arguing with the judges that we had been ripped off.
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After a few hours of jovial banter and games, we laughed and danced our way into the night. Still aimless and planless, we directed ourselves towards Tequila Thursdays at Alley Bar. It was a haven - the crowd was sparse but energetic because DJ SlyBeats was on a mission. We absorbed his fantastic live set for a half hour then proceeded with our bar hopping agenda. Our next stop was Front/Back.
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The elite clientele of Front/Back were out in droves for Sister Deborah's live performance. It was Tempo Thursday and the Uncle Obama singer was the live guest artiste for the night. We discussed old memories with new friends and shared new memories with old ones. Soon enough, it was past 2:30AM so we did the next logical thing to do on a Friday morning... we went down the road to Mood Bar.
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With sets from the likes of NY DJ and DJ Isoe, Skankin' Thursday was in full swing. This was my playground so I played till about 4AM. At this point you're probably wondering what the problem was. I've shared vague details of an incredibly epic Thursday night thus far, so what am I complaining about? This had been a fun-filled night of bar hopping and enjoyment. At 4AM on a Friday morning, the night is over... how could things possibly go downhill from here?
Just like the above train of thought, I debated wrapping up for the night. But those 'Pour Decisions' kicked in and advised us to make one more stop at Ace Tantra. We were high on the vibes of an epic night and nothing could bring us down, or so we thought. Why not end our night on the highest possible note? I drove to Oxford Street from Mood Bar and made that second left turn onto Trauma Avenue.
The street was unusually quiet which was understandable because it was a week-night. This should have been a sign but I guess I can't read; so I missed it. Still teetering on the fence about whether to stay or leave, I skillfully whipped my manual little fuel-efficient blue-berry into reverse like a Fast & Furious stunt-woman, and parallel parked so professionally, even Lewis Hamilton would've wept.
After turning off the engine, a street parking boy (aka Kwashey boy) popped up out of nowhere and demanded I move 1 inch forward (a common extortion tactic). My parking job was immaculate so I knew what this was about- this isn't my first rodeo. Unwilling to engage in his street politics, I gave a thumbs up and Morrie jokingly followed with "you weren't here when we came. We already parked all by ourselves oo". The Kwashey boy didn't take too kindly to Morrie pointing out this glaring fact and demanded that we leave 'his' parking section.
"His" parking section? Kwashey boys don't have parking sections. They assist wherever there is space. I knew immediately that this was BS and that he was playing to the assumed ignorance of women. I decided to wait it out. "Other patrons are sure to pull up for Raven Thursday; he'll get over himself and we'll all move on" I thought. I decided to re-tie my messy dreads with this open opportunity. 2 minutes later I'm startled by loud banging on my windows and aggressive rattling of my door handles.
I presume that in those 2 minutes, his ego entered the chat, and he couldn't fathom why these feeble women didn't just do what he demanded. To those thinking "oh don't pull the woman card here", ask yourselves, how many guys has this happened to? (Exactly!). The reaction was completely disproportionate and unwarranted. He circled the car and banged on every door and window, while simultaneously repeating that we leave his parking space.
My heart skipped a beat. Time froze. I was dumbfounded. In all my years roaming the busy streets of Accra, this had never happened. I wasn't sure how to react. I was genuinely scared, uncomfortable and confused. This Kwashey boy physically attacked my car, hurled threats and profanities at us, and made menacing gestures towards us for a full 22 minutes. In all that time, not a single passer by stepped in. I wasn't expecting a hero, but I also wasn't expecting complete indifference.
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For 22 minutes, we were harassed, berated, terrorized and quite frankly, traumatized by this street urchin. He threatened "if you get down from this car and go in the club, I will break all your windows and spoil all your tires. If you are a woman, leave this car and see something" (for non-Ghanaian readers, this essentially means, if you think you've got balls, leave this car here and see what happens). He rained a thunderstorm of other "warnings" to that effect for the full 22 minutes.
My millennial self sat there and took this abuse for 18 - 20 good minutes. The trickling of cold AC air across my arm woke me up to the reality of this situation and kicked my inner Gen Z into action. I pulled out my phone and started recording (still disappointed that I didn't start recording sooner). Shortly after my inner Gen Z came out, Morries Ga-Adangbe ancestors also unleashed her inner banku powers and she began matching his insults and threats. This was when passers by stepped in and told her to stop responding because it's 'unladylike'! With a random street vendor quipping "oh but that's how women are" (in twi)... Defending herself was unladylike but the prior verbal attacks and scare tactics from the idiot outside was no issue at all. We were really supposed to just keep taking his sh*t.
Understandably, this riled her up even more (because WTF) and things got explosive. The Kwashey boy taunted Morrie "if you like get down from this car. I'll slap you ehn". Morrie takes him up on his offer and lunges out of the car so he can honor his word.
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Things kept escalating and the Kwashey boy, feeling emasculated, picked a huge cement block and attempted to hit Morrie in the head with it. More bystanders finally picked up on the danger levels of his bruised ego and the unstable situation, pulled him away and scolded him. He justified his behavior saying Morrie doesn't respect.
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Here, I was no longer interested in going inside the club, but bystanders who joined the commotion insisted that we go inside and not let the Kwashey boy 'win'. I didn't mind him winning whatever prize was at stake: it was 4:30AM. But the bystanders were relentless. They made it clear that they won't go in without us. For the safety of my car and my own sanity, I moved to a different parking spot before joining them to try and salvage what was left of our night. Inside the club I was too tense and uncomfortable. I left after 10 minutes.
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When I get to my car, true to his word, my tires were slashed and the coward was nowhere to be found. What was an exciting night of bar hopping and enjoyment had turned into one of my worst night out in Accra. I recorded this and headed to the Oxford Street Vulcanizer to get some new tires then I headed home, and lamented my woes on my SnapChat before heading to bed.
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I woke up to a flurry of messages of love, support and concern. I also woke up to news that the Ace Tantra team had swiftly picked up the assailant and he was being held at the police station awaiting my verdict on how I'd like to proceed.
Now at the station to decide on what to do with the hoodlum who swore up and down that he did nothing and that we just got to Ace, beat him and left 😂🤣. He also vehemently denied any connection to the destruction of my tires. I showed the officer the video footage I took and he had seen enough. He encouraged that we file a report and press charges. After the report, the rascal's older brother showed up, pleading on his knees that we let his younger brother go because he didn't mean any of it. He had a sob story about this being his brother's last chance before their parents kick him out for misbehavior. After prolonged begging, we had the ragamuffin issue is an apology and didn't press charges.
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Though this happened outside the establishment (within what considered their unofficial parking), the owner of Ace invited us back. As a show of good faith, we mustered all our courage and went back the next night. Shout out to Ace for how they handled the incident, and a separate shout out for their unique, smooth, problem-solving liquor 😉.
Full video coming soon on YouTube. Full narration on Podcast
At least once a week I go out in Accra and wonder around with no particular plan. I let the wind take me to a good time. The streets of Accra had always been my safe space till then, but not anymore. What was supposed to be an exciting night of bar hopping and enjoyment turned into one of my worst nights out in Accra, and has now become a huge source of new fears.
Take care of yourselves and live your best lives till my next article Because Life is for the Living. See more content on our SOCIAL MEDIA and send us reviews & footage of your fun memories in Accra!