Sunday Morning Surprise

Not long after Mr. and Mrs. O settled into their house in a relatively quiet and non-descript neighbourhood, they discovered one of its many quirks.

On Sunday at approximately 5:45AM, Mr. and Mrs. O heard a noise. It started like a faint heartbeat and started to steadily grow in a rhythmic fashion: drums banging, bells tapping, voices chanting. What could possibly be happening? Was this a religious experience (overzealous pentecostals)? A political demonstration (remember the start of Hotel Rwanda)?

Greatly disturbed, they jumped out of their beds and nervously peered through the iron bars of their window to try and get a view of the street over their compound walls. (If it were the rapture or civil war, at least they would be fortified)

What they saw was unexpected: joggers. Lots of them. Of all shapes, sizes and sexes. And they were going for a light jaunt down the street, merrily singing and banging away. Then two hours later, they came back the other way.

From what was gathered in the subsequent investigation, this is a running group that gathers early in the morning and jogs down towards the beach as a critical mass. Some have even seen obrunis running with them.

Now they are part of the weekly routine. Some mornings they are ridiculously loud and wake up Little Miss (who wakes up Mr. O, who enjoys his weekend sleeping in) and some mornings they are barely heard, passing through dreams seamlessly.


Addendum: This phenomenon is actually quite prevalent in Accra. One morning catching an early flight, Mr. O saw the main highway filled with runners. For young males, it is an opportunity to train or warm up before an 8AM match, play a little footy and then skip off to the usual marathon church service for the day. So Sundays are not so lazy in Ghana after all...