Life in Freetown, a rooftop dinner

Driving in Freetown is quite an experience. Whether you are actually moving or not. The Clocktower is the central point of congestion

As we slowly wind our way through the narrow streets of Freetown in a Mercy Ships Land Rover bakkie (that is a pickup for any American’s or a truck for the Brits), I wonder why I did not convince my friend to just catch an okada. These motor bike taxis are great for nipping in and out of the Freetown traffic and reducing the time for the 6km trip which is often more than an hour to a mere twenty minutes. The agonizingly slow traffic threads past the clock tower, the single circle that every vehicle going through town must pass, and into the Sannie Abacha street market.

A typical Freetown street corner

Lourens hoots at the pedestrians and the crowds part like the Red Sea before Moses’s staff. The sidewalks and road are choked with vendors selling shoe polish, fishing nets, soap and second hand clothes, all yelling their prices through loudspeakers, or songs. When another vehicle comes the wrong way down the one way, the vendors hurriedly pull their wares out of the vehicles way as our side mirrors brush past each other.

Siaka Steven one of the main Freetown Streets with the Cotton Tree in the background.

We finally reach the cotton tree and it is then that I am glad I am in a closed vehicle and not on a motorbike. The Cotton Tree is huge and has been the centre of Freetown since the settlement was first established by the British in 1791. It is dusk and clouds of huge fruit bats fly out from the protective shadows of the tree and surrounding gardens. As they go they pepper unlucky pedestrians, motorists and the crazy guy who sleeps there in his wheel barrow with guano. Ignoring the roads to the parliament buildings, the government warf and the referral hospital, we continue down along Siaka Stevens road and stop outside of Raju’s Electricals, just up the road from Choithram’s supermarket.

Pravesh is an Indian man who has been living in Sierra Leone since 1991. When he found out I was from Durban and enjoyed a good curry he invited me and a friend around for dinner at his place. Walking up the flight of stairs to his rooftop apartment by torch light, we had to take care not to trip on the uneven tiling. On the edge of the rooftop lined with white concrete pillars our table overlooked the sprawling, noisy Freetown streets. With the Cotton Tree and parliament buildings on one side, the national Stadium on the other and the silhouettes of peninsular mountains as a backdrop, this was definitely on of the best dinner views in Freetown.

Pravesh’s wife brings out some spicy finger snacks. She is a slim, short, kreol lady with a pretty, welcoming face. Enjoying the flavour of the spicy snacks, conversation rolls through various topics. How Freetown has changed over the last 20 years, business, economics, family, marriage, politics, diamonds and war. It turns out that Pravesh and his brother owned an electronics store in Freetown. When the city was ransacked in 1997, the fighters could not get through the shops 1/2” steel shutters, so they launched an RPG into it and then shot up the shot, destroying everything. This happened again in 1999. The second time this happened Pravesh was fortunate enough to be back in India looking for a wife. His mother had lined up 40 prospective wives for him to meet. He rejected 39 and the one he chose rejected him. The difference in culture is very interesting.

Just after tucking into the goat masala with bhakri bread, a church marching band came booming down the main street below. The band was followed by a procession of five trucks. Each truck had a massive sound system on the back of the vehicle, each sound system had different music blasting out and each a crowd of people dancing, jumping singing and shouting along. It was similar to a super club with different dance floors, except you don’t have to walk to the next dance floor, you just stand on the side of the road and let it come to you. Pravesh smiles and says his roof top is the perfect spot to watch anything happening in Freetown as everything goes down that road. Whether it is dancing devils, clouds of fruit bats, the presidential procession, booming church bands, bikes smashing into vehicles, or just Mercyships driving from the team house to the ship, he can see it all from his roof top.

The meal is finished off with a few pieces of papadum bread and we head back to the ship, feeling very privileged to have had the opportunity of seeing a bit of Freetown from a locals perspective.