The widely-used home-made public service vehicles called trotros are often referred to as mammie wagons. This name derives from their role in transporting to and from the town and village markets the women traders who every day maintain the supply of food and essential basic commodities needed by the community at large. Everyone who knows Ghana entertains a stereotypical image of the market mammie and for many it is of a rotund, jolly middle-aged woman in a Victorian-style dress and a broad smile. If she is sometimes held to be a figure of fun it is partly due to her own good nature and apparently inexhaustible joy of living. Yet this cheerful demeanour is all the more remarkable when set against the background of the grim reality of life near the poverty line.

Just as in other walks of life, there are several levels at which the market mammie lives and works. The poorest does not even have a chosen spot where she can sit and sell her goods. She must walk the streets in the tropical sun, shaded only by her wares upon a large round metal tray, cushioned by a small cloth pad upon her head. At the outset each morning the tray may be too heavy for the woman to lift unaided, and it is said that her plea for help, ‘sowa me,’ or ‘lift (for) me,’ is the origin of the word ‘Suame,’ the name of the suburb of Kumasi famous for its large informal industrial area, Suame Magazine. Once her plea has been answered by a husband or son, and the itinerant trader has been launched on her way, she strides the city’s streets, holding her burden aloft with perfect deportment, often with a baby on her back, her figure symbolises tenacious defiance of life’s hardships and a determination to survive against all odds.

At the next level comes the market mammie who has an established seat upon the ground beside the road or on the border of the market. If she is fortunate, she may sit upon a small stool in the shade of a neem or mango tree. Here she can rest with her wares spread out before her, disturbed only by the occasional customer or the demands of her infant children. If she has no children of her own, she will no doubt be helping to tend the needs of her sister’s offspring. Infant care is a communal responsibility in this semi-commercial setting.

The beginning of envy in the market community comes with the acquisition of a market stall. Usually constructed with hardwood boards and a corrugated aluminium roof, the market stall lifts the owner to a new level of relative affluence and isolation. Now the trader can walk unburdened to her workplace. If she can keep her stall well stocked, the stall-holder can greatly increase her turnover and her profit. The secret of success comes from keeping her business accounts separate from her household budget, and resisting the demands of her extended family for loans to pay for schooling and medicine. This is a course that only the hard-hearted can take and most market mammies are not hard-hearted. So the turnover in market stalls is rather high.

Of the market mammies who succeed in business, some succeed spectacularly. The biggest traders and market queens grow to own fleets of transport vehicles or fishing boats, and some build hotels, retail stores and office blocks. Many of the road transport drivers or fishermen who must rely on these women for their livelihoods feel justified in painting ‘fear woman’ on their trotros or dugout canoes. The success of these big women is often attributed to black magic: deals with the devil involving blood sacrifices. On a more rational level, the local media sometimes reports court cases involving charges of drugs trafficking or the misappropriation of government-owned enterprises. On the rare occasion when one meets one of these ladies, even one who has retained her freedom, it is usually seen that she has exchanged her smile for a fixed scowl.

No, the archetypal market mammie is one who is still smiling. In spite of life’s hardships and repeated set-backs she still goes to church on Sundays, sings and dances with all the vigour of youth, and prays for better times to come. Her indomitable spirit, proud bearing and cheerful countenance make her a role model that many in more affluent communities might envy.

John Powell

To learn more about the intriguing story of the grassroots industrial revolution in the turbulent Ghana of the second half of the twentieth century, read John Powell’s novel The Colonial Gentleman’s Son or his non-fictional account The Survival of the Fitter. More details of these books and photographs of the informal sector artisans of Suame Magazine in Kumasi will be found on the following websites.

http://www.ghanabooksjwp.com

http://www.amazon.co.uk/s/ref=nb_sb_ss_i_0_28?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=the+colonial+gentleman%27s+son&sprefix=the+colonial+gentleman%27s+son.