By Noah Nelson
One of the most crucial elements in effective state building is that of transit. Public, private, rail, road – each plays a role in the economy, connectivity, and functionality of the working state. In Ghana, my colleagues and I have seen (and used) many different modes of transportation as we have navigated our way around the nation.
The most common form of transit in Ghana is the trotro: hollowed-out Sprinter vans that have ‘Mates’ hanging out the window, banging the side of the car to let the driver know when to stop. Over 70% of commuters in Accra use trotros as their primary mode of transportation in the city—so I have too.
The routes aren’t mapped on the side like in American subways or buses, so the mate yells the final destination out the window as they arrive at each bus stop. “Accra! Accra! Accra!” and “Medina! Medina! Medina!” are what I have to listen for on my way to and from work.
I also took a new electric bus when I went to Makola Market for a TV3 piece I was working on. The bus was called ‘SmartTransyt’. They’re privately owned and new to Ghana, but the government is making investments into sustainable transit as well, commissioning and launching 100 electric buses of their own in November 2024.
These buses are much cleaner, more spacious, and more comfortable than the trotro. At a comparative price, it could be a potential alternative for, or at least supplement to, Ghana’s future transit needs.
On my way to work on July 21, 2025, I took a rather lawless route to work, hopping on the back of a motorcycle with a local. Currently, it is illegal to use motorcycles for commercial transit, but the current administration is working to revise the legal framework to support their use in that case. It’s definitely not the safest; we wove through traffic, sped down the sidewalk, and I wore a helmet that was probably too big to keep me safe in the event of a fall.
But I’ll be damned if it wasn’t fast. I arrived at work 45 minutes early.
In much of our time together, our cohort has been blessed with the gift of a private bus and a very skilled driver—shoutout Clement! We’ve taken it on trips to Cape Coast, Kumasi, and next week we will go to the Volta region. But in these trips, it has become clear what we Westerners take so innocently for granted: interstate and intercontinental travel.
Take, for example, I90, the highway which stretches from Seattle to Boston. The average speed limit is 65-70 MPH, and it traverses the entire country. Stretches of road are rarely down, and both the accident and fatality rates are staggeringly low when compared to miles traveled.
In Ghana, the road systems have been borderline oppressive compared to the States. The trip to Cape Coast took around 4 hours to travel 91 miles. To Kumasi, it took just over six hours to travel 155 miles. And it wasn’t because we were passing through dense city traffic. Sure, there were villages and cities along the way, which is to be expected, but a majority of the miles were spent on open highways which had exposed rocks and potholes littering almost every stretch.
What struck me most about the roads in Ghana was the complete disregard for the road system connecting the major cities. Almost as soon as we exited Accra proper on both trips, we were met with dust storms, construction, and rocky dirt roads. This not only harms economic output for the government and businesses, but it also disincentivizes travel for average Ghanaians, leaving a populace to be confined within their respective city and ostensibly ‘stuck’ within the ‘system,’ to use overplayed terms. It is quite detrimental psychologically, one could imagine, and quite limiting to the Ghanaian ideation of, and planning for, a better future.
Still, the current administration has continuously promised a 6-lane expressway between Kumasi and Accra, slated for completion by the end of 2029. President Muhama said it, “…will not only cut travel time significantly but will also open up new opportunities for trade, tourism, and regional integration.” Likely the truth if realized. One continues to hope for the best.