WELL, THAT WAS HAWKWARD by Makenna Crocker

We’ve all experienced or at least know of the awful pushiness and uncomfortable aggression presented by door-to-door salesmen. The peace of your quiet home is disturbed by the ring of your doorbell which starts a chain reaction of your toy poodle yapping at the door, your cat jumping off your lap and the neighborhood dogs joining in a chorus of barking. You open the door to see all this disturbance was to be caused by an eager man, eyebrows raised a little too high, complete with a crisply pressed tie and magazines in his hand. He gives you “the speech” he’d likely given 37 times that day and forces the catalog and pen into your personal bubble. You try not to crack, saying you aren’t interested, but his pushy persistence either leaves you guilt ridden or empty walleted!

Now imagine that man on the street, standing outside your car as you sit at the stoplight. He persistently taps on your window and you hear muffled words while you try to keep a straight face. Picture dozens of other salesmen swarming your car at each stop, sometimes putting their hands into your car to show you the items they are selling, not stopping until you pay them or drive away with their arm still in your window.

Welcome to the life of a hawker!

Lining the streets of Accra are several men and women of various ages (even children) selling food, drinks, toys and miscellaneous items.  They are right there at your car when you stop, ready to hand you your item in exchange for just up to a few cedis. This service can be very convenient when on road trips or stuck in traffic and needing a little pick-me-up. Typically, you just flag down a hawker, say how much you’re willing to pay and grab your item from the basket atop their head. This, like being a door-to-door salesperson is not a job for everyone and while they make my blood pressure rise, I commend them for their serious devotion and skill; oftentimes they will stare you down, their faces pressing the glass of your window, never letting their eyes shift from yours.

Unless interested in their miscellaneous items, most Ghanaians sit in traffic with their faces forward, never acknowledging the hawkers. Some local Uber drivers have expressed their complaints about hawkers, stating they are constantly running between cars and acting as hazards to traffic. While it is all so new and overwhelming to me, I cannot fully say I appreciate the forceful nature of the hawkers (although I never like retail workers when pushing for commission sales either) but I can say that I do admire their ability to keep a poker face and I have been working on matching that on my drives to and from work. Since I feel guilty completely ignoring them I just give them a smile, say no thank you and look forward while they stare at the side of my face for a solid 20 seconds to be sure I don’t change my mind.

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