People do it all the time- Observations of Ghana .2

We call it the Death Ride
The first drive in this country was from the airport to where we are staying in a place called Koforidua. We travel in what the locals call a 'tro tro'. We pile in with our bags and suitcases; four volunteer teachers, a doctor, the project organiser, the driver and his two nephews. The driver takes us on a journey up long winding roads. There's hardly any traffic as it's now about 2am. He speeds up this mountain, as this can't be just a hill. It's black on either side. Eventually we can see the city of Accra laid almost beneath us. It resembles a black blanket with fire flies resting all over it. It's wonderful, daunting, but it's below and I'm worried that if this f*** ing driver doesn't slow down we are all doing to roll down there in this tro tro.
  I totally get that the drivers of countries know their roads. I have had friends that relay very similar stories of when they have been abroad; Drivers driving too close to cliff edges and how they thought they too were not going to make it. But people do die don't they. In this very country the son of one of my mum's old church friend died on the road. Probably this road.  My brother was meant to come on this trip but couldn't make it. I'm thinking it is so that my mum doesn't loose two of her children in one fell swoop!
I've just come from a turbulent flight and my constitution isn't as strong as it used to be. I want my sons. I want to be in my manky flat in South London, with T playing Cris Brown and Giggs on his blackberry. I swear, I'll never moan again!
      "Driver. Can you slow down please" I demand rather than ask. "I think I'm going to be sick". He slows down just a tad. I'm not going to be sick at all but I desperately need this guy to slow down. Akouswa's back is straight. She is holding on to the seat in front of her. We are here to do good in this country. Why the **** can't this idiot slow down? We swerve around another corner. Who does that? And another. It's foggy, it's dark for goodness sake. This guy can't see oncoming traffic because of the layout of the road and he is speeding. I am in total disbelief! I put my head in my palms and promise: If I get home safely from this  trip- including the flight back home- I swear I'll go to church the following Sunday.
Eventually we got to the house; in under an hour and a half when really it should have taken over two. I have been shaken and stirred and there is an undercurrent of fear when I get into taxis and tro tros in this country. But what can I do eh? Gidi (Trust)