There was a digital clock in the bus. It told the time in red fonts. 1:15 Am.

I had set off on this journey high on excitement. Now my tank was low. The journey to Accra was becoming longer than a journey to an illusion.

“We are at Suhum….No….yes…say, fifteen to thirty minutes time we will be at the station…” a passenger was on a phone.

I listened with my eyes and ears. Accra, in fifteen to thirty minutes time, I shan’t miss it! It must be Accra he was talking of. A few passengers had alighted on the way. More passengers were alighting at various stops once in a while. We must be close. There was no doubt about it. I wouldn’t be asleep when we entered Accra. I wanted to see every piece of this last part of the journey.

I tried to fight sleep but clutched at hallucinations. Hallucinations, in broken films, soon joined together into a long sleep.

Suddenly, something roused me from sleep. Before I had time to find out what it was, I spotted something.

Galaxies of dazzling lights, glowing below the hill our bus descended. As we drew closer, the tiny white coals of fire scattered at the foot of the hill transformed into streets, lanes, shops, skyscrapers, and fountains. Everywhere we turned, beauties too many to behold, too many to take in. A tollbooth on the outskirts confirmed where we were now: Accra…