Serving Banku in Accra
Sunlight blasts across the corrugated zinc roof of a roadside chop bar in Accra, illuminating a chaotic spread of condensation-slicked glass bottles filled with bright red pepper sauce and yellow palm oil. A vendor in a faded blue smock leans over a stainless steel counter, using a metal ladle to portion steaming banku into a black bowl, while a striped blue-and-white towel hangs loosely from a rusted hook nearby. The air shimmers with heat haze, blurring the sharp edges of stacked plastic stools and a pile of fresh plantains. In the background, the blurred motion of a blue and white tro-tro bus passes by, its windows reflecting the harsh midday glare against the vibrant, cluttered storefront.
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