He gently pushed me towards the booth!
I had never been through a strip search and believe me, they didn’t miss a single possibility when it came to searching.
If looks could have killed, Fred would have been toast on the spot! I could eat on the flight, I couldn’t even talk to him until we were nearly ready to land in Accra.
Once we cleared customs at the airport, we came outside and were accosted by at least a dozen young boys ranging from eight to twelve.
“Hold on tight to your bags!” Fred urged.
Waiting at the curb was a fairly new Volvo sedan. A man leaped out of the car and eagerly greeted Fred with a great handshake and slap on the back. He bowed slightly to me and smiled broadly as he took my luggage.
Fred and I ended up in the back seat and we road for about 20 minutes to an outlining area where there were very few homes. Fred’s compound was an acre with half fenced in with a 6′ foot adobe wall. Towards the back of the compound on top of the fence was a young man, clad in khakis, walking along the top, carrying a gun over his shoulder.