By Edem Kelman
All around the city there are lives, crossing and intersecting. One day you might find a balloon on the floor, look at it long and hard, and ask: Who did it once belong to? Whose face did it light up? Where did it take flight and when did it land? What joy was it once commemorating, now only to be trodden on and wheeled over between alleyways and curbs?
Robinah Kirondé, Keren Osei