Street food is an everyday thing in Ghana. Morning, noon and night, grills on street corners boast the heady scent of things charring. In the neighbourhoods of Accra, pedestrians pound into work every day amid a swirling commotion, often stopping for breakfast at a street food cart. I’ve never been so excited to watch a commute as I was there; the rattling city waking up for work has a kind of cinematic cacophany of traffic, bustle and grill smoke.

On Palace Street, there is, according to my uncle Ernest, the best waakye in Accra. At 6am every morning, before his “home breakfast”, he joins a queue across the road (funny how convenience improves on flavour) and waits to fill a polythene bag with waakye stew of mixed meats in spiced tomatoes, with rice and beans, noodles, a boiled egg and shito (Ghana’s traditional hot pepper sauce made with smoked ground prawns). On the opposite corner, says Ernest, you can find the city’s best kelewele (diced and fried plantain in fresh ginger and grated onion), which he may run to for an afternoon snack.