ONLY on African soil will a taxi driver ease his car onto the sidewalk and calmly announce that he has run out of fuel.

Possibly only in Ghana's capital Accra will a taxi driver suggest that he walks you the last two kilometres to your hotel on a dark, warm night and still expect you to pay the full fare - unless of course you know your rights and demand that he accepts a reduced fare.

And I am probably the only silly African woman who will venture out alone in a foreign country on a dark night when a serial killer is roaming the streets of Accra.

I had started off on a very sensible note. We had decided to have supper at a beach front restaurant with a couple of girls and were hoping for a night of dancing to high life music. But when we arrived at the restaurant and found the toilets grubby and generally in a not-so-clean state, I decided I would head back to the safety of the hotel.

This meant that I had to take a taxi back alone. Just before we got to the hotel, the taxi driver told me in a drawling voice that he would have to walk me the rest of the way. Only then did I realise I could actually be in the serial killer's car.

I fumbled in my bag and took out my can of mace ready for any possible attack. Feeling braver, I agreed to walk and, as I started to feel more confident, I turned the driver into my tour guide, asking him questions about the various buildings.

As the night was still very young, I ventured out of the hotel again soon after a hot and spicy chicken stew served with yams and a thick vegetable soup.

This time, I just asked the taxi driver to take me to any place where I could dance.

On Wednesday nights, Ghanaian night life is quite sizzling and you bump into all these charming men dancing gracefully with their well-dressed women.

Ghanaians are so full of life when they dance they do it with so much passion you would think their lives depended on it.

I visited two family bars (shebeens) where I had a taste of the local brandy - a scorcher. After that, I found myself at The Old Timers, a nightclub with vast "acres" of dancing space.

I was alone but I never felt lonely for I was on the dance floor learning new dancing skills. I moved my body to high life music until the early hours of the morning, when sanity finally prevailed. I had to catch at least 40 winks before my Thursday training programme.

Ghanaians are generally very courteous and friendly people. Their men are very charming but, like other brothers on the African continent, they would lie, cheat or steal to get a woman.

A Ghanaian sister told me after a dance that some of their men had wives in two or more parts of the country because they always lied about their marital status.

She pointed out some 50 or 60-year-old "married bachelors" who were putting some very young women through their romantic paces.

One sister even claimed that not only did she get the shock of her life, but she was certain that she would be off sex for a very long time.

When you are in a foreign country and have plenty of time on your hands during the evenings, there is always the urge to do something new and hopefully exciting. A group of sisters went out to sample a striptease at a night spot in Accra.

I have seen both men and women strip to music but it has never been my kind of fun. Now, these girls were sampling this for the first time. They were expecting to see hunks with bodies or muscles to die for, only to catch a very long glimpse of a pasty-white, ageing bum and other "bits and pieces" of a white brother who needs to spend more time in the gym.

Men who patronise striptease joints do so because the girls who strip at those clubs are professionals with sexy bodies that will make any hot-blooded man drool. Women too want to drool over well-packaged bodies.

Air travel is a very good experience and money permitting, people should do it at least once in their lifetime.

Some brothers and sisters who have never travelled by air are usually worried about what they will eat so they pack some fruits or a bowl of rice and chicken stew to eat on the plane.

People with inquiring minds rarely ever get embarrassed. They will always be a step ahead because they will have the comfort of knowing the expected social etiquette.

There have been cases of some people flying to Europe or America who almost die of hunger because they think the food offered them on the plane is for sale.

A Zimbabwean sister travelling from Accra recently had the chilling experience of seating next to a Nigerian brother who had sex on the mind. Conversation was struck between the two and the brother told the sister he was very attracted to her.

He said he was working in Greece and really missed "real" black women. He wanted the sister to change her flight plans and join him for six months of a groovy life, which, he hastily added, could lead to a life-long union.

But he wanted to know if she enjoyed sex, after which he told the sister in bragging tones that he had a very big and satisfying instrument that could pleasure her and deliver her to unimaginable heights.

I was seated right in front of these two so I was privy to most chunks of the conversation and when the brother started talking about being well-endowed, I almost laughed out loud, but luckily managed to stifle the urge.

The sister, who was still dumbfounded by this sex-mad brother, filled me in on some of the juicy bits that I missed, but those are censored.

Being a very polite girl and stuck in a plane seat, the sister stoically sat through this extraordinary verbal sexual onslaught.

Still on that sexual note, I do not write the headlines for this column. They are written by the Financial Gazette's sub-editors who happen to be quite creative with words, hence the horny headline last week.

Some of you asked why I had chosen that headline and my answer is that only the sub-editors have that creative licence.

It is really good to be back home. Until next week, mind those humps and those who can still afford tampons and know which shops still have them in stock, please let us know.

More love!