I wrote this while on 3rd Mainland Bridge, inspired by the thoughts of what could possibly be going through the minds of the inhabitants of Makoko, those shanties on the river just before you get to the island. What do they really aspire to? They live just on the edge of affluence, just next to one of the most expensive locations in Africa. Recently read in a magazine, some of the island dwellers, visiting Makoko to hand out food and second hand clothes. While noble, these do not empower them for a future. The futility of these short sighted gestures must be maddening.This poem tries to view the situation through the eyes of a Makoko child. Enjoy.
I see them come and go,
yet in my mind I know.
Though they come looking meek,
my future still is bleak.
Perhaps its to calm their ailing hearts,
they give us all their little grants.
The poverty which eats me is a monster,
nothing could be more sinister.
Not words, or food, or fake comforts,
but hope, a future, my comfort.
I see them come and go,
yet in my mind I know.
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| Pic: Google Images |
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| Pic: allphotolondon.com |
