There is something almost sinful. About the indifference I feel. When I pass by another able bodied beggar. Bloody opportunists.
There is something almost careless. About the pull that I feel. To enter that buka and order that succulent looking ogufe. Bacterial nutrition.
There is something hilarious. About the flooded potholed streets I bounce across. Every time I drive through one of the most expensive real estate in Africa. Nestled cozily on a Nigerian island. Come, lemme sell you a bridge that traverses the desert. loool
There is something almost Darwinian. About the pushes and shoves that I make. To enter that bus on a rainy day. The impatient dog gets the meat, mehn.
There is something like a boiling rage that a feel. When that policeman uses his baton on that cripple. He tries to cross the street on his slab of wood with wheels. But he is in the way of his oga's heavily tinted Range Rover. Cripple-dom isn't blind-dom, is it?
There is something unjustly accusatory. About what I feel. When I see that stupid, 20 something year old lady. Backing one, lapping two, pregnant with one or two or three. Who cares? Irrational breeding.
There is something sadly curious that I feel. When I pass by that 80 something year old woman. Seating in mud. A tattered - clothed beggar. Heck, where is her family?
There is something like a fear inside of me. When I see that little girl. Just budding into adolescence. Being ogled lasciviously by those dirty looking bastards. As she walks happily across the road. Oblivious. Oh Lord, please!
There is something almost surreal. About the way it seems. When I approach that area boy, strung out on weed, to ask for directions. He doesn't only show me the way, he walks me to my destination. He asks for nothing. 'Twaale mama' is all he says as he disappears into the night. Indescribable humanity.
There is something like a tug that I feel in my heart. When I see that boy who can't be over 8 years old. Hawking oranges as cars wheeze past him. Yet he laughs. As he successfully chases after a bus and collects his N50. Oblivious of the danger to his life.
This is something intriguing. With every sight and sound in Lagos. Something fascinating. Its that pull. That makes one both love and hate this place. Conflicting emotions.
|23rd March 2012, 11:40pm Pic: Anon|