by Oluwatosin Johnson
I heard tales of change, I set out to investigate, Oshodi welcomed me full of apologies,….
As I walk through,
I stumble over dirt,
Other feet break my stride,
Loud noise from molues,
Slices through my brain,
A cluster of people on my right,
Bent around a magician,
Male and female peddlers on my left,
Trying to capture my interest,
“Okrika cheap, cheap”. He said pulling my hand,
“Fresh pepper”. She said exposing her toothless gum,
I am tired,
I crave water,
I call one water seller,
Five assault me,
I decide to go home,
But I must jump into a moving bus,
I try,
I end up atop the ground,
Not a glance of comfort for me,
With a headache,
Stained clothes,
Annoyance,
I vow not to see Oshodi again.
I kept my word,
With unflinching determination,
I held my ground,
From Oshodi I kept away,
With years that passed by and by,
The sludge on my pride washed with time,
Life and character of the city beckons,
I heard tales of change,
I set out to investigate,
Oshodi welcomed me full of apologies,
It is amazing:
That the road was pristine with no dirt in sight,
That my legs flung in all directions,
And did not connect with other feet,
The new kings of the road were less nagging,
The famous Souk has simply disappeared,
The scalding sun forced me to a retreat,
Into a vehicle patiently awaiting my presence,
Oshodi indeed you are a different animal,
I decided an end to my resolve,
Looking out through the window of the bus,
That glided away from Oshodi in its own lane.
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Op-ed pieces and contributions are the opinions of the writers only and do not represent the opinions of Y!/YNaija.
Nice piece tosin. Sooo luvin diz. Woooow
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