In Lagos, Nigeria, I am Street

IN THE STREETS;THE SOUL BLEEDS

I am street , I blend, I mix,I intertwine, I see.I am street.The steel rod protrusion that is embedded in the lawn or street path or the exposed live electric cabble or wire lying casually on the street corner or under the rumbles are an ever present danger to the unsuspecting urchin, scavenger, the jogger and the road work regime team or the old woman carrying her heavy wares on her head,walking along the rough and shady sidewalk,all,on a daily basis are at the mercy of these unheralded destruction waiting to unleash on the streets.But this is just the tip.

I see the young man soliloquising with uncoordinated hand gestures in the air , a picture of one who has been weighed down by the equally uncoordinated dynamics of life,a graphic visual of a man whose mind had absorbed more than it can process.I see the deadlocked mentally challenged but very peaceful man,sitting quietly in the front of the house of a temporarily accommodating absenty landlord,who from all indication is pondering and strategising on how to get rid or evacuate his unwanted "guest-occupant".Then ,there is the disillusioned man with the disheveled afro hair that sits near the street food vendor waiting for food and monetary hand outs.I am not sure but from his spoken and communication skills , he comes across as one with a sound education, once.

I don't know what to make of this encounter.I saw a blind lady with my son in a popular eatry trying to find her way with her walking stick , in fact I saw her measured movement through the glass partition and cladding as we headed for our parked car in front of the entrance and noticed that it presented as awkward and intuitively,instinctively and unconsciously (a combination of all these) got my attention and I drew my son's attention to what I have seen and observed and offered that we should assist her, to which he readily nodded in agreement. At this point she has managed to get to the entrance and stepped outside all by herself.We approached her and after some few introductory banter , we offered to help and give her a ride to her destination which she excitedly accepted , not an easy prospect in this clime and environment for a blind person to accept to mingle with strangers but she welcomed our gesture and stepped on the raised platform of the SUV and settled in, almost effortlessly In the discussions that followed during the ride, we found out she came from England with her kids and they are staying with a family that is now asking them to leave and she desperately appealed to me to find an accommodation for them , repeatedly asking in a high pitched voice , do you have , do you have a place for me , for us! This was too much for me to process or handle and I could not respond , not even in words, we remained silent for long period before I eventually found my range and offered to talk to some NGO's on her behalf.We got the address she gave us and that was when the first of the now strange occurrences occurred. The gate man to the close didnot visibly recognised her and was at loss to handle her as moved right in front of us and turned towards a side door outside the gate! At this point my instincts told me to hurriedly leave which I obeyed and drove off , no longer interested in the hazy unfolding but fluid drama.

Long story short , I was to bump into this same Lady in a Supermarket,frantically searching for a receipt or some needed stuff in her bag near the cashier,not wanting to be noticed or call attention , I quietly asked the cashier with a gesture towards her about what's going on and she responded that she was a partially blind Lady searching for a receipt in her bag , obviously a known customer or an accepted nuisance. What echoed in my mind is the word "partial" because the impression she gives and her gait and carriage is that of a totally blind person! Could this be a new wave fraud? Which brings me to the very beginning of her story where I accepted a rarity that I am not sure , I am not sure if what to make of this , for once vestiges of confusion comes play.The streets,just like the walls, pavement and props have many colours- which colour is this, a colour that the Artist in me cannot decipher.

I stopped seeing the old Lady that sits on the chair in front of her expansive house to greet and exchange pleasantries with medical will always wave at her in greetings while taking a walk or driving and she will wave happily in response but I noticed that progressively her excitement waned and dipped in the scale .And then when in recent times I stopped seeing her or her chair , I felt an ominous pang which I was too afraid to explore , my intuition and we'll intentioned spirit tells me the signals are not good,still I will hold on to my warm and happy thoughts of Mama for now ,,cowardly not venturing to ask questions of her.

Further down the road , my amiable and bubbling road side provision retailer has come down with stroke and I watch his wife and another young man attention to his needs and try as much as they can,within their powers and capability to make him comfortable. Sometimes he manages to take a short stroll and other times sits outside for fresh air and a view of the real life tapestry unfolding in front of him.I exchange some few discussions with him every now and then and encouraged him in one of those to keep up with the short evening strolls.

The story of a young man with a large burden of second hand clothes on his head with the side over flow partially impairing and obstructing his view and haven meandered through the massive steel structures,named and referred to in Queen's English as tankers and trailers which have put up a brazen show of braggadocio in taking over our roads and redefining vehicular and human movement on our streets and metropolitan landscape ,the young man,sedated by the joy and euphoria of completing this dreaded daily task was not alert to the unruly fast paced vehicular movement on the other side of the road .He met his untimely death , as he was run over by a yellow bus with faulty breaks,manned by a hyper and uncoordinated Driver, probably high on the local alcoholic herbal brew called "Paraga"

But the bizarre twist in the take must be reserved for the encounter which I encountered on my way to the very big electronics market in the outskirts.Looking ahead as we were driving through the very bad undulating terrain/topography that was the brainchild of an unending "on-today-off-tomorrow"road construction project that still remains very far from completion years after earning the tag commission in a much celebrated commissioning ceremony,we saw a makeshift road intersection.This intersection also served as a bus stop and land crossing for commuters and then presented the setting for one of the most bizarre and avoidable accidents sensed danger when I saw a commercial motorcycle rider called Okwara or Achapa or Going in other parts , speeding head on, towards the the road intersection in the opposite direction with the misplaced freedom and brazen confidence that defiles all known traffic rules.As if timing his run into the intersection , some group people were equally trying to crossover , what followed a clash of human bodies , some flying in the air, some pushed into other human bodies by the side of the already chaotic road.Chaos!.Driving from the opposite direction and having sensed or if you like had a premonition of danger some minutes back , I was able to slam my breaks and swerved just in time to miss the head of the man who was the actual passenger companion if the motorcycle rider ,who had been acrobatically swung in the air and crashing down in the road in one dramatic swoop And here is the strange part no one was hurt,the young man simply picked himself up , dusted his jeans trousers and sought the safety of the unkempt sidewalk.Miracles do hapoen!

The streets have been taken over by tankers and trailers , spillover of the ones that have taken over our highways, roads and bridges, creating commercial hubs and a safe abode and haven for criminals of all colourations.They also serve as barriers of convenience for defecation,dirt, and for lucid and illicit affairs.

Chaos , arguments and street fights everywhere.The people are now "short fused" and constantly having their "fingers on the trigger"