If wisdom had a smell It would smell of old books Passed down from generation to generation Revealing the truths about the enigma called time. The truths which cannot be purchased Even by the highest bidder. That smell that unveils the arduous work of writers Known and unknown. That smell that reveals family trees of readers Seen and unseen. That smell that conquers ignorance Once knowledge is sought. If wisdom had a smell It would smell like an old, well-read copy of Uncle Tom's Cabin Revealing the evil behind the thoughts and actions of slavery. That smell that encompasses sacrifice. That smell that brings words and characters to life. That smell that raises positive movements that will In time, save humankind. If wisdom had a smell It would smell of old wrappers Worn by mothers and even fathers, Instinctively used to wipe the tears Of their children away, Used with love to cover them from the rain or sun. Oh, the smell of that long piece of fabric With drawings of horses, stars,...
SNOW WHITE It is 6 AM. Yaba bus stop is already crowded with workers struggling to board comfortable buses. Many ignore smoky, scrappy, dirty and high-fare vehicles; Friday gives you such luxury. It does not take too long before an accepted bus stops in front of me. The bus is barely empty; occupied by the drive, conductor, a man and a woman dressed like it was snowing that morning. I board the bus and suddenly, this winter like woman hands me a tract which I turn down. She looks at me like the devil’s advocate. I sit as far away from her as possible. The bus is finally ready to kick off with all passengers in their seats. Many of us are with our face masks but not Snow White. Suddenly, we are jerked from our sleepy states by a deafening shout: “repent my brothers and sisters, everything is vanity. God loves you so much even if you cannot create the world, or the rivers or the sky. Or can you.” A man in front of Snow White suddenly remembers his face mask and digs ...