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IF WISDOM HAD A SMELL (A POEM)

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,...
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WICKEDNESS IN HIGH PLACES

 WICKEDNESS IN HIGH PLACES


Look at this child hustling to survive. Mehn this country is too hard. Jesus! He will fall o..! the crate of water is too heavy on his head…!


This was the beginning of a show of wickedness. We see a white bus filled with men and women looking like crusade members with some wearing face masks. One of the passengers calls out to a child hawker selling water for a bottle that costs N100. The child looks not older than 11 years. He struggles to catch up with the white bus as the traffic moves from time to time, with a crate filled with cool bottles of water on his head. His Ankara - up and down - is wet with sweat from the marathon of the day. It is past six in the evening. The bus moves in the traffic, enough for the child to hand over the bottle of water to the passenger in demand and just when it is time to exchange notes of change by the child and payment by the buyer, the bus driver increases the speed of the vehicle. The traffic had subsided. 


We see the child hawker running after the moving vehicle because the passenger is yet to pay him. The crate of water is too heavy for the chase so he drops it on the sidewalk. As he pursues, the bus does not slow down. It reminded me of a child’s play - not Squid Game o - called YOU NO FIT CATCH ME!!! Those seated at the back of the bus watched as the young boy ran after them. It has become a sport. Once the boy gets close enough, the driver increases his pace until the child gets tired and watches how the bus fades away. He becomes smaller, not sure of what to do next as he stares into the distance. A hundred naira loss.


We try to catch up with the bus in the fast-moving traffic. Eventually, side by side, we scream, abuse, scold everyone in the bus for what has just happened, demanding they go back to pay the boy his money or choke on the water stolen! The reception includes smiles, silence and indifference from the passengers. They had somewhere more important to be. The driver finds a way to lose sight of us, leaving us with regrets of not throwing out the money to the boy when we had the chance to. 


No one knows what the impact of the loss of a hundred naira would have on that boy. Would he skip dinner for that day? Would he be chased out of the shelter where he probably sleeps? Would this or that happen to him? I leave you to your imagination. But wickedness no dey pay anybody. If you like, attend all the church services and mosque prayers, if you make your fellow man cry, you go pay one way or another. If you were in our shoes, what would you have done? If you were one of the bus passengers, what would you have done?


Don’t forget to be KIND!

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