FORTUNATE TRAVELLER
Welcome to the travel theatre/ where transition is key. — Dami Ajayi, 'On Airports I'
The first time I attempted speaking German, I was a middle teenager in Lagos, trying to impress Otunba, one of those egbon adugbo you looked up to without needing a reason. It was simple greetings: Guten Morgen and Guten Abend – the two times I usually saw him.
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an elderly matron
dressed in black
from head to toe
carrying string bags
of market produce
stumbles on uneven cobblestones
pitches heavily to the ground
attempts a mighty heave
falling back with a groan
Armies and ideologies rise and fall.
Your castle, churches, winding streets,
Your cobblestones have watched it all.
The murky days when feet sticky with duty
Dig deep into the saucer-shaped moon river,
Her already creased craters are rippled towards
An infolding…
Nostalgia (when we passed through Etche) Through the frigid terrain our car sliced Each palm, once a stranger now beckons and sways A wayfarer’s weary feet, trumpet the long-awaited return My gaze, fixed on the window, captures fleeting snapshots. Home, too, yearns for the nomad’s triumphant homecoming As streets whisper tales of an embrace long overdue Here, I declare it, this is home, and I am its herald What rivals…
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In The Middle of Third Mainland Bridge The danfo is a hub of abnormalities. This one is being towed by another. In this mobile mini-market, we jostle for space, throw jabs of tonguein search of quiet. The day has taken its tollbut I must endure this torture. A bug crawls on the shawl across a woman’s shoulder – a man by the windowsquashes another. There is an uproar!We fling the bus driver under vocal…
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I: Lagos to America For this summer, my family opted to observe our annual vacation in the United States of America, having ignored that country for almost four years. My dad said now was just the best time to catch up with extended family and friends after COVID-19. So, on 27th July 2023, we made our way to the international wing of Murtala Muhammed International Airport, Ikeja. The check-in process…
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Looking Back(for Oyorokoto) I turn to search your footsteps from acres of solitude away,to listen to the song of your tide singing home the fishers.but you are gone from me, the way ocean of becoming,its tributaries always beckoning flotsam of dreams,constantly wash young pebbles off your brine shore. I, whom survival weaned from your breast, am underfed.I sleep and wake in Obio-Akpor, in Ikwerre, still starved of language in my State,the…
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On Sunday, November 20th 2022, as I sat by the window seat of our car en route to São Tomé, I whispered to myself, ‘Finally, I’m going on an adventure I’m stoked for.’ São Tomé has always remained a wonder to me, especially because, as I like to believe, people hardly go there, and this was my chance to unravel the mystery myself. A significant factor in choosing São Tomé…
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The Fishwife The fishwife in her wooden market stallTucks in a franc into her black brassiere,Smiles as she hands over the fish. She is tallHer teeth glisten whiter than the sassier Neighbour’s, whiter than any woman’s, so whiteI wondered if God knew she’d make itInto a magnet for custom and light.I did not ask her name, I wouldn’t pit My halting French against her effortless riverOf Bambara and market French….
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