Posted March 15, 2008 · Charles O
My perspectives of Lagos in Of Travels and Travails thus far have been through the lens of a resident of a relatively rugged part of the mainland—a confluence of Danfos, taxicabs, Okadas, street traders and hawkers, hoots and honks, dins of bus-conductors’ hollers, blares of bootleggers’ loudspeakers, dust and exhaust fume-laden atmospheres, and a motley of other incongruities. All of these bring to mind…
TRAFFIC ON A LAGOS EXPRESSWAY
A veritable motley—those Lagosians,
Igala, Igbira, all creeds and persuasions;
Confined in space by the obdurate traffic,
Of that bedraggled Lagos Expressway (sic).
Street hawkers, bus conductors, sweat-imbued,
O-sho-di straight, no stop o, Oshodi, Oshod…
No bother about that dead street light,
Brother, better upgrade to panoramic sight.
The cadaverous Yellow Fever appears presently,
Directing, controlling, gesticulating wildly.
Abracadabra, he makes as swift a disappearance;
Lo, the Mercedes v-boot just made a clearance.
‘Omo ale!’ snarls the Peugeot driver, violated;
Others rant and curse, verily desecrated.
The swearing and raving come to naught;
Mercedes man has long reached his cot.
What traffic? Padi, cut through that petrol station!
In fact, complicate this knotty reticulation.
Maneuver here, maneuver there,
Walahi, worsen this web of festering ire.
Hallelujah, that car just moved an inch or so;
Maza, maza, let’s go for the close, go, go.
Ah, too quickly, too close; the brakes fail,
Wham, the Fiat slams into the Beetle’s tail.
Horns blare, doors fly open and slam shut,
‘You don hit my car!’ howls Mr. Beetle, nerves taut.
Behold: the cacophony of assault and expletive,
In English, Kanuri, Urhobo, and Tiv.
Image Source: motherlandnigeria.com/tourist.html.
There are no comments on this entry yet.