I see two girls with buckets of water on their heads; one is green, the other is black. I see a woman by the well, she’s fetching water from the well, and scolding her child for whatever crime he committed. Mothers are gods.
Some men are gathered in front of a house, holding a meeting of some sort, or probably just gossiping.
“E ra epo e s’ebe” (Buy palm oil and cook your soup). Her voice is the traditional advertising tool, she’s taller than most women around.
A woman holding a yellow keg just passes me by.
Down the street, I see a man struggling with his bike, the thing just doesn’t want to work this morning. I see a shirtless child, probably a girl or boy, its rounded tummy is not enough proof of either gender.
The street is littered with dirt.
There’s a constant noise
A woman is grinding pepper.
I’m wondering if there are no really aged people here unlike where I come from, I’ve barely seen any.
I check the front of each house, but there are none.
The weather is a bit different, rain drizzled a bit yesterday, I like that. It makes a good Saturday morning.
I see one very fine girl, I’ve seen her around a few times. We make eye contact once I look off my phone. She’s probably wondering why I’m all sucked up in my phone, or probably hoping I’ll approach her. Anyway…
A man is coming behind me, he’s making ridiculous sounds with his slippers, he’s dragging his feet, I hate that.
I’m thinking of going to the next street, maybe I’ll see some really aged people. But come to think of it, I’ve not seen a car on this street.. Wow! I’m thinking about my project, too. And also, I’m thinking of how Lagos streets will be contrastingly busy. I’m thinking of how things would be if I had a car, I certainly wouldn’t be walking around aimlessly. I’m thinking of the writing brand I’m working on.
You see, a lot of thoughts.
I am a boy. It’s a Saturday morning here in Nigeria.
