Under the Ojuelegba Bridge

The overpass at the Ojuelegba Bus Stop in Lagos was quite visible from the flying helicopter.  As Captain Isiaku Yakubu looked down from the cockpit, he shook his oblong head.

Ojuelegba will always be Ojuelegba with the hustle and bustle of Lagos with the yellow Danfo minibuses and big yellow Molue buses moving back and forth the Western Avenue and others moving bumper to bumper at the Ojuelegba roundabout as they end one trip and begin another trip.  The traffic congestion in Lagos ends at Ojuelegba where most of the commuters from various parts of Lagos city disembark from the buses and others embark on their journeys to respective destinations in different or same directions.
The legendary Afro beat musician Fela Anikulapo Kuti made Ojuelegba famous in one of his numerous popular songs.  Many artists and writers in Nigeria and other countries have written about Ojuelegba.  Isiaku Yakubu saw glimpses of those under the overpass and as a little boy in torn and worn clothes dashed across the service lane, the pilot was taken back many years ago.

“Mama Sikira, put more rice,” the young boy said in the common urban Yoruba language, the local language spoken by most inhabitants of Lagos and other states in the Western region of Nigeria and the lingua franca of the transporters, traders and residents of Ojuelegba. He was handing a small plastic plate to the plumb woman in the native Yoruba attire of Buba and Iro as she attended to the customers buying her steaming rice and beans with other meals such as fried plantain chips and fried slices of yam.  The aroma of the hot stew wafted in the air.  There were customers sitting on eight wooden benches in four rows under the overpass facing some Danfo minibuses in the parking lot.   
“Mama…”
“Ahbah!  Isiaku, I heard you,” the food seller said curtly as she put spoonfuls of rice into the small plastic plate and handed it to the hungry looking boy.
“I have to eat before my boss Jamiu, returns from the toilet.  You know he won’t even give me five winks before screaming Isiaku, C’mon, let’s go!”  He said to the food seller as he hurriedly ate his food with a plastic spoon.
‘That is your business.  You must work to eat, “ she said and turned her attention to the customers stretching out their hands to give her empty plastic plates and other plates made from enamel for their meals.
“Isiaku!”
The loud voice rent the air and the young boy nearly dropped his plate of half-eaten food as he shook.  He grunted as he munched his rice and swallowed the lump before he answered the boss.
“Yes sir!”
He swallowed the remaining spoonfuls of rice without even chewing it and quickly took a small transparent polythene sachet of water (popular called pure water in Lagos) from where several sachets of "pure water" were kept nearby.
He used his brown teeth to cut open the sachet and gulped the content and threw the sachet on the heap of refuse beside the food seller.  He rubbed his wet palms on his torn and worn black T-Shirt and baggy khaki knickers.
“Lazy boy!  Have you not finished eating?” barked an awkward looking bearded middle-aged man in a large size white T-Shirt and black trousers.  He looked well fed, but with rugged looks.
“Jamiu, my husband!”  The food seller hailed him flatteringly.
“Mama Sikira, who is your husband?  You want Baba Sikira to strangle me?  I don’t play with another man’s wife,” he said and smacked Isiaku’s head when he noticed that the boy smirked.
The food seller laughed jokingly.
“You coward!”  She teased him.
“I would rather be a coward and stay alive than be brave and die on top of another man’s wife,” he said.
“Isiaku, let’s go!”
He walked away briskly and the boy followed him with quick strides.
“Coward!”  The food seller yelled after him.
“God knows I am not a coward, but a wise man.  I do not want to die young.  Adultery kills!”  He retorted loudly, because he wanted to be heard by the people within the vicinity of the food seller.   


Thursday August 16, 2007.
Bonny Island, Rivers State, Nigeria.


TO BE CONTINUED LATER.

Who is Captain Isikaku?? the story is still not quite clear, but continue, i think it's a nice story line.

Are u depicting the poverty level in nig?

The same poor young boy Isiaku eating from plastic plate under the Ojuelegba bridge later became Captain Isiaku Yakubu, the pilot.

In my Daughter of a Beggar, Sule the motor park tout at the National Stadium Bus stop in Surulere, later became a lawyer and the nomadic daughter of a beggar later became the international correspondent of Canal France International (CFI).

They are my grass to grace chronicles of life.

Oluchi the Nigerian super model came from a very poor family in Surulere and her mother was a petty trader.

They the lessons of life. They are inspirational stories.

I am saying that the poor can rise above the deprivations of poverty and attain the higher levels of human achievement.