Little One

The Little One stood out like a sore thumb.
Her face had patches of white caused by powder that wasn't applied properly or from a powder of inferior quality.
Along with her were two smaller ones, who she was trying to keep in check.
She couldn't have been more than than 8 years old but she was burdened with the responsibility of taking care of her two younger siblings.

The Little One stood in one of the ultra modern shopping complexes that was fast becoming part of the economic landscape and was helping to promote the false impression of a booming economy and a growing middle class.
Along with her siblings, she had a huge shopping cart in front of her seemingly trying to decide what she was supposed to do.
I couldn't tell whether she was waiting for someone (hopefully she hadn't just been abandoned) or she was out in a world she didn't fit into.

Around her were little ones of her age group, little ones of expatriates and well to do citizens having fun, pushing shopping carts along with their mummies or nannies and reaching for products they had seen on TV.
In the midst of these activity was this Little One, who was forced to grow up fast, abandoning the joys of what it meant to be a child, would this Little One be the next legend that would take her world by storm? Unfortunately, in the country this Little One lives she would be lucky to get a good education.
This Little One is most likely taking her siblings on a treat, from the little money she had earned from crisscrossing major roads to hawk food items rather than being in a classroom receiving an education, which the country's government has not seen as a worthwhile venture to adequately invest in.
Even if this Little One was off the streets and in a classroom, the education she would get would be from teachers who were teaching with the same syllabus/curriculum used 10 years ago,how then would she be able to compete equally in this dynamic global village.

This Little One would be lucky not to be sold into a marriage, without an understanding her body or what the institution of marriage entails.
This Little One would be fortunate not to be forced into a marriage to satisfy the sexual perversions of a man, much older than her, especially one who ought to know better, but rather hides under the cloak of religion.
Luckily these Little One may just be sold into the household of a wealthy politician who has embezzled enough to satisfy every whim of his third and fourth generation unborn, so that she can have a lavish happily ever after, even though the pains of her childhood would haunt her.
This Little One was most likely born into earth to make an impact but because of a lack of proper family planning on the part of her parents, she is one of 15 and still counting from a child making factory.
This Little One would be lucky if her father was sober when he named her and can remember her name despite the number of children he has.

Sleeping Heads

I am seated in a bus to Lagos, feeling like a ball in a game of ping pong, just that I have to avoid being hit.

The batons are the heads of the individuals seated beside me. And I am forced to dodge being hit by their sleeping swinging heads.

And the score is 1-0 the first hit delivered from the man on the left, and it’s just 15minutes into the journey can I possibly hope to dodge any more hits before the game is over. I hope so.

No, the guy on the left just got a hit in leaving the game 2-0, Advantage Server.

The situation of the roads helps to contribute to the intricacy of the game. From the countless potholes that the driver dodges left and right to avoid entering, to having to choose which of the potholes are a lesser evil.

I am forced to continue this game of sleeping heads, its 20minutes before halftime when the driver will park by the roadside for undisciplined passengers to have a pissing contest on the side of a major expressway.

After some careful manoeuvrings the man on the right gets a hit, despite apologizing for hit number 2 leaving the opponents a very good advance with a 3-0 lead.

I wonder who's gonna get the first hat trick, @audience place your bets now. Just as if the guy on the right can hear my thoughts from the deep recesses of his open mouthed sleep he gets a hit in.

The game is progressing quite well, thankfully it looks like the guy on the left is not going to score any more hits since he appears wide awake.

And our man of the match at the moment gets another hit, leaving the game at 5-0.

I wonder what it would take for me to get a hit in, because anything I do would be paramount to revenge. Well the other option would be to pretend to be asleep so that I change from being the ball to a baton

No, am too much of a pacifist to do that.

And the option of revenge would most likely blow up in my face, what can a skinny all bones individual like me do in a fist fight?

Well except a miracle of Darman repeats itself I am going get crushed in this game.

After more careful dodges on my part the guy on the right gets two consecutive hits in leaving the game at a 7-0 lead, disadvantage receiver. It’s almost a few more minutes into that halftime I spoke about earlier.

And it looks like the game is going to end, as the guy on the right has finally gotten a good sleeping position

We have reached the end of the game and I want to thank all of you that for sticking to the end of the commentary. From yours truly SultanWais.

To my dear hosts; the caretakers of the Lagos-Ibadan expressway (whoever that is or if it exists) get the road fixed or the railway working effectively to international standard rather than beating your chests over restoring a deadbeat train.  So that people like me won't be forced to participate in a game of sleeping heads.

The Race

It's quarter to 3 and you still lay on your bed as if you didn't hear the pistol signifying the start of the race.

You lie on your bed tussling and tumbling as if tortured by a nightmare

Rather the only torture you feel is that of laziness already tired of your presence in it's kingdom

He is tired because his worshippers want to crown you lord over him

And he's having none of it, so even he is giving you a nudge to take get off the side tracks and get onto the race.

You had actually thought you had had the others beaten, thus you decided to take a break. 

You look back to realize that they are upon and you again take off, 

Unknown to you, they are running the third lap of the race while you at still at the second.

True you shouldn't compare yourself with others but you still need to set a bench mark for yourself

Did you really think you would be at the lead forever, when all you have desired is take short intermittent stops.

Your mates are flying and you want to fly to but you can't enlist in flight school because you haven't gained enough mileage on the ground, thus you can't gain air miles that will qualify you to fly into space.

Its not just being bond to the ground that annoys you rather it's being giving the opportunity to fly in the skies but not knowing it.

All the opportunities lay at your feet but the eyes to see them don't seem to exist

You don't want to go trampling upon the opportunities that lay at your door step 

Thus should you stay home bound scared of doing anything that would opportunities.

You don't want to go foiling your opportunities thus you decide to play safe with everyone you meet but the problem is that some of the people you meet need to be shaken up a bit, like a tree so that they can drop the fruits stuck to their stems.

Your playing safe would leave nothing for them recall you by, asides from your distinctly remarkable features, which would at best cause a few moments of talk after they have met you.

In the race you have to choose what side you want to be on; the sidelines or on the tracks.
The sidelines are for those that have run the race well and have set a record for those coming after them. Its also for those that chose to give up much sooner than they should have and those that never started the race at all.
The tracks are for those that are running in the race, they may stumble but they continue, they don't give up until they reach the finish line they set for themselves or are brought to a stop by oppressors who are threatened by their efforts.