It’s a new dawn
Shouts and marching; drives towards the converging point
Keys into the padlocks; opening doors yet filled with dust
Opportunities are beaming; there is a lot of noise
Wears are landing on tables, merchandise hanging with pebbles
Eyes are running, surveying; those of Genuity alongside those filled with obscurity
The owner and what he owns; madam shines her eyes on her items of gold
Profit’s the name of the game; the players are giving themselves some close marking
Parents with their kids in the marketplace
The children are running within the market space
Nneka and Gbola; in close bond, with secrecy, dishing out the latest rounds under a market shade
Alfa and the prophet in a hot tussle of putting their truth in the people’s face
At noon
Crawling, walking, running, jumping; as the tempo may seem
Mama t and aunty b; selling the same wears; exchange some couple of twinkle eyes, as buyers draw near
It’s a tussle and jostle story for some folks
Danana and sowoe; in the spirit of brotherhood just made sales on each other’s behalf
It’s a win-win approach for some
The taxi man, in a hasty frenzy, splashes some mud on the spirited sojourner; draws some wailings
Barrows in; with some armoured men to lift your loads, even you; that’s if you don’t mind
Many shouts, so much noise, murmurings, gestures here and there
Bargains are falling; one on another; who wins; the seller or the buyer?
Now rolls the eyes of men as crabs, whose sleep is with one eye
Merchandise; back into the storehouse
Padlocks are closing in themselves, others with the support of the keys
Leathers are covering some perishable and imperishable; providing warmth and secrecy
Sojourners vacating the premises; the players are going off the field
It’s full time for today
But there is always another day; to re-converge at the marketplace
Before we all vacate this place.
Bolaji Olaniba (2018)
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