Yellow

In the world of order,

Blue is the colour of melancholy

Yellow, the colour of the sun

As we were taught back in kindergarten

And we all grew up to know this as false

And that’s only one of the numerous lies we were taught

Like lying is bad, all liars will go to hell

But as we got older, we realised this was not,

That there’s something called a white lie and

Sometimes you have to lie to save your arse and avoid bullshit.

Excuse my French.

Yellow, this is the colour of brightness,

It expresses positive and optimistic energy

It is best to wear yellow on a sunny day.

An article once read “a yellow tie finds itself around the neck of an intelligent man,

A man who likes being in control, an authoritarian”

But nonetheless, it qualifies frailty and somewhat aggressiveness

A mishmash of some sort

As is evident from the fragile egg yolk

Yellow was also the racist term for the Orientalists

Yellow seems to have more cons than pros

I disagree, Yellow is a strong colour

Categorically, I can say it depicts Heritage, Togetherness, Investment, Partnership,

Distinction, Commitment, Security, Returns,

Innovation, Footprints, People, Focus

But Yellow is not First Bank, though they've got a little ochre on the logo.

Yellow is like a distinctive carpet

Something magical, not just anybody can use,

Only people from the hall of fame use

Yellow is not MTN

Though they are full of yellow,

They are also full of shit and cannot be trusted

Excuse my French again.

But contrary to this,

Yellow is the Danfo bus, its ruggedness and doggedness

Yellow is strong and resilient

Facing different daily challenges

The half hanging bumpers and dented fenders

Single wiper, no side mirror all courtesy or the area boys

It encompasses different lives

The perfect setting for true hustle

Yellow is Lagos
Lagos is Yellow.

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Only One Bus

The following events happened in real time...
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On a Friday evening, only one bus was deployed, only one bus, only one bus was sent to Unilag, 2 days to the closure of all the hostels, the end of the session, a day when practically everyone would be going home when every Tom, Dick and Harry would be returning to Abeokuta, Badagry and Kafanchan, only one bus, only one bus was deployed. I’m frustrated enough with the security gados milking out ₦300 from me, a mere ₦300 but then, on a travelling day ₦300 could be a lifesaver. That aside, I have to face this inconvenience, embrace it, galvanise with it and make it my own… for the moment. Good thing I’m seated but the sardine situation, now not only with humans, bags everywhere, the sun, the heat, the humidity, the noise, the time, the body emissions and the other individual frustrations all caked up in this 25 by 7 ft. metal box coasting on 4 wheels, the bus having filled with matter starts to move, I hear the ticketer say to the driver, 45 sitting, 17 standing…she did not mention the 100+ different bags and baggage stockpiled.

Fresh air comes in, a heave of relief. Right about the first roundabout, and Voila!!! Flying snake, stinging monkey!! An accident, dude overruns the roundabout, hits a young woman’s accord, bashes the entire front section clean. “You don hit my car, oyinbo repete” but then I won’t be seeing the end of this, the ambience of the atmosphere gets familiar, I think it’s gonna be an interesting journey home. Right at the third roundabout, a hold-up steams, Unilag; a school of roundabouts, the traffic always starts there. The beautiful set of passengers sitting close to the driver suggested he manoeuvred the roundabout and took to the second gate. Lo! and Behold the road’s smooth to the second gate; good advice. As the bus drives out of the gate… Vooossh!! A woman zooms across the front of the bus,, a close shave,,,,, Nigerians sha, to think that she was in the car with her kids. Today surely is going to be interesting. Looking out the window, seeing an unfamiliar environment and faces, never knew this place existed, I hope we do not get lost.

Sways, tides, the bus swings from left to left, right to right, left to right and front to back almost as though we were riding in a jalopy or some 1960 station wagon, I keep my cool though there’s still that tad of fear of the bus just slightly getting over-tilted and falling down, but I keep my fear in solace of me being seated in-between and not at the edge, I close my eyes and hope I may have a cushioned fall but Marcopolo would not allow it, the engineers have taken every single variable into consideration, the bus cannot and will not fall under those circumstances, I feel a bit jaded and decide to close my eyes a bit.

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A loud panic sound pierces through my ears, my eyes open, I feel adrenaline in the air, this surely is not a dream, I am awake, random movements, people shouting, babies crying, baggage tumbling, the bus feels tighter, my sitting muscle is turgid, my legs are numb and I cannot move,,, “what is happening?” I exclaimed, everywhere looked darker, and was getting darker. NO!! NO!! this is not it, this should not be it, the end, the end, the end of the journey, I had slept off the entire ride. So much for an interesting day.

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p.s. - I guess mgh never really translated to ½mv²

Scape

The year 2015, here we go. I would like to thank the readers for the support over the past year, you have been wonderful. I thank you all for the comments, sharing, retweets and the likes...