The Bhojsons building ever
present though it does not look the same way I left it the last time. It got a
paint job and it no longer bears the burden of carrying its name on its head,
rather it wears it on its body like a tattoo. However it still stands tall,
proudly unclad just staring at the expanse of land beneath it and so does the
church which is in proximital radius and the post office which is about a mile
away, and the shuttle buses, the ones going to the expressway and the one going
to the island. The chatterings are still present, both the pronounced and
indistinctive, this place has always been a hub.
20 years ago, the chattering was
more, and louder. Development has come, infrastructural advancement, BRT lanes,
Banks, restaurants but the same old feel of a market place is there. Market
women here and there, traders all around the place. Countless wholesales
counters and shop, this is indeed a depot of foodstuff. Practically, every food
consumed in the Lagos metropolis must have passed through here, it is a
traditional place with a traditional smell.
There goes a Yoruba proverb which
says:
“Eni ti o le sebi alaaru
loyingbo, ko le sebi adegboro loja oba”
This translates literally into
“If you cannot give haulage
services manually at Oyingbo, then you cannot be in charge of being the sole
foodstuff provider for the king”. Well, more like “Whoever is not ready to
serve cannot become a boss”. This reaffirms its prestige, but
the proverb basically means "NO PAIN NO GAIN"
Countless lives have crisscrossed
at this juncture. People who have felt the pain People who have made the gain.
Everybody gains after all, one way or the other. This place is a mirror of what
the state is, the hustle and bustle of Lagos. Matter of fact, it mirrors the
world itself, the world is marketplace.
I hail the heritage of this
place. Oyingbo!
No comments:
Post a Comment