Night Life in Oshodi

What a Night!
Many things happen in the marketplace. It is here flotsams make their home. It is here the homeless make rest. It is also here that foreigners speak Yoruba and Pidgin on video. When you see homeless citizens eating cheerful in the night’s cover. You see why not everybody can gather the paper of this world and turn rich.
The marketplace is scattered with dirt left over from the day. During the day, it is where mad people breathe and talk. That is why many times the madness of this world is not found in dead places.
I am just coming interstate, people always coming and going. I am seating in a bus, and even the electrical from here fills my nostrils.
There is a night buzz in the marketplace, and in the not empty market stalls, simpering sounds call home, but soon it will be dead silent, the day is coming.
Too many things happen in the marketplace, the one at Oshodi is no different. There are homes there and different colours also. Many people are suffering, homeless in this country while the mother government leads us up the garden path, wants us to backslap them.

6 thoughts on “Night Life in Oshodi” by Somefun Oluwasegun (@SamoluExpress)

  1. Aderonke Daramola (@Shovey)

    Not so bad *seating for sitting

    1. @shovey thanks for the pointer, you made me realise i made a mistake there.

  2. Horlhart (@Olarinoye54)

    Not bad but i’m finding it hard to get the main point.

    1. It’s a poem @Olarinoye54. Thanks for reading.

  3. ivie9ja (@Ivie9ja)

    You were drawing a mental picture for us but then its as if you stopped abruptly. You probably needed to just develop this piece a bit more. Do you love the market? Do you hate it? Are simply observing it? That sort of thing

    1. @ivie9ja you are right on point there but this piece is a poem. It was a category mismatch. Sorry for that.

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