PART TWO
The shadows of a booming satellite town woke me from the fleeting slumber. It also stopped our goat-type head-butt fights- me and the lady besides me. Our bus had pulled into a road-stop eatery and stretch joint at Benin. Both sides of the road where littered with trucks loaded with different haulage goods. They looked like decapitated giant millipedes sprawled on the kerbs. A mob of noisy men had occupied a stall, a pole away from the eatery. They flexed huge biceps and shoulders, their sweats seeping in large rivulets and their voices booming in large decibels. They totted shots of Sapele water- the locally distilled gin; most emptying the contents in their tots in one swig. Those were the truck drivers having a fill of their favorite gin. One needs not wonder why they drive so recklessly after being satiated with the zest of the gin; and how many innocent lives are being wasted by them.
No sooner had we stepped from the bus than the female occupants all hurried to the loo. The males stretched and yawned instantaneously, looking as if they added few inches to their heights; and afterwards strutted majestically to the bar counter for some chow. I smiled in amusement at how weak a woman's bladder would seem- as depicted by the hurry- yet, how long they can retain urine. They can wait for years, literally.
Brunch was rushed, drinks gulped and the convenience over-used. My legs had become swollen due to sitting still for so long in the cramped-in bus. I should have used a flight- if the organizers of the #Be_Blessed_10 poetry slam had sent some grants to the potential contestants afore-hand. But who cares that much for poets on this side of the globe? We are just a bunch of sick folks who resort to complex and compressed word impressions to express our sickness; so are we regarded by sane men- or which sane man would journey across several rivers, wasting scarce resources for a bit of handshakes, mic chewing and book-readings by folks with be-spectacled eyes?
In about fifteen minutes, our bus was completely re-boarded and we headed out. Few minutes later, we had left the satellite Benin suburbs. More lush vegetation lay ahead as we zoomed towards Ore.
Few minutes more and the lady co-passenger by my side had resumed her briefly interrupted sleep nods.
I shifted slightly, praying silently that she does not knock off my dentition. Cos if she does, I'll unleash all the subdued poetry inside me on her.
©Poet Razon-Anny Justin
April, 2015
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