I have been going to work late lately. It has been lazy mornings for me. Thank God it’s a PhD and not a real job with a real boss. If not, I’ll be editing my resume by now. It’s getting colder and colder. My mind is in Nigeria, in Lagos. I want to walk on Oshodi Oke Bridge and stare at the sea of moving heads under the sun. I want to haggle with the traders on the railway lines at Mushin Ojuwoye, and laugh as they call me alaroro (the shrewd one). I want to hear the conductors at Isale Eko shout out the bus destinations in a way that will harass you to patronise them. I want to thrill myself with D.O. Fagunwa’s classic ‘Ogboju Ode ninu Igbo Irunmale’ under the kerosene lantern in the night during the usual power cut. I want to listen to the folklore songs on Radio Lagos, ‘tiwa n tiwa mititi’. I want to be in Lagos now.
I want to sing the song
Eko Ile, Ilu ogbon
eko akete
Omo mi ma gbagbe ile
ajo ki n dun, ko didere gbagbe ile
I’m still in Bristol.
It’s still cold here.
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