Oshodi: Abe Bridge.
A rusty piece of urban waste set for a future of gleam and glory on the sensual neck of a new sisi Eko.
Apala music and tailpipe smokes whirling in the air.
Scruffy men with crab eyes scanning for loose wares from the suspecting and unsuspecting.
Smell of “weed” blended with the husky voices of sons of the under world oozing of pure alcohol.
Vultures peeking away at roadside carcasses in stinking brackish waters.
Cacophony of destinations rendered in thick and sweet wild west accents.
Buses, cars and masses of humans, jerking in all directions like ants from a piece of wood on fire.
That’s my Oshodi, Oshodi abe bridge.
May 31, 2018.