I see you, standing before the broken mirror;
What used to be the determinant of a man’s outlook;
You stood before it and smiled, even though it was broken in many places;
But that’s because daddy was behind you, assuring you of the inherent beauty that even the great mirror couldn’t see.
Today, the broken mirror only signifies the brokenness deep within;
Hope crushed, faith non-existent, life just happened.
I see you, with a deeply set frown on your face and a neatly stacked bundle of newspapers;
Yet you stand upright and strategically by the road;
Knowing that each piece of colored and printed paper held a heartbeat of your survival;
You always thought being a graduate meant good life, sunshine and daily smiles;
Unfortunately the bane of unemployment got you hooked;
No longer hoping for a great future, hope disappointed you too many times to stay a true ally.
I see you, at the bus stop, handbag resting calmly on one arm, one foot flat on the ground, the other slightly raised at the toes;
The makings of a mannequin, perfectly shaped, with no skin blemish;
Mind roaming, reminiscing the good old days of wealth and affluence;
The days of Jaguars, Benz and the like, ice cream after school, cotton candy every party;
Hoot, hoot, madam oyalo?
Life must go on, troski, Uber or taxi, it’s just how life is.
I see you, just before the curtain went up;
The fear, insecurity and forgotten lines;
The crowd cheering and clapping, lights on and the curtain slides up;
Knees shaking, inner demons screaming, memories rebooting, a powerful feminine voice booms across the whole auditorium;
On the wings of passion, the song pours out, drawing intense emotions;
Just as suddenly as it started, the song ended;
The cheers, the applause: sometimes life does you good!
oyalo: are you going?
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