Showing posts with label Recreation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Recreation. Show all posts

Friday, February 14, 2014

The Sideview Apocalypse


Caution, which is an essential you'll stow away in a trunk as a functional make-up of the maintenance kit turns up missing in a Lagos driver's vocabulary. These roadhogs hit their mind's delete key on a whim at a hint of the C-Word—and don’t you dare pretend the situation’s less complicated where you live. They've laid down their cautionary hats. These days they prefer not to.

There was an age when blinkers were a vehicle's most delicate hardware. The world moved on and subsequently, readjusted the standpoint on blinkers. In more recent time, motorists traded interest in the turn signal for vehicle part of a little more elevated status—and that’s not on the terms of importance but of position—the sideview mirror. When a Lagos driver isn’t all over trying to trump James Bond’s driving skills; which happens when he (or she) is constrained to proceed at a crawl, motorists turn their energies to ripping off the other guy's sideview. 007 stunts are small potatoes compared to this delirious real-life-car-chase-choreography from hell.

I should clear up the air a bit so I don’t hand you the wrong end of the stick. The episode conveyed through this prose is stringently localized (that don’t extricate the speed daemons in your locale). If you've been around Lagos, Nigeria or better yet, if you read my post on “James Bond driving,” you have a roughly sizeable idea how this yarn’s going to come out.

Courtesy: pbase.com
Let’s do a little comparison. A covert intense virtual feud is all the rage on the internet right now. A development not alien to the action flick scenario played out on a minute by minute basis on Lagos highways and byways rules the digital multiverse. Millions of site owners strive for awareness or traffic—pardon the pun—it gives a sense of congestion on the internet. But as it is with real traffic so it is with the virtual; there is a destination in the big picture.
            Saying’s still true ‘if you keep your focus soon your focus will keep you.’ You don't have to take the lead. You aren’t stuck in some sick race where the laurel wreath gifts the suicidally speedy. What you can do, and should, is seek out new and fresh channels to pull in your resources as some Lagos commercial bus drivers sometimes do even though at the expense of commuters.

One minute you're staring out your rearview watching some bum stuffed behind the wheels of a beat-up truck pull up to your bumper. What happens next is a blur as the monster hunk of metal hurtles into the scrawny space between your automobile and the highway divider. It gives your ride the bum's rush, collecting paint scrapings for souvenir and not quite leaving your sideview out of the wager. Splinters of glass spray on the tar and all that’s left is a hollow, battered (mostly plastic) housing.
            In time, drivers learned at a pretty price, the implicit meaning of the warning legend engraved on the wing mirror; the one which reads “objects in the mirror are closer than they appear.”

Akpan


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Tuesday, April 17, 2012

One Black Body


As the teardrops spout thro’ the windows of my eyes
It’s hard to visualize paradise
Regained thro’ the tools of compromise.
But a foot-soulja like me
Knows the drill to never say die.
From below surface, like boosted rockets, I climb
Mortifying every challenge with retaliation.
A master of my own kismet, I execute my obligation
Operating on a higher level of courage
That would function nowhere else but center stage.
(If you must know anything man, know thyself!)
And commands awe like a clutter of spent shells.
Reigning in identity,
My affections sprung on the labors of integrity.
Souls of ancestors
Watching on, watching me, from the grandstand.
Applauding the triumphs of a survivor;
A true native son

In one black body.
There’s no one who can change my tomorrow today.
My course is charted
And the light of my life is waking
On the horizon. Cause my Red Sea’s parted.
I’m drunk on invention n’ ammunition,
Bracing the glare of the sun as it penetrates my rust.
Hate couldn’t displace my faith
Cause my rage and grace erased the bait of hate.
This is my pride of place:
The remolding of a pound of clay.
And my past shall not defect my future,
I adopted dyin’ to live as an item of ritual.
Prodding with ideas that’ll explode in the light,
My ideas wake me in the watches of the night.
I’ll take it and let it be

In one black body.
And in this body
Will arise the making of dynasties;
The unmaking of impossibilities;
The breaking of infinities,
Till kingdom come.
To testify how I walked thro’ walls
Before the keeper of all that is kept-
When I stand on that holy mountain-
Of a creature coming home with a 100 fold talent;
Of a worm’s strength when tests rose up like Cain.
Of new beginnings from a past of defeat;
About the determination of a Negro
Prompted by his enthusiasm and belief
In a simple childhood code.
Till I kick up a new facet of history

In one black body
I stand in awe of a past rooted in pain.
My soul bleeds at the mention of history’s shame.
Downtrodden but not downcast;
Blacklisted but going strong with a blast.
I leap on the back of the wind and cruise
World’s unknown my mind in tune with my muse.
And still not buying into a white-washed history.
Take one peek at mystery’s next-big-thing;
Drink your fill of a jewel of peculiar worth,
Shouldn’t come as a surprise I got balls n’ a song.
Situation steeped me in a turd of imperfection
Still the makings of me exhale God’s own split image.
Used to go around flashing a badge of shame
Only to get flung up by Redemption’s ditty.
This is where my forever story derives its beginning:

In one black body.



Akpan


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