1 THE CLASSED AND THE CLASSLESS

 It was December time. What that meant for the people of Nigeria is the ruthless dry season known as harmattan. The cold nights and hot dry mornings. For me, today was one of those mornings. As I sat at the passenger seat of my mum's car staring out the window but at the same time frantically trying to avoid the raging blare of the hot sun. I was returning from school and my uniform was already soaked with sweat. The streets were noisy and crowded. The angry blare of car horns, loud chatter among the traders by the roadside and an occasional banter between impatient drivers. As a Nigerian hustler, this was your everyday alarm. An indication that the morning hustle had begun. 

I unhooked my seatbelt as the car came to a halt by a street food joint. The sweet smell of roasted meat hit my nose. 'Suya' as it was popularly called could be seen sizzling over a fire. Not only was this a popular food joint, but it was also a place where beggars were known to be in abundance. Perhaps with the hope that they would be given leftovers of the day. Usually, they were blind men so old yet, carrying around young boys that just learned to talk, who begged for alms on their behalf. This time though, I had spotted something different. The Old man was blind, yes. The boy that he followed around though looked to be in his late twenties. I couldn't help but wonder how old he was when he started going around with his father. Eventually, he would have a child that will continue the business. I wondered how long the cycle would continue until someone decided to do something different.

One thing I also noticed, was how social rules were dependent on your class. Normally, old people were to be held high as it was assumed that they were the wisest due to the fact that have lived longer. But as the old man followed his son from car to car, people would yell at them, wind up their windows and slam their doors. I also watched a little grandma selling plantain frantically run after a slowly moving car while selecting the best ones before her customer in the car lost patience. This would usually be termed as a huge disrespect on the customer's side, but when it came to hustling, nobody had time for that.

As we got our suya and drove away, I asked myself "what would I do if I was one of those little boys obliged to throw away my childhood due to an unfortunate fate?".