Las Gidi Saturdays

At any given time on a Lagos Saturday;
Someone is frying akara
Someone is getting married
And someone is getting scolded by their mother.
The hiss of the oil, the beating of the drum and the soprano of a parent harmonize to create the sound of our city.
Because what is our city if not a mother, bleeding everyday to feed it’s too many children.
What is our city if not a frying pan of lessons, each one so hot that it just might leave a scar.
What is this city if not the beauty of love. Of people from 550 different tribes coming together to say we are one.

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