What is your story?

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Everybody has a story. Have you thought about the conductor, cajoling people to enter the bus, shouting at the top of his voice, the colour of his teeth like Ibadan rooftops, wearing a tattered singlet and dirty jean trousers, he has a story. What about the young boy? Hawking roasted groundnuts in traffic during school hours or the little girl who helps her aunt to fry akara, yam and puff-puff by the road side. They have a story.

That gaunt and skinny woman running after buses with a bowl of cold sachet water on her head and a baby with big hollow eyes drained of life strapped at her back has a story to tell. Those mallams selling fruits, pepper and tomatoes in wheelbarrows or the Aboki carrying heavy loads in the market. Each and every one of them has a story.
The igbo woman selling dry fish and vegetables calling out to people to buy in her thick igbo accent has a story to tell. I almost forgot about those Hausa guys with their wheelbarrows filled with used and condemned, always hitting metals and calling out to people to sell things to them. They have a story too.

Everyone has a story to tell.

They may not have a success story yet. All they have are tales of woes and struggles, stories of hustling and ghetto life. Stories of survival of the fittest ,pages of their story filled with sad tales.

Everyone has a story to tell.

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