By Toonday
Ilora
Ilora dons an eerie atmosphere,
A spacious emptiness wherein
You can handpick your fear.
Houses stand, with windows like
sullen sockets of forefathers
peering at our rush & rest.
Houses that have worn several
generations yet never known
a government.
Houses with a splurge of paints
in combo of color that speaks
of churches and witcheries
A too-young boy rides an okada
too fast. A too-old man chewing
stick with an effort of a god.
A maiden with too tight a cloth
wriggles her behind with
obvious efforts.
A tractor that has been to too
many farms, crawling under
the weight of its burdens.
A signpost welcomes commuters
in an unrecognised fonts.
Standing disjointedly.
“Ilora, the town of the faithful &
Baleful”, the Oja Isale & Oja-
Oke, of the great Akibo!
Adesokan Waliyulahi –toonday, writes from Oyo state, Nigeria.
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