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The road to Idia**
Is laid in gold
Its gate debarred
The stinking lead
It is a costly name: Idia
A forged iron
By the money-smith
This iota of responsibility
Going down the drain
Like a fast running water-
Dwindling
The suya spot
Is my bank
This tool that emits a mint
My cashier
Kiosks, begging me in
A refrain of loss…
I was here last week
My treasure full of gold
And teeth – smiling down
By the golden path
Laid within the consensus
Of rising memories…miseries
My eyes are winter cold
Ice drops – my treasure
Is gone
With my El-Dorado
I am left in the web
Of my deeds
And lines of my thoughts…
“Where is that bitch? ”
She came
And with smiling teeth
Took my joy awhile
I shall come back
To this road
To trade its costly dwellers
And waste
My priced possessions
On its demanding inhabitants
And the ever-smiling
Suya seller
When I have gold
In bulk.
POSTSCRIPT:
And so it happened that when men trailed on the pathway that led to Idia Hall, ninety out of a hundred men had a blithe ignorance of wisdom. They came with a treasure full of monies, left empty-handed and with a pledge to call back on the same road. What most of the Idia Hawkers don’t however realize is that out of the ninety clients; only five do return-to fulfill their pledge.
**IDIA HALL IS ONE OF THE FEMALE HALL OF RESIDENSE IN THE UNIVERSITY OF IBADAN.
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dayo desina peters
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OUR PALMWINE CHAIRMAN
