Warri of No Worries

Blue and white painted tricycles,

Loudspeakers blast Wizkid and

Mr Eazi in cosy corners

where virtue is easy.

life is easy here,

money goes faster

than it comes, but

not many worry about this;

faux ease is the shroud that

blankets Warri’s disturbia.

behind the fancy hotels and mall,

a light burns bright relentless,

no respecter of night or daytime,

gas flares unchecked.

Beyond Ogborikoko and the Barracks,

swamps beckon, home to

thousands of earthen fish ponds;

uneasy calm is the tale of these clusters

the river ebbs and flows,

fishing community sleeps, wakes and prays,

then sleeps and wakes and prays

that by dawn the river brings

no contamination from source

no quicker invitation to

hypertension exists, than

the sight of thousands of

helpless fish, belly-up

come dawn.

Still, life is laidback here,

‘Easy o,  jeje,’ Reekado sings

what is yours will come to you,

in this city where only visitors or

the ‘foolish’ obey traffic lights.

Warri is no Gaza,

but sniper posts manned by Mopol

in busy fuel stations tell

a different tale from

the city’s faux-peaceful air.

military checkpoints at every turn,

but there is no war zone here…

just the curse of oil and

her ever restive militants.

Cover photo credit: Doyin Deji