The city bustles with life, and I am in the
centre of it, combing through the roads like
fingers through a garden of cornrows.
I listen to the sound of hope, of fatigue,
of women crushed under the weight of
capitalism, their sweat lost in the rush
of fancy cars, the swoosh of motorbikes,
the lit roads of TransCorp Hilton.
I do not hold anything here except love,
and my left breast. The weight of it against
my spine. There’s nothing new about this
place. The day remains the day; stale over
our noses. The whisper of sunlight sifting
through heavy trees made present by the
goodness of town planners. The afternoon
is growing bigger, everything is running fast,
but at night, the city will move to rest.
Everything will simmer down like a pot taken off fire.
The women will walk back into the cold of
their poverty. The cars will drive back to the
warmth of wealth. I will not sleep. I will watch the city
wake inside me. My eyes ever-present
like the streetlights on Sheraton Road.
Read other poems in Afapinen.
Biography of Dead Schoolboys by Aondosoo Labe
In This Poem Prophecies Come to Pass by Minkail Olaitan
Red Is Not My Colour by Ahmed Maiwada
Jamila Abbas is the author of Between the Lines of a Photograph (2024). She is from Nasarawa; a poet, spokenword artist, teacher, humanitarian, and a real estate professional and facility manager. Her poems have been published in Konya Shamsrumi, Poetry Column NND, and elsewhere. She resides in Abuja, and is a partner of the art collective Nasara Creative.