Gomorrah

This piece is inspired by the way of living of residents of the Shitta Housing Project, somewhere in Surulere. It is a creative approach to portraying their ways of life without passing judgement. There is no direct reference to any one individual personality and it is a reflection from the point of view of a cannabis user who visits there on a regular. why i felt the need to write this, i don't know. But someone needs to tell their story.

So much buzz around that I’m starting to think I’m in a bee hive.
Everybody is moving around with no destination in mind.
So much fuss about stuff like it’s the real deal
But it’s nothing but another episode in the ‘series’ called same old shit
Rumors spread within the community like some STD
And the chances of catching the virus becomes likely if you’re into the numbers (baba ijebu)
When it’s done, you’re going to need a healthy dose of whatever you get your release off.
Look around and see the right acts on the wrong scene.
This is a city that takes no prisoners except for those that get hooked on you know what.
We’re all keeping appearances, acting like we’ve got something good going.
The sons are peddlers, urchins or opportunists. The daughters sleep during the day and work at night.
They all switch roles with their parents by the time they turn 18.
Small clusters of people toasting to a fellowship that has yielded nothing but ‘hang over’
And with the multitude around, you won’t believe you are by yourself until shit hits the fence.
You’re yearning for acceptance from those around you who are looking at you with alarm on their faces.
They want out of what you’re trying to get into hence the expression on their faces
You have what they crave but soon it would be had
Presence is hardly missed like a good student, save for that of the dealer.
Whilst you are making yourself indispensable, your replacement is being groomed around the corner.
Before you know it, you’re lost like a dog on a green trail waiting for the hunter’s whistling which would never come.
A Sunday day turns grey in the long run and leaves you wondering why it always rains in your space.
Substance abuse puts you on the path of depression.
You are running away from your problems but the escape route is laid with quick sand
An induction of another destitute-to-be makes the survival statistics harsh
Outside seems too dull, the deafening noise of your surrounding clouds your awareness leaving your judgment impaired.
If chance is not doing you any favors you’re free to check out but would you?
Welcome to GOMORRAH; enjoy your stay for a while till the heat gets amplified if you don’t know when to check out of this mean hell’s kitchen.