Today, I will be enacting, in writing, a form of literary nativity show. Born in the tough neighbourhood which Mushin was at the dawn of the 1960s and having grown up in places spanning Fela Anikulapo Kuti’s Kalakuta Republic in Jibowu, Yaba to Oshodi of the ‘70s and ‘80s, I left to seek the golden fleece in America in the mid-’80s.
As a result of my peculiar youthful notoriety as a roadside mechanic cum ‘danfo’ driver/conductor and student of the then Ikeja Grammar School, who followed the infamous Bayo Success in his heyday of 1979 to 1983, I believe I have the street credibility to write this letter to you.
Imagine me using my most guttural motorpark voice now, “Emusaay! Bawo ni?” (MC! How’re you?) “Ki loun sele?” (What’s happening?) “Ki ni plan e fun awon boys?” (What’s your plan for your boys?). This monologue speaks to my concern about the office you’re holding. There are many boys in your union who need to be touched. Boys who, beyond enforcing the daily collection of transporters’ road tariffs, must be skilled in auto maintenance and related businesses in the trade to save them from the redundancy of middle age.
It’s s about time you considered starting cooperatives in the major districts of Lagos for these boys to enhance their welfare and have something to leverage on for the disciplined ones among them to own their own transport vehicles.
This short note is an old street boy’s missive to a relatively young street king who has to grow his constituents and consolidate his legacy by reviewing the human capital and welfare developments of his people. Time, I must confess, flies and the earlier you start it, the better.
