roadside streams

Highway to hell? Some things it is so hard to appreciate, like life, until that day when you are rolling down the highway in a PSV. It is considered a pleasure, a little bit of an honour to find the seat next to the driver, to be the conductor, an accomplice in the sharp descent to madness. There is no sambaza there after all, and there is never excess, but sitting there is akin to booking first class tickets to a madhouse. Talk of cruising down the highway with a looney at the wheel, playing raucous, lewd, and ethnically insensitive love song that sounds more like a divorce, with a blubbery mouthed driver shooting saliva in all directions, from the window and down to the glass, talking about his women and his sons who have refused to go back to school and instead harbour dreams of driving lorries, of his ugly wife who would not cease to beg for money and of his crazy boss who did not care about the barrenness of the day, only his money. You realize with time that the driver is talk...

‘Mud’ with laughter With the current muddy situation that we have in the country, it is no longer comical to see someone fall, but it still has a taste to it. The sight of someone falling seems to be a trigger to a sick, latent humour that everyone seems to possess, and surprisingly, the more crude and awkward the fall, the better the laughter. While some people fall down on the ground with dignity, others seem to float in the air for sometime before finally landing down on the ground, only to elicit laughter from a group of people suffering from a dearth of humorous situations, and in this country, there truly is a dire shortage of laughable things. We have all been there. We have been victims of these falls, sometimes in full view of the public, sometimes in our own little cocoons, but the point we all make is that we have tasted the ground once and again. Now, someone told me that it is not respectful to laugh when someone meets the ground, but hey, they are the victims, not us, a...