Tonight again I write

Tonight I write about the sufferings of my brothers on the street, and the pains of the homeless, the fatherless, the defenseless and hungry.

I write about the pains of the average man who barely struggles to feed on a single meal.
I write about the tears of a mother who watches her children go hungry and die of petty illnesses

I write about the pains of the homeless whose only bed is under pedestrian bridges, about the bedless beggar who sleeps beside the gutters and lie in peril of rape and other forms of violence.

I write about the insane in my home country left to roam the streets without proper medical care.
I write about the fatigued menial laborer daily overworked, spent and bent under the burden of wares and weight. Weights not only from the luggages they carry daily, but also under the burdens on their heart.

Tonight, I write about my people in the hood, who struggle to get away from the croods.
I write about the innocent child brought into an unhealthy world by a mentally unbalanced mother, about the babe who sucks the Breast of a mad woman and is raised on the dung hills of Lagos.

Tonight as I write these words, I keep thinking on how I can make a difference and become a positive influence and make the world a better place.
Tonight I pray that I would not need to become a senator before I think about the needy or even take my luxury ride at the expense of the ordinary man.

Tonight I bow my head and think hard on how I can make a difference.


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