A TRUCK AND ITS CURIOUS CARGO

Monday, 5^th December

Monday Mornings

Where I come through, there’s no bullshittin’ on Monday mornings! We African believe that whatever you start the week with will pro’ly be the trend for the rest of the week. The culture taught us to attack Monday mornings with our game faces tightly screwed on, monkeying around is not option, nah , no way, jose!

The late afro beat legend Fela Anikulapo-Kuti had a classic joint ridin’ on the back of that line of thought back in the day

Ojo Monday

Eko oni gbagba kugba

This roughly translates to, “On Monday morning, there is no bullshittin’ in the city of Lagos, it's all hustle and grind”

Prayed Today?

Before you took that ass out the crib this mornin’ Monday, did you pray?

You didn’t! Why?

Your nasty ass is so ungrateful!

Don’t get angry with me now, my ungrateful ass is on that same freakin’ bandwagon wit your ass. Ah ha!

I know a lot of folks might not have gotten down on their knees and scream down the heavens like most good religious people do before hittin’ the streets for their daily hustle, but I bet alotta of you whispered a word or two to whatever god you pray to between the time you got off the bed this Monday mornin’ and the time you actually started puttin’ in work at wherever it is that you work, right?

Thing is, people often pray every morning to God, Allah, Buddha or whatever god to help them put some increase into their hustles.

This mornin’ in New York, a banker pro’ly prayed that God should direct people’s attention away from Walls Street so that shit can return to status quo, a time when he and his greedy ass cronies were gettin’ ridiculous bonuses. 

A doctor in Nigeria most likely prayed that God should work through her to heal every sick patient she’d give treatment today.

Somethin’ tells me a taxi man in the CBD (central business district) in Jo’burg most definitely prayed for a lot of customers to get their asses on his cab for a ride and am pretty certain there was a farmer in Somalia who looked up to the skies this monday mornin' and prayed for rain to water his seeds, am sure of it.

Today

A Truck and Its Strange Cargoes

08:10

I got out the crib without showerin’, I jus’ combed my ‘fro, threw a black polo t-shirt on a grey combat short, dipped my feet in a matchin’ grey converse, anointed myself wit one of those P. Diddy’s perfumes (am lyin’, man) and hit the streets for an appointment wit some guy.

I was feelin’ so fresh, so clean (outkast know that feelin' too) as i walked down the street, whistlin’ a tune. Five minutes into my walk, as i was tryna cross into another street,  out of nowhere (it seemed), a truck full of “boxes” blared its horn loudly, I jumped outta the way jus narrowly avoidin' bein’ knocked from here to hereafter.

As the truck sped away, the punk asses standin’ on the “boxes” in the back of the truck LOLed at me, I shook my head and took a long look at the disappearin’ truck, but guess what? I wasn’t really starin’ at the truck per se, I was marveling at those “boxes” cause they weren’t your regular everyday boxes…they were coffins!

Unanswered Prayer

What! Your boy almost got killed by a truckload of caskets! Imagine this scandalous headline, “Man Killed by a Truckload of Caskets” 

 

Isn’t it ironic, that somebody prayed a prayer that coulda inadvertently resulted in my death this mornin’? 

That experience kinda made me wonder the the type of prayer a coffin maker, an undertaker and a grave digger would pray in the mornin’ concernin' their bi'ness. Do you know?