The virtual choir was in good voice last night - I know cause I heard most of the performance. It only stopped in the pre-dawn for the voice of Islam.
In my semi-conscious state I remember thinking how nice the hymns were. Consequently, today, Saturday, feels like Sunday - a day of rest - or possibly for catching up on lost sleep. Most of Sabo-Oke must be feeling likewise as it is very quiet in the 'hood'. I saw our neighbour, Uzo, and asked her if she was on her way to church.
'No!' she replied, looking at me oddly, 'It's only Saturday!'
So it is! No avoiding the shopping then!
I wandered down the road to the metal shack on the corner where Anna, Elizabeth and little Bridget seem to spend most of their lives. Their mother was filling empty plastic water bottles with motor oil and arranging them on her roadside stall. Anna was copying some letters into an exercise book, sprawled across a rough bench. The heat, the fumes and the traffic noise didn't seem to bother her; flies were swarming round and landing on her page in order to get a closer look. Anna whisked them away and continued with her letters. Where will this family be in 10, 20 years time, I wondered. I watched the baby sitting bare-bummed in the grimy, oily sand, sifting it through her tiny fingers and staring up at me wide-eyed.
They all stopped to greet me - courteous as ever. Mum started humming a hymn as I left - even though it wasn't Sunday.
I hope God is looking after these good people and has better in store for their future.
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