The One Armed Man And The Old Man – Everyday Heroes

The struggle is on.

Gears are revving, exhaust pipes are circled with grey smoke, horns are loud and impatient, drivers are angry, teeth are gnashed, the clock is ticking and everyone desires to be anywhere else but in the heart of this madness.

Government traffic wardens are nowhere to be found, and the traffic point – a source of distress for hundreds of commuters, has been abandoned. Who would save the situation? Which of our warriors would stand up to this mighty giant?

From the shadows, the tag-team champions emerge – the one-armed man and the old man.  

The one armed man is clad in a torn pink shirt, from it’s sleeve hole, an amputated limp jots out like a stub. His good hand cortrols the flow of traffic. Pairs of eyes are focused on him, each waiting for their turn. His companion is tall and stands under the sun in a sporty attire – a track suit and  a baseball cap. Nothing gives him away except his wrinkled eyes and the involuntary motion of his mouth.

When the able become unavailable, the weak, feeble and elderly rise to the task

Able bodied young men and women walk past everyday, or sit in their cars while the old man and the one armed man clear the path for them.

They remain at the same spot – under the mutilating sun, in the midst of the rain with nothing but an umbrella.

Their commisioning a mystrey, for who is to know where they are from and why. They are one of the faceless nameless Nigerians who step in to bring a solution to a problem, forced by circumstance to become our everyday heroes.