I Walk to Circle

I walk to Circle everyday
Why not a car, why not a cab?
Because their faces would be hidden from me
And mine from theirs behind wound glasses
The face of the lunatic, half naked and unkempt
The face of the homeless, lying helpless on the floor
The face of the trader, hoping I can spare one Cedi
The face of the mate, yelling from his rickety minibus

I walk to Circle everyday
My knees get to move about a bit
My skin feels the touch of the four elements
My heart pumps twelve pints from torso to phalanges
My nostrils feel natural wind rushing in to my lungs
There is no artificial light, there is no artificial air
There is no artificial face, on the road to Circle

I walk to Circle everyday
I think about why I go and come to this place
I think about how long I will be coming here
I think about what to do with what I get from here
I think about whom to share all this with
I think about who may be watching me
Wishing they could wear my suit

I walk to Circle everyday
I catch the toothy smile of the movie vendor
I respond to the hearty ‘Ayekoo’ from the fruit seller
I wonder at the scanty gathering at the preacher’s spot
I gaze at the throng trying on used clothes
I stare at the smart phone in the hooligan’s hand
Possibly stolen to be sold in dark corners

I walk to Circle everyday
Relieved that the day is over finally
Looking forward to my plate of fruits
Craving my warm but slightly hard mattress
And the sight of my fresh kitchen cupboards
As well as other luxuries which friends
On the road to Circle may not know about

I walk to Circle everyday

Kenneth Igiri
June 2012