THE STREETS THAT RAISED ME: OLD WARRI REVISITED

 

I was thinking this morning..... Yesterday, I was in Warri for a wedding and decided to visit the neighbourhood I grew up. Beginning from Mission road, I walked past First Baptist Church, where I first experienced what it meant to serve God. I recalled how, as Royal Ambassadors, we did our parade in the open field between the old and new church buildings. It was a nostalgic feeling.

On Okere Road, I took a detour through Nelson Williams Street. Coming out at Ogboru Street, I connected Father Healy Street and stopped over at 6 Ogboru Street where I was born. Standing in front of the compound, I reminisced on how we played in the open spaces of 6 Ogboru and 15a and 15b Father Healy streets. It was pure joy.

I continued my tour, entering Okandeji Street, where most of the buildings, though still standing after 50 years, are now a shadow of themselves. There is a complete absence of urban renewal effort in the neighbourhood, making it look like the relic of a ghetto. I shuddered as I saw waste water and sewage in open drains flow across streets and compounds. Yet, with the danger lurking around, I observed a number of kids, full of life, running around with unbridled joy, confirming the saying that "Rat wey die on top bag of rice no be hunger kill am, na over excitement."

Next, I branched into Ometan Street and walked towards Bazunu Road. When I got to Chief Edewor's compound, I was held captive. The building has been excellently maintained and looked exactly like I knew it over 45 years ago. The statue of the man carrying a bunch of palm fruit (banga) on his head still stands strong on the first floor verandah of the white storey building. It reminded me of the years I walked through that road to the Igbudu market.

On my return, I passed through Ginuwa Road connecting Omatsola Crescent. Walking through Torufa Primary school reminded me of my primary school days when we used to eat jolojolo. I connected back to Okere Road, joined Robert Road, and ended at my beloved Mowoe Primary school. All the joy I felt quickly disappeared when I saw that Mowoe Primary School is now an abandoned grassland.

With tears in my eyes, I recalled the sweet and sour memories I have of my days at Mowoe. I recalled how 'catching abaka' (grasshoppers) behind my class gave me a deep cut that left a large scar on my left foot till today. If there is a lesson from my tour, it is the reinforcement of the pidgin English proverb that says, "Table no dey turn, na who get sense dey change chair." I am grateful for the streets that raised me, but despite changing chairs, I pray those streets remain fertile (Psalms 85:12).

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

......Just the thoughts of a certain Wey Mey