Another Life

The middle aged Hausa woman
 Sat at the bank road that
Doubles as the new-parts second gate

A beggar that each day I made  trip
To the banks in that area, she will
Sit on the same spot asking for alms

I will put little denomination note
In her plate and she would greet
In her language I understood a little

One day I passed her spot heading to
The bank to join queue but something
 Some force told to turn back and

Put something in her plate. I obeyed
The voice and turned around and as
I stretched my hands to put something

As usual, she grabbed my hands and
Stared deeply into my eyes, before
Releasing my hands. I don’t get the

Message but I got another thing
What I saw in her own eyes and
Face disturbed me. I saw lost hope

I saw a good heart that don’t like
What she have become. I saw a sound
Woman in the heart and head.

But begging have turned her into
What I am sure while young, she
Never for once anticipated.

I was wondering if she is
Genuine or into pay books
Of some crooked tribal leaders

One thing is for sure, she doesn't
Like what she have become, whatever
It's she is, she doesn't like it.


A month later, I was heading
Towards motor park I saw her
Marching ahead of me with


Dedicated strong and assured steps
I eyed her few minutes for she seems
To materialize from nowhere before

Losing interest again and then I don't
See her again. She certainly not a
Beggar, but something with good heart.