d a thousand voices all shouting at once: honking cars, preachers with megaphones, agberos yelling a

d a stomach that hadn't felt full in two days. My eyes darted

he soft. It chewed and spat out th

y weren't walking - they were charging. I tried to copy them, keep my head down and

oked at me, frowned, and said, "You dey craze? Job no dey for person wey never

concrete. The city didn't sleep, but I tried to. Hunger gnawed at my insides. My back ached.

st night

ar of my school blouse and blurred the blinking lights around me. I missed Mama. I mis

I'd shared with a limping boy who reminded me of my cousin. I wandered through the streets of Ketu, then Mile 12. I asked a mallam if he

rning back. But turn back to what? To a home without Mama? A father who'd rather see me beaten

rd morning

se a writer was in a city like this. She was wearing a yellow ankara dress, neat but sim

eaten?"

s were too dry to l

bag and brought out a wra

he said with a small s

lowly. G

e in Agege - mostly for young women. Runaways. Domestic ab

ould she see throu

and handed me a card. "Come tom

she

rd like they were sacred. Agege wasn't close. I'd ha

with her name echoin

aybe even a path to becoming someone -

e since I left ho