Here I stand, alone,

In this crowd market called ‘life’.

Uncertain of the next step,

And worth it might cost.

Loud are the cries from traders,

At all corners,

But louder is the cry from within;

Between me, myself and I,

“I need  to get a job”

“I have to get a loft”

“and I don’t want to quit school”

Which should I tend to?

My intuition enquires.

“But how do I afford all these?”

My pocket asked in a flat tone.

So I stood,

Too scared to move,

Embracing fierce brushes from scurrying passers-by.

I am angry, but still,

I am ashamed, but still,

I get pushed around, and yet stood still.

Then until;

My father’s strong hands fell upon my shoulders,

Heavy it seemed at first,

But lighter it became in time.

Then he uttered one of rhetorical questions 

“do you know how costly it is when you make not a move at al?”

These words echoed on, and on, and on.

Until finally, it sinked in.

It kindled a fire in my soul 

And beneath my sole.

So I moved,

Even with the little of nothing I had,

I moved on still,

Through the stormy market road.

For all I could afford are tears,

A few smiles,

And a heart that hopes for tomorrow.

by Audu Usman