Casting the first stone

I paced around the platform in time and on time with my hands deep in my pockets. The rumblings below my feet and the gentle vibration of my cell in my pocket nudged me into two simultaneous but different activities. I looked up and the flickering information board confirmed the timely arrival of the train as it hissed to a stop.

I checked my phone to confirm the video message of the untimely arrival of our locomotive engine train maiden trip to Abeokuta in fanfare. I boarded, unslinged my backpack and sat down. The seat was comfortable and it was not supposed to be after all, it's a mere mass transit, I started writing this piece in an air of stale disappointment.

The Abeokuta train’s arrival time was an era off, so also is its single rail track system. India, Senegal and even Canada would have joined us in an overwhelming celebration if the train had arrived post colonial time - sometime in early 60s. Well, better late than never is  hardly a consolation advice for a single lady who is experiencing a protracted delay in getting a spouse. Every guy who knees to tie his shoes will be perceived  by her as a prospect suitor.

For this priceless antique, are we not supposed to be grateful? No, but we are. It is the government's responsibility to provide this and so much more for her citizens. If however, you had frustratingly waited for 16 years on an empty promise, every fairly used  items that comes your way from abroad will look like a gift from above.

The good thing is that the soul train will run free of charge like our educational  system  pending when the elections will be over, after which presumably you may  have to start using your PVC to get you on-board.

In the last four decades, we have all watched from the popular stand as the physical infrastructures the colonialist left behind slowly crumbled due to our lack of maintenance culture. Also, our inability to accommodate social infrastructures  in our discourse is the reason for our evident systemic failure.

Consequently, on board the slow moving train were the best wavering minds circumstances can put together to discuss why we are still this far behind in the comity of  nation.  The contingent includes a Nobel laureate, paramount ruler (I wonder the relevance of a king in a republic), party chieftains and some white folks to give the belated occasion some semblance of respect and make it colourful.
On arrival, the contingent gave a warm speech to show appreciation to the government, knowing fully well they will never board the train again.

Contrastingly, Ogun residents had to wait for the President’s campaign team to wisely arrive by road to express their indebtedness. Sadly, the campaign team had to leave in a hurry to avoid any injurious vote of thanks as the people decided  to cast their first vote with stones and not PVC!

My train’s screeching stop  brought me back from reverie. And as I disembarked I wonder why we have to necessarily start our own journey by first going back to the terminal, rather than just boarding from the nearest train station to us?