Junkies

It gets windy at night
And when it does he goes to his favourite spot, somewhere along Jalingo Street,
He squats behind the abandoned blue sedan with his legs resting on the wall
He lights up the joint,
Opening the entrance to his Junkie Heaven

During the day, he encounters stares as he strolls in his only apparel, that torn brown sagging combat trousers that exposes his pubic to the view of all willing to see,
His collection of scrap, gathered during these strolls, are exchanged for money,
Money that is later used to buy dope and food
In the evening, he returns back to Jalingo Street,
For that spark that leads to Junkie Heaven.
And to begin his journey again…

But Tuesday was different,
Nobody could hear that sob, that sound of a tormented soul hovering back and forth experiencing ecstatic pleasures known only to those that indulge,
There wasn’t the usual clattering of cans and discarded mental as Hamad drags his most precious items in preparation of tomorrow’s supply
In two days, we all began to get worried on what befell dear Hamad
There are too many possibilities we could conceptualize
But as human, there are limits to the scenarios we can construct
Remember, rationality has boundaries

Boundaries that are further limited in the absence of our Hamad,
A reminder of the worse that can happen to a man
He puts in the minds of our offspring the idea of that thin line between humanity and the beast, forcing them to act in their best
Visualizing the lower limits of human evolution gets us up in the morning
It is with this knowledge that we developed mean to diligent manage our lives and construct our community
Hamad weakness, ignites us to aspire

In his desires to rise above his demons, he frequents the abode of the reformers with that cry for help
Their remedy to him is just enough to return back in a state, worse off that he started
At every attempt to break free, he is remind of the shackles on his wrist and disastrous covenants made during his years of innocence
They tell him of unattainable goals and targets he can’t achieve
And this forces him back to Jalingo street
A feat that keeps the reformer employed

Our search party went into action to find him lying by the riverside, overdosed
We gathered together and attended to his wounds
Against his will, he was treated and restored,
Restored to return back to his hopelessness
Which was our desire because:
- in it we find hope
-in it we find our desire to rise
- in his hopelessness we sparks our joint,
And opens the gate to our junkie heaven.