Image by United Nations Photo via Flickr
Every country has within its walls, different types of species. Humans of different natures; perceiving reality in their own unique ways. Some ways, are more dangerous than others.
Some see the outside world as a place that works to help them achieve their goals. Others see the world as a place that needs to be worked and toiled in order to squeeze out what little juice there is.
Their choices and actions are genetic. Passed through the environment of birth. Through the influence of how they were taught to react to life. Cheat or be cheated. Kill or be killed. Get rolled over…..or keep standing.
Some minds are set in stone. They kill without much thought to the process. It’s not strange. To them it’s a way of life. Just like you choose to handle your disputes in a court. They choose to handle it a bit differently. Your normality is different from theirs. Your real world is a candy store that needs to be stolen from.
You eat what you want. They eat what they have to. If you had a choice between feeding your family and letting them die; which would you choose? Would you choose to fight? Or would you choose to die? Choosing to die may be the right action. But let’s face it; not many people are that noble.
So they steal from you. They steal what they perceive as their right to stay alive. They care about nothing and no one. They don’t have an address. They are one of those randoms you see walking down a New York street in an American movie; except they look slightly more intimidating.
They take the bus when you don’t have the guts to. They run the streets while you step in and out of an air conditioned car. From afar they know who you are, cause they’ve traced you. They know where every “big man” lives. They know what he does and they can tell you what type of car he drives. They can even tell you what route he uses when he goes home at night. To them, that is knowledge. Something you don’t have to go to school in order to learn.
They have money, but it lacks purpose. Their idea of a good night out involves “kpoli”, a bottle of chelsea, music and a girl who doesn’t cost too much to have sex with.
Their life is different from yours. They accept and at the same time reject the life that is theirs. They care little for your cares; that’s why they bathe at night and not in the morning. At least the women do. Work for them begins at night. Some considered high; others considered low. Grade depends on cleanliness and the size of “nyash”. Anything else is just on the side. Most would “do” anything as long as it has a hole.
Everyday is a different fight. A fight over who stole something, or over who won the last role of dice.
They know all the different “formats” to use to deceive. They trick the rich who are stupid enough to believe their lies. Their key weapons are greed and fear. Its one or the other, sometimes both. Most people will do anything for money. People would give everything they have to be saved from what they are afraid of.
There’s also the “jazz”. Magic, voodoo; whatever name you give it. It exists. In different forms and for different purposes. Not all of them have the guts to delve in it though. You would only need it if you were in one of their cults.
Men with cuts in their chest that render them impermeable to anything that cuts. Medicine that can be used to “conjure” you into bringing all your belongings from your home.
The police are part of the same world. Men who came off the street and received governmental empowerment. They are one and the same. The only difference is the “type of hustle”. The police are a product of society. They reciprocate the treatment that they receive and is expected. They kiss a jay and bust you in the same breath. They know who to arrest, but they don’t. It’s more profitable for them to rent out their weapons, when there is a need to rob. Not that it would make any difference; the cars in the station have no petrol.
The government withholds their salaries. They place them in banks till the interest builds then they pay them their dues a year later. This is with the assumption that half of it doesn’t go missing on its way down the chain.
This to them is life. It repeats itself day by day; hour by hour; month to month in the same way. Till it got to the point where they expect nothing better, but hope for nothing worse.
Stuck in the same boat for life. No longer wondering why because too many generations have passed since that question was first thought up. The answer is now irrelevant. They know only one rule……every man for himself.
Radical Chic Magazine 