The Immigrant (part 1)
*based on a topic very near to my heart and my family, here’s my depiction of a immigrant trying to make his way in an unfamiliar world.
He rubbed his freezing hands together
Blowing in air he hoped to warm them up. Failing in that, he tucked them under his armpits.
Blocking any holes that the cold could seep through.
Under the dawn of a new day the rickety bus pulled up.
He jumped on feeling a wave of gratitude for the steamy windows
The warmer climate embracing in the near empty bus
He nodded to the man on his left.
He pulled his cap to the man on his right.
Walking to the back seats he sat down. Slowly peering at the morning cleaners that made up the contents of the bus.
A woman fidgeting with her blue work apron
And a nodding young man struggling to keep awake.
Our guy pulled out his newspaper.
Flipping past our buxom babe on page 3. Past Liverpools most recent failure. He scans the job page, looking to create job number 5.
Mr Rasheed has increased the rent by a tenner this week and his meagre earnings could only stretch so far.
Ade needed new books and Precious was about to sit her JAMB.
Lost in his thoughts, with electric speed he jumped off the bus at Grosner Road. Lightly jogging to the Marriott hotel he smiles at the stale doorman and makes his way to the caretakers room.
The toilets weren’t too bad this time.
A pile of shit
A eye watering smattering of putrid vomit.
And the complimentary trickle of wee around the men’s cubicles.
He completes them all in two hours, smiling at the other cleaner, Anges. She smiles back turning around to mop he admires her rotund behind reminding himself of the pleasures of sex. It wasn’t until his blackening gold Casio watch beeped at 5:45am that he realised he would be late for his next job.
Running again he makes it to the hilton at 6am. Another stale doorman
At 8am he sits in the 159 bus. Tired and hungry he makes his way to his full time job. Texting Odun on his Nokia 360, he asks his to save him a slice of toast before he gets there.
“Mike sit there!” A school kid sits clumsily down next to him, gesturing at his friend to sit on the adjacent seat. “Did you do the homework? I’m in so much trouble man I forgot my book!” Our guy marvels at the young boy. His boyish grin, his picky hair and short fat school tie. The school boy natters on with the carefree ness of a satisfied life.
He reaches the gate of Hyde Park, seeing Odun patiently waiting on the bench. “Youre late, longbottom will have you for overtime mehn” he takes his apron from Odun and they walk in together to the park caretakers closet to begin the day.
“Oseyewu, you are you fathers eye. My son you will go far. I believe your journey to England will be fruitful. God is at your back (osa romeyeke) and at your front (osa romindawu) amen! Go in peace”
For de eye da dey cry will still see road.