THE OLD BEGGAR WOMAN

When I was just a boy growing up in Akoka, of the eighties’ Lagos, I looked forward to the sonorous voice of the old beggar woman

every Saturday morning. She would walk the long stretch that was my street then, starting from its beginning and disappearing at its end, off to where I never bothered to follow or find out, beyond the farthest I could see her from the safety of the balcony of the first floor apartment my family lived in back then.

As she trudged on, she never stopped, and a few benevolent people on the street, would drop a few Naira notes, or Kobo coins into her bowl, while she said words, that could pass as a very slow song in Yoruba, as follows;

Àdúrà yín á gbà ò,
Òtá ilé,
Òtá ìta,
Òtá gba’ngba,
Òtá kòrò,
Olúwa á gbe yín lekè won.

Which loosely translates to:

Your prayers will be answered,
Enemies within,
Enemies without,
Enemies in the obscure places,
The Almighty will give you victory over them.

I can’t seem to remember if majority of us came down from our homes on those Saturday mornings (besides those already on the street) to give her some money, but I’m sure ensconced in the “false” protection and comfort that our shelters provided, we either loudly, silently or meditatively responded with an “Amen“, to the prayer of that old beggar woman, until we no longer saw nor heard anything from her again.

‘kovich

PICTURE CREDIT:
– https://www.dreamstime.com