Sometimes ago, a colleague of mine posted on his WhatsApp status that Ibadan had become a haven for beggars and deep down I thought it was unfair for him to judge like that. Little did I know that I was about to be wowed in a way one would not want to be.
A few weeks later, I took a trip down to the wonderful ancient city to blow off some steam accumulated from the stress of working in Lagos. I touched down at my uncle’s place around Apata axis although I arrived late at night. The following day, I called my two friends from way back in school; Adeteju and Kingsley who lived close to my uncle’s place.
We met up and decided we should go to Shoprite at Dugbe. On getting to Shoprite, we went about looking for what to get, and we settled for jollof rice and chicken. After getting the food, we strolled down to the lounge, which was empty as there was no tenant and settled down to eat our food.
A few minutes later, two young girls of about thirteen walked towards us and past us into the mall. Minutes later, they came towards us and stood in front of us.
“Please, give us some money,” one of them said in a stressed Yoruba tone. We were surprised as our thoughts included the assumption that the venue gave us immunity from awkward situations like that. We were wrong. Adeteju’s sociological mind kicked in and she kicked off with a series of questions.
“What about your parents?” Was Teju’s response to her request.
“I don’t know where my mother is. My father has chased me out of the house because of his new wife.”
“Where do you stay?”
“I stay with my friend’s family.”
“What class are you?”
“JSS 2”
The interrogation continued for about fifteen minutes more after which we learnt that the girl had decided to be a professional beggar and her beat would be Shoprite. We also found out she ran away from home because her father could not afford to give more than he could.
After the interrogation, she gave the girl two hundred naira, and we talked on for a while before we departed.
The following day, as we were observing sanitation in my uncle’s place, I heard a rap on the gate but since it was not my house, I didn’t open it only for my cousin to open it and an able-bodied middle-aged man was standing at the gate begging for money.
I never had it in mind to take a trip soon but necessity warranted a trip for me. I was on my way down to Ife when I broke the trip into parts as I could not bear to sit down for too long and boarded Ibadan bus to take the bus going to Ife afterwards.
On alighting at Iwo road, I strolled down to the bus park where I would get a bus going to my destination and boarded it. First, an able-bodied woman in a white blouse approached our bus and started begging for alms in a jovial manner. Evolution had hit the art of begging. I gave her 50 naira as I was ironically intrigued by her style of begging.
Passengers started filling the bus and suddenly we were besieged by four beggars at once and one woman stood sentry on the other side of the window where I sat and kept pressing. After some minutes, she was evidently fed up and she started hurling mild but bitter insults at me.
What has happened to the ancient city? Is it laziness on the part of the people or the immediate past administration? Either way, something has to be done about this menace else a beggar might kill an individual because he refused to give him alms that he is not entitled to.
ETH AINA'S CREATIVE ISLAND. 