A Little bit of Hope

Oluwaseun Macaulay Written by Oluwaseun Macaulay · 2 min read >

Waking up in the early ours of the morning, brushing my teeth, taking a shower and doing all the other early morning bathroom rituals. Then getting dressed, picking my bags, forgetting to drink a cup of water, grab my keys, get in the car and head out on my day. Living in the Lekki axis, traffic is always the first challenge of my day. Do I battle through my normal route, pull it by my intuition and try the inner nooks and crannies of Lekki or do I put my faith in great lord Google Map and see where it directs me each fine morning. Well today I trusted my intuition and it got me to work satisfactorily.

During this commute I happened by a house, not abandoned but with the right argument I would concede. The floor was a mix of caked sand and worn pavement. Looking far back, you could see what was a garden had turned into an ecosystem of God knows what and overgrown weeds, it was not really a place I’d like to step into. To crown it all, you could clearly see its compound was quite lower than its counterparts on the street, I guess it was one of its first houses built. In Lekki, the more recent a house is built on a street the higher its ground level. You will know why in your next few breaths – in and out. I would pass this house a couple more times in the future.

On one of these days, I left my home earlier than normal. My car crawled down the faithed street and this time I noticed a few scrawny dogs walking around in quite the sluggish manner, looking quite skinny with an unkempt coat, you would rarely see dogs this frail. I would notice them more often cause now, if I had to guess I would say I was subconsciously, maybe consciously looking for them. I probably should have stuck to my argument because the dogs were clearly still alive many weeks later so the house wasn’t abandoned.

Now, it is raining season and guess what? The whole street is flooded, now imagine our abandoned house. I drive slow, wading through the water trying to get a glimpse of the dogs and I see them wet and cuddled up at the corner. It’s quite sad but what can I do. The streets seldom clear up but the compound stays flooded, the water has nowhere to go. Sometimes I drive by and don’t notice the dogs and I wonder if they’ve had their last visit from the elements, it’s sad but what can I do.

While driving I notice a caretaker, well at least a gateman – not much being taken care of – and I see him interacting with the dogs. I think to myself, following a warm deep sigh “they are still alive”. On my way back from work a few days after, I see a dog seated on the sand bank in front of my neighbor’s house. It’s a spitting image of the dogs from the flooded compound. Its timid and disturbs no one so no one pays it any mind. A couple of days later, it moves from there to the planted shrubs in front of my home and squeezes between them and the wall, I assume it was more comfortable there.

After a few attempts of chasing it away but to no avail, a conversation was had and now we feed her and give her water every day. Weeks in the future and she is a dog collectively owned by the whole street. She is bubbly and plays with everyone, you would never imagine she was one of the dogs from the flooded house. To be honest, I am not 100% sure if she is but who is bothered enough to find out. We named her Hope because if she was one of those dogs, she would have only gotten this far with a little bit of hope.


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