Molue

The beast of the road, so nostalgic a bus;

The type painted in yellow before modernisation emerged,

The memory of jumping molue now came to me as a rush,

At whose entrance the calamity of humanity submerged;

Molue once acclaimed lasgidi king of the road,

The walking mammon that fumes like Apapa chimney,

Within its midst ethnicity mingled with people and load,

Molue, the rescuer of the just and lonely…

This is another market place on the run,

A place to barter your footwear for the fare,

Within its midst we trade, party and fun,

Only few can challenge the conductors that were mean and dear;

In the Molue, robbers dare not prevail,

When the anthills dwell among commuters,

But beware of the pilferers and pickpockets on the rails,

They were the agberos that pretend to be transporters;

Molue the envious of its pairs,

On whose body tattoos of praises and inspiration engraved,

Molue that scares the warders by its stares;

The only abode the meek and lowly craved;

Even as frail and rickety thou remain undaunted, 

But thy reign has finally screeched to a halt,

The rulers has made thy sanctuary haunted;

Thy existence has gone to the forgotten vault;

(Poem: “Molue” by Olorunleke Odubote)

Molue are the type of buses commonly used in lagos some few years ago.