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Time for draft, fish can rest


time for draft, fish can rest
time for draft, fish can rest
The sky brightens progressively turning from grey to pale blue. The line of horizon is filled with large dark-grey clouds. Above my head some elongated clouds have turned to white in high altitude while those a little lower catch their first shade of pink.
The illumination of Lekki bridge has just been switched off, it must be around 6.30am. Traffic is light, nonetheless some pick-up trucks carry their loads of construction workers and fill the air with dark exhaust smoke. Probably thirty people squeeze, on the open platform at the back of the truck, around a cement mixer and a few piled up tools. Some of them sit on the platform lid. Truck with passengers look like a truncated pyramid on wheels choking its way up the Lekki Bridge. Coming down will generate less smoke because there will be not need to press the accelerator. Gravity is strong enough for the vehicle to gather speed downwards towards the toll gate.
At this hour, there are more pedestrians on the bridge than car passengers. Early morning Lagosians come to exercise on the bridge, one of the few places where walking, running and cycling is more than just tolerated. It is accepted by vehicle drivers who anywhere else would attempt to push pedestrians and cyclist aside to affirm their self-appointed superiority, deeming the road is theirs.
the sun is coming now now
the sun is coming out now now
The intensity of the light increases by the minute and a pink glow intensifies as the sun rises behind the clouds on the horizon. Soon the sun's upper edge is visible, revealing the woolly structure of the clouds on the line of horizon. Soon it appears as a full disc and radiates timidly through the humid air of the ocean.
Meanwhile on the water, a few fishing boats have gathered under the bridge, tied one to the other. Three men are absorbed in a game of draft, while a few others rest on the pile of the bridge where fishing nets are hung. Perhaps it is too late or too early to go fishing, or perhaps the fish never come.
a glorious ascend to work
a glorious ascend to work
One truck has had to interrupt its climate-unfriendly ascend of the bridge, a tyre has been punctured. The truck is tilted on the front right, which is accentuated by a faulty shock absorber. Passengers have had to disembarked and sit expectantly on the road side. Obviously there is no spare tyre on that truck.
As I walk past, I am thinking that I am glad my legs will carry me to breakfast unimpeded.

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