Paper people, the name is call my country. They are filled with so much life and activities that you might not see how thin the line that holds us together is. Iya Tobe is the woman who fries plantain, yam and potatoes every night beside the complete erosion filled road that led to my grans fathers house in akure. It is from my window up afraid through moving leaves that I watch her fill the air with gorgeous tastes . People come and go and with orders of what to eat even if she has just three things on her menu. Why didn't anyone notice that her so called son Tobe had never come to her corner?
Where was the child that gave his mother Iya?
Did she have a husband?
Where did she live?
These were but a few questions I asked my mind as I watched her from above.
Paper people are those who walk by without asking the mere question of how are you?
Paper people are also those, like Iya Tobe who live their lives without wondering what else it could offer.
They are people though powerfulthey seem but torn they really are
Look around you and you will see people are called friends but are just ants over a sugar cube. It's for this reason that both those who walk the streets and those who watch others walk the streets are both tearable or can easily fly away
We are paper made from wood, why can't we be stronger?
