I walk into a Port Harcourt Street and I see broken coconut shells littered everywhere.
Shells not naked. Still clothed with fruit, dust and sand seem to have settled on the fruit but it still displays its whiteness.
I look around and see a church on the side of the street. There is what can pass for a signpost close by. The pastor is an Igbo man, his assistant an Akwa Ibom man, and a Calabar man is the head usher of the church - did I say church? Have I been saying church?Anyways, an Ikwerre elder is their landlord, and I'm like:
What the hell is going on here!!!
