Ever lost such an addictive modern
Gadgetry, Phones.That instant,
You must felt a sweeping jolt of crushing grief
Like one with beloved child dead.
It’s more like been thrown into
Pit of eternal darkness. Such
Is the negative impact it has on the users.
Once dribbled into similar situation,
The poet swiftly moves for replacement.
Constrained yet by the season's leanness, muse.
Though an ultra-cheap brand will suffice here,
But a metallic padded, flip or slide-wonder always
Is choice. He slipped into computer-village,
Ignoring the inviting standard galleries along,
Then shuffles pitch his tent with
A chanced trackless-hawker on the tarmac,
The trail ever by a loud caveat emptor,
Haggling session commenced, spent,
For a slim used popular brand.
Tested and packed and paid for,
But unreceipted. Smiling it was a good bargain.
The poet arrives home, excited.
Then proceeds to proudly unwrap
His branded London-used silvery
Status-defining new acquisition; Eagerly,
A couple of friends looked on. What unfolds?
At the tips of his anticipatory touch,
Lo and Behold was carcass of a dead phone,
Stuffed with Fufu for a panel.
Stunned into dead-silence,
Bewildered with disbelief,
The poet bleeds raw rage having fallen prey
To a tasteless sleight-of-hands con
Of the reckoned Lagos smart alecks. At last,
His many years of conceited
Caution breached.The age long snag,
There is none immune to trickery, confirmed.
NOTE: Fufu is a white starchy food made from cassava.