By Shem Onderi
Money is made here.
Currency circulates at the bus stage.
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Nobody owns the bus stage,
for each one comes, transacts and leaves.
There is commotion and tranquillity.
Vehicles enter as others exit;
each passenger van leaves in its direction,
even as the exit is one.
Most times, the bus stage is dirty, filthy,
with litter strewn all over
and trenches clogged.
Some passengers are new to the bus stage—
first-timers are misled.
Records of luggage lost are in volumes:
some recorded as live hens bound together,
others as clothing,
some as children lost or left behind
by weary parents for the world to nurture.
Thieves thrive at the bus stage.
Evangelists and their gospel earn at the bus stage.
Hawkers nourish their stock and beg to sell.
At the bus stage, future couples meet.
Then day ushers in night at the bus stage.
Night traders take position.
Quietly, stock moves.
The chill and cold of the night
usher in day for another busy bus stage.
