Tucked away
Out of sight
In the relative quiet
Suburban outskirt
But part of the inner city;
At times vividly colourful
Other times esoteric: Here
Life is lived precariously
With high doses of passion
With instinct for zest and follicle
With people in love with danger
So often locked in marriage;
In dance of nightly cultivated rituals
Of eating food like in dump and sterile
Dowsed in beers laughter rising in waves:
Garki drudgery pit hole churning gold
Garki of people and animals in drags
Tucked to neighbours among most rich
Garki is home to throng of unhappy lives
Garki, is a village drowning in Abuja's smog
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem