It was a cool, quiet evening—one of those rare days when the city seemed to exhale. I boarded the bus home from work, grateful for the unusual calm. The vehicle was only half-full, a welcome contrast to the usual chaos of rush hour. The driver was sealed off in his little cubicle up front, and we passengers were scattered like leaves on a still pond. Among them was a man who immediately caught my eye—late 60s, wearing a crisp white cap that read ' Chosen One' in bold black letters. He was flipping through a newspaper with such frantic energy it looked like he was searching for something long lost—or perhaps arguing with the headlines themselves. Opposite him sat another older man, though you wouldn't know it from his clothes. He was dressed like a teenager—like someone clinging to relevance with both hands. Then, out of nowhere, the man in the cap spoke, loud and clear, as if addressing a courtroom rather than a quiet bus. 'Does time determine what's right or wrong...
UPON THE MOUNTAIN “What would happen if you do not make this jump?” She asked herself while standing on one of the highest points of the Olumo Rock. She got to that point with the company of other tourists chatting their lives away and taking memorable pictures of one another. However, the majority of the crowd took the road more travelled by; the stairs that looked newly built to help the young and old. Here, a lift(s) will be a bad idea knowing the nature of our electricity system. We call it kpa na kpa na! Being the daring type, she decided to take the route less followed; the inner rocks. She got past the shrine where the tour guard had explained they sacrificed animals to the gods who in turn protected tourists from any danger. Some rocks looked like humans turned into stones; they have been there for thousands of years. It was a marvel, all she wanted to do was to go further until she got to the highest point of the mountain. It would be one grand achiev...