It’s September 6, Friday.
I am here at Siruma. It is my first time here. A coastal town I used to hear from my Uncle and my friend-bro A and now I am here. Amazed. It is so quaint but has a lot of potential.
The sun’s just come up. We are on our way back to the convent when we chance upon this shed. As we come nearer to it, it’s not a shed, it’s a public market as what is painted on its roof.
We are all dumbfounded to see it before our eyes that indeed it says public market. Our initial reaction just show that this supposed market is definitely not the ideal market we all know and expected to see. It lacks stalls. It is standing yet covered with so much grass. No one, no one is busy or noisy selling something. If I am to imagine the usual market I know this would not come close in comparison.
I am not much of a politically opinionated person but seeing something like this makes me question how leaders in our place think. Or are they really thinking at all? I feel depressed a bit and soon set it aside by making a joke of it.
“Maybe they should just change “Siruma Public Market” to “Waiting Shed” painted with all the names of its donors and even all the public officials who made it possible. Truly an epitaph for them though they’re still living.”