By Their Roads…

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By their deeds, says the Bible, we shall know them.  For some states, however, by their roads we shall know them.  Grim one for travellers, though.

Hardball, with some other colleagues, had cause to travel, last weekend, for the funeral service of a colleague’s father.  Destination was Kabba, in Kogi State. And most of the distance traversed was between Ekiti and Kogi states, a two-some sharing soaring notoriety in road decay.  Indeed, after the seeming endless travel, a lady among the travelling party joked on phone: we had toured all of the “endless” Ekiti, yet the journey was nowhere near its ending!

In Ekiti, Fayose’s country, there was virtually nothing happening. As the party traversed the wonderful greenery of what should have been a rustic paradise, what coursed through the perceptive mind was sheer paralysis: no new schools, no new life, no new roads — except, of course, the concrete eyesore that violently bifurcated a section of the Ado Ekiti main artery, a very epitome of flyover-for-flyover’s sake. A government without ideas never merrily exposed itself so starkly!

But that wasn’t even the main gist. The main story was the Ikole-Oye-Aiyedun-Omuo Ekiti axis, where a long stretch of road, hitherto a relief to motorists, is breaking up fast.  Along the route too, you saw a school block roof completely blown off; and other school buildings, mere carcasses without window frame — again, ample evidence of a government on seeming vacation.

Indeed, you got that sorry feeling that over here, in hardy Ekiti country, government had taken a break, and there was absolutely nothing the people could do about it. Well, it’s Ekiti country, and Emperor (sorry, Governor ) Ayodele Fayose had taken full time off government work for meaningless stunts. Tough luck for his electors!

But as dreary and dreadful the Ikole-Omuo stretch had become, it was only a mild dress rehearsal for the hell to come — and that very hell started in earnest from the Iyamoye-Ekirin-Adde-Iffe-Iyara -Egbeda-Kabba axis!

Geez!  Ever seen a fitting metaphor for once-upon-a-road? This was it.

“Don’t they have a governor here?” Someone snapped, as the bus lunged and plunged into big craters.

“As a matter of fact, they do,” another replied, all sarcasm.  “But he only comes home during weekends!” The laconic wit was biting.

“No wonder,” the lady that initiated the discourse admitted. “How else would the entrance into your state look like this — and you still claim to be governor!”

Though the bumps and craters would ease off as you eventually approached Kabba, for the traveller, the harm was already done.

But before you were even celebrating, Kabba soon revealed itself as hopeless captive to water erosion, which has done endless havoc to its roads, many of which appear really old, and untouched for a long, long time.

At a particular T-junction, the erosion completely washed off the tar, as if bragging who was lord of the manor in the land! The rest of most of the road stock was a canvas of potholes and craters.

So, when the holy book says by their fruits we shall know them, luckless travellers, put through this daily grind could we ll echo: yeah, by our roads, we shall shall know them!

It is a sad story of how rot, not life, defines a state — or two.  Sad!

Credit: Nation


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