The Young Hawker In Aba

Some of us were born grown
While some of us got the chance to grow
Thus into the sea of hustles of life we were fully thrown
The dining table depended on how many times we went to and fro

She knows the Aba streets and it's squalour
To the tourist on her tray she is a trusted guide
Her red purse praying the reason for her tour doesn't stay fallow
So it's return home shall be swollen with pride

Some have called it child labour
But the family sees in her a favour
It's smile depends on her sore soles
Without her, the tale of Aba is like a bucket with holes. ~ Tee2emm