Mounds of fresh tomatoes
Basins of crayfish
Waist beads of various colors 
Fifty naira a packet
Market women peddling their goods
Arms grabbing and waving me over
"Aunty come and buy this one"
The scent of goat meat wafts through the air
The butcher carving his meat
Flip flops slap against the back of my heel
As I weave between, kiosk after kiosk
The scorching sun on my back and neck
Moist palms from the heat
"Ada carry this bag"
I look at her with spite for not offering to take it from me 
Her retched braids with their seams undone
Finger across her forehead
And in one smooth motion
Wipes the sweat off her brows
With a small smile she says
"Let's go home"
And I agree with her
After all, tomorrow is another day (Last line from Gone with the wind, Margaret Mitchell)