Murtala Mohammed
December 2nd 2005 Warri to Lagos, passing chaos alongside the road. Through the marks of civilization, wooden frames empty and others filled with various dallies of cheap Chinese junk, together sheltered with the tatters of canvas stretched overhead. They were empty, so empty it's worth mentioning again: They were empty, derelict, dry like a Mojave ghost-town with their rotting planks of siding.
Further, dee
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