The Highway Predators

In the heart of Lagos, where broken engines cry, Agberos descend like vultures from the sky. A stranded motorist becomes their prey, As innocent pockets bleed in broad daylight’s day. They swarm around the vehicle, their threats a vicious tide, With sticks and fists of menace, they leave no room to hide. A breakdown becomes a sentence, a roadside court of shame, Where helpless drivers pay extortion just to escape the flame. Yet darker than their violence is the mindset that remains, Of those who fight development and profit from our pains. They see a road as a kingdom, a nuisance as their throne, And guard their petty empires while progress stands alone. They cripple every vision that dares to pave the way, Turning public roads to fiefdoms where fear collects its pay. They prey upon the innocent, then boast of local pride, But culture without conscience is corruption dressed in pride.