Banana Lady’s Baby

Hello Banana Lady’s Baby. I am not sure if you are a boy or girl, what your name is, or what your future holds but I saw you from a car as I passed on the street in Dakar. You sit snuggly against your mother’s back and bottom, wrapped in an old towel as she sells bananas from the platter on her head along the side of the main road through the city. You didn’t seem to notice, but there was an almost constant cloud of blue smoke from the beat up buses, cars, and motos that pass by you all day long. Your mom was working hard when I saw her, balancing you and her bananas, smiling and selling her produce to hungry passerbys as best she could. There were many other banana ladies at the same intersection, some with their own babies.

When I was a baby like you, I think I had a mobil and a quiet crib full of toys to keep me occupied. You have the horns, whistles, and shouts of a busy road and the motion of your mother’s back to take care of you. I don’t know what will happen to you, but I would guess that in just a few years you will still be with your mom, but her back will hold your little brother or sister then, and you will be selling bananas next to them. Will you go to school or will you work all day instead? I’m not sure, but I know that you will know what hard work is at a very young age. In fact, somehow you already do.