In Lagos mornings, the cries begin
“Pure water!” “Gala!” voices ring
Under the sun or in pouring rain
Vendors sing through struggle and pain
Each shout a song, survival’s hymn.
From Ojota
markets to Surulere’s street
Hustle and sweat in the burning heat
Balancing trays with unwavering pride
Children and mothers walking side by side
Lagos moves to the vendor’s beat.
The danfo
honks, the bridges shake
Yet vendors push on, make or break
Selling hope with every call
Chasing dreams though pockets small
In Lagos, no effort goes to waste.
Oh, Lagos,
your vendors tell the tale
Of courage that thrives where odds prevail
Their anthem rises, bold and true
A chorus of millions breaking through
The heart of Lagos will never fail.
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