The Mayor sings for himself

(i)

I am the man who Kan

Father, son and lover

The one they call Mayor

(ii)

They call me father

I see the big nose

I take in the pointed chin

I know without a doubt

That these are the fruits of my loins

(iii)

I am Oyibo’s son

Brain pickled by Alzheimer’s

She forgets my name

The son who nursed at her teats

This son who misses his mother

With an ache that threatens

To splinter the heart

Rend it in two like the Temple veil

(iv)

I am Mister Lover-lover

The one who comes first,

Everywhere, except in bed

Finger tips febrile with heat

I sire goose bumps with my touch

My kisses are dripping honey combs

I love like a giddy teenager and

Manic with passion I rage all night

Like Ogun high on wine and blood-lust

(v)

They call me Mayor

Jolly Papas and Barons of Paris

This man who found Lagos in his 20s

And claimed it for his own

Home may not be hearth

But wherever Isu sets down his burden becomes home

This is home, this Lagos where I lay my head

Like the Iroko, I have set down roots deep into this city

And Las Gidi looked me in the eye and christened me Mayor.

Oshaaaaaaay.