By Issa Babatunde Ahmed
On a windy day, going through Lagos; a land of many inhabitants and a melting pot of all sorts of tribes, I turn up the collar on my favorite raining coat. The wind is blowing in my face and fanning my thoughts. I see children on the streets with not enough to eat. They follow each other as if ordered around by the wind. The truth is they have nowhere to go. There are so many of them out there – struggling (endlessly), seeking shelter, feeding, and clothing without any hope that such basic needs will be met but my fear now is that they are fast becoming loose street gangs of teenage boys with access to drugs and weapons ready to commit crimes as drastic as murder. Just like me, if you had a heart of passion, you couldn’t pretend blind to their needs.