Recently reading OurManInShanghai's great blog post called "Two wheels of glory and a brain bucket!" brought back memories of growing up in Nigeria with motorcycle taxis which we call "Okadas".

I remember writing a small ode (in jest of course!) back in 2006 to motorcycle taxis (honestly!) and dug it back up.

[Locusts of the Automotive World]

They strike without warning

Like bats from hell

Their engines a' roaring

Sputtering out the worst smell

Tipping at unnatural angles

They defy gravity

Carrying everything from shingles

To mirrors with audacity

East is West

North is South

But only these pests

Signal their directions with a shout

Not even a child

No one is free

A bet oh! so mild

Says the child is Passenger #3