Silent Stars of the Streets: A Salute to Cross River’s Road Sweepers

Anthony EKPO BASSEY 

Before the cock crows and while the stars still smile, a silent squad of selfless souls set out with brooms in their hands and their hearts full of hope. These are the road sweepers of Cross River State, the quiet custodians of our clean cityscapes, the often-unseen heroines who sweep away yesterday’s dust so today can begin fresh and bright.

I remember speaking with several of them not long ago, women wrapped in weary wears. They shared stories soaked in struggle and sacrifice. Their voices, though soft, were soaked in sincerity. “We rise before the roosters, rain or shine,” one said. “But our pay is like pocket change. It barely feeds a fowl.” Another whispered, “We sweep with strength, but suffer in silence.”

These are not complaints, but cries. They are cries from calloused hands and cracked heels. And yet, they keep sweeping, scrubbing the soul of the city, bearing burdens that do not belong to them. They polish pavements, sweep streets, and gather the grime of the day before. Yet, when praises are passed, their names are not numbered. When rewards are reaped, their backs remain bare.

Let it be known: no broom is beneath dignity, no street too small for significance. A clean road is a canvas, and they are the unseen artists who brush it daily. It is said that “the hen that wakes the village deserves a golden grain,” and truly, these sweepers stir our streets before sunrise, preparing the way for commerce, comfort, and calm.

To the good and gold-hearted Governor of Cross River State, His Excellency, Senator Bassey Edet Otu, a man known for mercy and memory, may this message meet you in your moment of magnanimity. Sir, these sweepers are not seeking silver ceilings, only simple sustenance. They do not demand diamonds but only daily bread that does not disappear before dusk.

Let us  not let their sweat be in vain, nor their sacrifices be swept under the rug. For what good is a clean city if the cleaners go hungry? What pride lies in polished pavements when those who polish them cannot pay school fees or afford medicine?

Governor, a stitch in time saves nine. A raise in remuneration is not only a reward, it is a recognition of their relevance. Let their labour not be love lost. Bless them with better pay, dignify their days, and let your legacy be littered not with forgetfulness but with fairness.

After all, as the old saying goes, “He who fetches firewood for the village must not freeze in the cold.” Our sweepers have fetched cleanliness for Cross River. Now, let kindness fetch them comfort.

To our broom-bearers, the dawn-dancers, the dust-defeaters, may your days be bright, your burdens be lighter, and may the winds of justice finally sweep in your favour.