Cyprian Ekwensi

The city was a world of its own, with its own rules and its own rhythm.

In the city, a man could be anything he chose to be, if only he had the courage.

It was not easy to keep one’s heart clean in a place where temptation lurked at every corner.

Money was the language they all understood, the only master to whom all bowed.

He felt alone in the crowd—a stranger among strangers.

Every man carried his own sorrows, and in the city, no one paused to share them.

The city swallowed dreams as quickly as it gave birth to them.

He looked at the sky above the city and wondered if the stars shone as brightly in the villages.

Women in the city were like the rivers—beautiful, dangerous, and always moving.

To survive in the city, you must learn to wear a mask.

Music was his refuge, the one place where he could be himself.

The city’s lights never went out, not even for the weary hearts that walked its streets.