The new gold.

Auntie H. stand at we gate, telling me and ma how many bags of it she buy. She describe it so well, shiverrrrs of envy run through me. We decide immediately to buy plenty, plenty bags of it too, instead of the odd bag now and then.

Look at this, eh, I marvel, it used to be a lowly thing that people scoff at, turn up they nose when they see it on we streets. Now, high demand make it disappear quicker than if Sir Walter Raleigh did find gold in El Dorado.

The real value of it come to me thanks to the experience four months ago.

I spot it one afternoon, fresh, new, on the driveway of a house we had for rent. Nobody ain’t gon want it, I say. When it dry, I gon take it.

I wait.

Kids’ nation move in two houses across the road - don’t see no grown-ups, only two little boys, about nine and ten years old, raking and sweeping cut grass on the parapet, wheeling a barrow. Next day there they been again, rakin’ an’ sweepin’ another section of the parapet. Supervising them, in a li'l pram nearby, was a li’l baby with he hair do-up in tiny cane-row plaits.

Some days later I decide the time was right. I go with bucket, spade and gloves and…

…gone!

The thing gone.

Cow dung is the new gold!

I wonder what the value is on Wall Street, what with people going green, eco- and trying to save dollars not buying toxic no more.