Once upon a time, this structure was an infrastructure; looked upon with respect; honoured by the house it resided. Once upon a long time ago, this structure was a relief.
I imagine the father of the household, pressed, but happy he doesn’t have to use the bush.
I imagine him bringing his less fortunate friends around, and showing off, with pride glowing on his face, his beautiful pit toilet.
I imagine Mr Pit Toilet looking glistening, its zinc body shining, standing tall and proud, enjoying the care of the household.
Then one day, came a white porcelain bowl with matching box they called cistern. Perhaps, it was a family member living in the city, who brought it saying, “this one is the latest, it can even be installed in the house, no one would need to use the pit toilet again.”
Soon, our friend, Mr Pit Toilet notice no one comes to use him anymore. No one as much as glances its way. No one thought to clean it or perfume its inside.
Its body is rusted. Broken. Its roof, sunken. Its only companion are bushes no one thought to clear. Abandoned. Forgotten. Rejected.
Isn’t the life of man the same in some ways? This pit toilet is every man who was once rich. This pit toilet is that big man that was once the pride of everyone but is now poor and forgotten and abandoned to fend for himself.
Dereliction is the act of abandoning something, or the state of being abandoned.