When Nigeria happens
When Nigeria happens to you
Two things take place.
In the aftermath of the storm.
You either shrug
Giving a slight acknowledgement
To the tremors in you
Or you crack
Seeping out red fluid
I hear they call it blood.
Nigeria happens to you
When you wear a skirt
And a boy throws stones at you
Under the watchful eyes of his Mother as he chant insults
Because she did not tell him
It is wrong to hate people,
That do not look like you
Or bear your name.
Then you shrug
Pushing aside tremors of shame
And wear a long skirt tomorrow.
Or you lie on the floor in the aftemath
Of a riot.
Hoping the men think you are dead
Bleeding from your face.
Stilling your chest
While they hold machetes in the air.
Nigeria happens to you
When you enter one chance
But get off the bus
Because it broke down before the evil forest.
Then you shrug and say thank God oh!
Not questioning why you
Feel less safe
Ignoring the tremors and quakes
In your chest.
Or you lie on the floor
Inhaling the metallic smell
Of blood
As the girl beside you
Gets her neck cut
And you pray it never gets to your turn
Like the heroine of a Mount Zion movie.
Nigeria happens to you
When FRSC tells you
That your tyres are expired
But you shrug and scratch your head
And explain that Ikechuwku,
Your mechanic swore by his dead mother
That they were new.
But you remember that you can't call him
Because he said he has gone to visit her
Or was it her grave?
You pay the fine
And tremors shake you
And you let it loose on your wife.
Or SARS tells you
That Benzes are for Yahoo boys
That your PayPal account
Is credited by white women
That you swindle
Writing love letters to them.
While blood pours out of your mouth.
You can not explain
That Upwork is not Tinder
And that content writing is not 419.
So you let the boots bite into you
As you gather the shards
Of your broken laptop.
This is what happens when Nigeria happens to you
S. I. Ibe
