If you don’t see me in the parade today
Do not think I love my country’s less
Our line will be short at the stadium today
Short, very short like a stunted rope
Umaru vanished from the school register some weeks ago
after throwing his satchel into an angry river
one unhappy morning
Akanni now haunts the motor park
Alternating petty trading with petty thieving
Ngozi left one noon without a word
cruelly corralled into the harem
of a man whose youngest daughter
is about her age
The teacher says our parents are poor
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and our names are dirty
the blackboard has sprouted a thousand thorns
the new school gate is locked and keyed
If you do not see me in the parade today
Do not think I love my country less
We eat once a day
when there is anything to eat.
When the pots are silent
and the kitchen is closed
when dinner turns into dina**
and dessert ends up as a desert
we sprawl on our crowded mats
and count the stars
through our leaking roof
My legs are straw
my head spins like a wheel
my flat stomach is
a pit for warring worms
If you don’t see me in the parade today
Do not think I love my country less
*First published in Songs of the Season; updated and re-used here with significant amendments.
**Way-blocker