Nigeria’s Rank and File

WARNING: Based on the advice of one’s lawyers, any semblance of the attitudes and endeavours represented here to actual Nigerian attitudes and endeavours is entirely as a result of your fevered imagination. Our favourite pharmaceutical products marketer warns that if symptoms of this fever persists after three days, see a doctor.

I thought to bring the music back to poetry. This poem is to be chanted.

Once met a soldier boy
With whom I wanted to toy
Of cigars he reeked
And of spirits he stank

I drew up to him and said
“Officer, you rank.”
He beamed down at me and said
“Corporal, my friend”

Once met a politician
Whose ass I wanted to kiss
Of corruption he oozed
Of nepotism he reeked

I sidled up to him and prayed
“Rankadede my god”
He beamed down at me cooing
“It’s only God my son”

Once met a feminist
Whom I wanted to fuck (real bad)
Hypocrisy she spouted
Against men she railed

I gave her a gun
“Die for Nigeria my dear”
She gave me a stare
“Are all the men dead?”

Once met a pastor
Whom looked ripe for a ride
He sizzled and crackled
And popped and puffed up

“I’m thinking: the church
or that damned orphanage?”
“You’re thinking? Amazing!
Seek ye first the kingdom of God!”

Once met an activist
I thought I should tease
He painted masterpieces
Sleek Da Vinci he

“My good man, behold
There Tahrir Square Egyptians.”
“What cheek? Bravado
And keyboards go best together!”


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