He fainted there,
Where he stood in the line for food.

The sun was high.
Dizziness overcame him,
Barely fifteen we could see.

Days with little food,
They said.
Many days with little to eat,
This fainting is long overdue anyway.

In his dirtied tattered clothing,
His bowl for alms begging,
Tightly clutched,
The Almajiri did not revive.

© David Onotu 2016

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