Imagine Nigerians

To imagine Nigerians on a queue
Is to imagine all the colours in one painting
Each shade trying to outshine the other.

Those queues are a cue for stampede
With no age restrictions, Or gender
We shall all scramble to the front.

There are those with saved up paces
They emerge when it’s almost your turn
“I was here hours ago” and so the story goes.

Some immediately get pregnant on the spot
Preying on the empathy of others
Falsehood will get you through the line
If you know the right words to say.

Vera