Content warning:
in a dream i don’t tell anyone about
two boys my age are on their way home from madrasah
one picks up a hundred naira note by the roadside
& suddenly becomes the texture of the wind
breaking news
at the cemetery some buried corpses are missing again
lost if found please return to the nearest lichyard
you ask why i write verses about grief & missing people
don’t you understand tomorrow you/i may be the next
person plucked from the face of the earth lost
& never to be found again
my uncle walks around with amulets tied to his waist
at night his wife recites ayyatul kurisiyyu from the Qur’an
& teaches the children how to say
bismillah tawakkalti ‘alal-laah …
before leaving the house every morning
i too understand the sacrament in which we beseech Allah
to be our sanctuary
& protect us from the hands that keep snatching
snatching souls away from our bodies
teach me how to survive the night teach me
how to weather the day in a country where every road
seems to lead to the waiting mouth of death