Last night, along Asokoro, I saw swollen stomachs,
Dressed in agbada
And expensive danshiki
Gulping, and tearing fat laps of innocent fowls,
Shaking Inspector Muhammadu Farouk
With their right hands
And with their left
Handing unto Williams Barclay
Some brown parcel
What is my with those ugly foxes
Who feast on the intestine of their own countrymen?
Woh… abeg! My eyes are too heavy for mucus
so long my bed denies no sleep!
I woke up the following morning
To see some uncircumcised termites
slinging away my properties
“WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?”
I SHOUTED in bewilderment
And in an unfamiliar accent
A taunting toad THUNDERED:
“SHAT’ AH FACK’ AP, MONKEY YOR COUNTRY HAS BEEN SOLD!”
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