The Nightmare in which I am Nigerian

"Awaiting Dawn" by olivia oyibo

Sometimes, I feel I am in this bad dream and when I wake, I'd find out I am really Canadian or American or French or Ghanaian.

See, in this bad dream I am Nigerian- a country where lawlessness is celebrated, where teenagers are locked up for stealing phones while pot bellied politicians break away with billions of our naira in dollars and in property.

See, in this bad dream, our president trivialises corruption by saying " It's JUST stealing" while his wife cries in the name of God on TV making a mockery of the intellect of the average Nigerian.

In this dream, students get killed because they happen to be trying to get an education (For which there are no jobs but they don't know this yet) and 200 Chibok girls get abducted but life goes on as usual.

Except that the first lady interrupts life by making that show of crying on TV because the international community has put us on the spot. (Oh, repitition abi? I mentioned this already third paragraph above)

In this dream, I feel so powerless about making any positive changes ( I wore a head gear for my son and put up # bring back our girls# on BBM).

So, I go to a salon for a hair retouch (12 weeks of new growth), go shopping for clothes with cousins, watch TV, improve on my photography and google Immigration Canada.

Then at Night, I remember those girls and whisper a prayer for their rescue and thank God that me and mine are safe.

And as I slip into another dream, I hope to God that it is the one from which I shall awaken to my American heritage.

Where my blood is worth more than a show of tears put together by a first lady and her aides.