Nigerian Prayer (after Louis MacNeice)

I am Nigerian;

console me

When PHCN cuts the power
And I cannot charge my phone
Or watch the news, or iron my clothes
For days and days.

I am Nigerian;
            preserve me
When I board rickety buses
From Oshodi to Apapa
And beaten minivans
From Uyo to Port Harcourt.

Shield me

From armed robbers who might hide in bushes
From ghastly accidents
Head on collisions
Potholed roads.

I am Nigerian;
            insulate me
From the traffic hawker who will try to make away with my change
And the bus conductor who won’t take my money
And the bank customer who doesn’t like to stand in queues
And the shop attendant who hates my face.
            Protect me
From kidnappers who steal humans for ransom
And suicide bombers who look like average people
And policemen who concoct laws
And ministry workers who would rather sell DaViva out of car boots.

I am Nigerian;
            forgive me
When I tweak the PHCN dial
And pray death for my landlord
And plagues for VIO
And boils for my boss.

I am Nigerian;
            provide me
With music that causes amnesia
With jokes that cause happiness
With laughter that drowns sorrows
With smiles that cover suffering.
            Provide me
With hospitals to birth my children in
With schools to place my children in
With gutters that are not open
With roads that do not flood.
           

Because my government

Freezes my humanity
Dragoons me into a lethal automaton
Makes me a cog in a machine
A thing with one face
A thing.
            It
Dissipates my entirety
Blows me like thistledown hither and thither
Or hither and thither
Like water held in the hands
It spills me.

I am Nigerian;
            O hear me.