i at Ikoyi Link bridge, a bullet kisses my brother's forehead, betrays him into the hands of the grave like Judas to his Master, and the shrapnel mirrors my brother's name in the breaking news. shooting at Lekki-Ikoyi Link bridge; 21 slightly injured, 14 hospitalized, 7 dead.
the tv screens a slideshow of passport photographs of faces whose bodies have found new homes in hospitals.
ii headline: on a bus at Lagos-Ibadan expressway, a kid takes a nap hoping towards home & gets kidnapped. parents' phone calls search the voices of their children to lead them home/ somewhere, the telephone tells a boy's father; this number is not reachable, try again in another lifetime, thank you.
iii in this country, the news chooses which bodies to mourn; on national tv, the president declares a holiday to mourn the death of a minister. somewhere, 13 country men slaughtered by unknown gunmen are buried behind the homes that bore them / their country no longer recognise their grief.
iv everytime the news casts names of dead brothermen, i get absorbed in a pain i do not own & die in it to find myself again and again, and till my body no longer feels like home/ till my country no longer feels like home.
v here, the news is an ally of grief, an advert of dead bodies/ lost from broken homes. 8:19 pm at Egbeda lga/ i sit, watching the news read dead names and the weather forecasts: 31°C today, heavy rainfall— [the weather too sympathizes with us].
Agboola Tariq Adebola is an unfolding poet from Western Nigeria & a student of law in the University of Ibadan. He explores in his writings, self/ identity & spaces he occupies. Some of his works are forthcoming/in Eunoia Review, IceFloe Press, Hellebore, Fiery Scribe Review, Verum Literary Press. He tweets: @Agboola_Tariq_A.