A thesis on why Nigerians do not dream
In Nigeria, many are asleep, but only very few are dreaming
You see, Nigeria is not really a country that allows you to dream
Because when you sleep, you do so in a pool of your own sweat, as if you
Are still working for your daily bread
You convince yourself this is what it’s like to have a waterbed
Because when you sleep, you keep one eye open for mosquitoes
Another eye open for burglars, robbers, bandits, and EFCC gymnasts
Because we are so used to sleeping in the dark
That sometimes, even in our dreams, we forget to put on the light
Because dreams are like eggs
They are fragile, and they break in your palms because Nigeria gives you a seizure
Because dreams are like eggs
They used to be on every family’s dining table, but have now become a luxury only a few can afford
Because the economy of greed has driven up the price of dreams
Just as it did for education and freedom and dignity
Because dreams are dangerous
To dream is to raise your head above the trenches at the front lines
To dream is to proclaim sight in the middle of a fog
To dream is to stray from the comfort of the herd and the restraints of the shepherd
To dream is to declare yourself better than the rest of your comrades
What do you mean you deserve better?
So, Nigerians do not dream
They plot and they wait, they plot and they wait
They are the most patient people on earth, but also full of great mischief
They plot to take from Caesar what belongs to Caesar and take from the Tsar what belongs to the Tsar
They plot to rob the Samaritan of his goodness and the brother’s keeper of his keep
They plot how to turn their shackles into shekels and their leashes into riches
Like crabs in a bucket, they plot how to pull down the dreamers
How to stay ahead in a world of fuckers and the fucked
They serve the ruling class of slave masters and plot so that they may also rule and enslave
The best of them stay and strike at their shackles with what little strength they can gather
The best of them leave and drag their shackles around the world, wondering if they ever get lighter
The people plot and they wait, they plot and they wait
They plot to escape
To escape hunger
To escape shame
To escape this white land that is never peaceful, this green land with no harvests
The people plot and they wait, they plot and they wait
They never plot a revolution, though
Because then
They would have to dream
