NOT MY BUSINESS BY NIYI OSUNDARE

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They picked Akanni up one morning

Beat him soft like clay

And stuffed him down the belly

Of a waiting jeep.

What business of mine is it

So long they don’t take the yam

From my savouring mouth?

They came one night

Booted the whole house awake

And dragged Danladi out,

Then off to a lengthy absence.

What business of mine is it

So long they don’t take the yam

From my savouring mouth?

Chinwe went to work one day

Only to find her job was gone:

No query, no warning, no probe –

Just one neat sack for a stainless record.

What business of mine is it

So long they don’t take the yam

From my savouring mouth?

And then one evening

As I sat down to eat my yam

A knock on the door froze my hungry hand.

The jeep was waiting on my bewildered lawn

Waiting, waiting in its usual silence.