A poem written by me for Nairaland.

1. Note that there was no form of internal arrangements between me and a moderator, which makes it unofficial.

2. Repost or Republican is allowed as long as you link to the original page (this page).

3. Do not temper with the context or content of of this poem. The title should not be used as it is.

4. You should not consider the "me" above as the author unless replaced by "P.A.O." - my initials.


Intro: This is a typical Nigerian poem.
Setting: A typical Nigerian home.

The Naira On Green

After every bite of the morning akara;
I feel somethin' still missing.
A spoon full of the tasty akamu;
I feel somethin' still missing.
It now seem a wide hole -
which makes me feel Iam not whole.
A hole I try to seal -
with the sweet smell of the morning meal.
But I still feel somethin's missing.


I hear the gate open as footsteps approach the door;
"Moi Moi!". I hear madam Ene's voice at the door;
O Boy!, that moi moi, you've got to taste it Joor.


Mom leaves for the door, not long, appears at the table with delicious raps of Moi Moi.
At the table, no one speaks -
as we take turns to pick.
Dad sits at the other end -
He tries not to be interested
Ha! That look on his face...even a kid can tell the lie as he patiently wait for mum to serve he's share.


Breakfast. Done. Dad switch on the TV.
Ba! That TV program he seem to love so much can make a dog hiss and murmur it's way out.
It dredges the boredom hole in me as I feel somethin' still missing.


Nairaland! - I remember -
and boredom, again, I can't remember!.

Nairaland o Nairaland
A blessing to the internet;
What else can it be, the land we catch the moments
Not even to mention, the memes and crazy 'landers comments.

They said no single thing can be an island;
Check the web, there is a Nairaland.

The End