(A Classroom Tragedy in Three Chuckles)

“Class!” the teacher barked,
chalk dancing like white ants.
“Who can tell me
what is Nigeria?”

Silence.
Silence.
More silence.

Then courage crept in.

One boy rose
his uniform torn
like national unity,
chest puffed
like he swallowed a drum,
and with the voice
of his hero, Professor Wole Soyinka,
he began:

“Nigeria is a sandwich
wearing rubber slippers,
climbing Mount Kilimanjaro
to buy akara
with expired SIM card!

It is a parrot
reciting the constitution
backwards
in Swahili
on a Monday
during Sallah break
with broomsticks in both ears!”

The teacher blinked.
The ceiling fan paused.
Even the chalk froze.

But the boy was not done.

“Nigeria is when yam
sits for WAEC
and fails CRK!
It is a goat
that buys Benz
but treks home
because of network!

It is cassava…
garri…
ewa…
and agbado…
served on ballot papers.
It is a traffic jam
in a frying pan
caused by rice!”

The teacher gasped:
“Wait—wait!
What is all this?!
What are you saying?!
I don’t understand a word!”

The boy smiled, bowed, and said:

“Congratulations, sir.
You passed the psychiatric test.
If you understood me,
I would have called the ambulance.”