The man stood there disgracing all Nigerians.

Face tight , uniform dark blue and tired blue that was screaming for no more washes - his eyes would meet with the ordinary men sitting under the canopy and he would move it quickly and throw it to the road.

With every move his muscles made to open the door ajar , sighs and curses slapped his face as he closed after the madam or the sir that passed.

“This is what is killing us in Nigeria”

I’m guessing he’s into graphic design - he was wearing a dark faded Supreme cap that must have been inferior- earnestly typing and engaging on his phone - raising his head once once to observe his environment.

“I only came because I cannot make transfer , I no de see my alert - person buy brazier - I no see her transfer , na em I come o, which kind problem be this ?”

I’m guessing she has a store in the market , she specializes in women intimates I guess, she’s restless - she gets up - she walks around , she twists her mouth until it makes “Tchewww” she looks around and sits down quietly again - throwing daggers at the man disappointing Nigeria.

The door open again , ordinary men look up. They look down and they sigh- the bitter feeling boils up in their stomach , they swallow it - they cannot say it is not their country.

“Ehen look am o , look am ! E de open door for this woman wey just come”

The woman had been quiet , I guess she is a sister - she covered her hair and her turtle neck was long and tucked underneath her dress - she was holding herself , she was keeping up her image , she couldn’t complain- she was reciting prayers under her breadth.

“Because we no show you love na ! Because we no get to show you love” more people sat down , more people complained.

“My dear please o- which one is card number ?” The woman had been touching me , talking to me , tugging my cardigan.

“My sister, how will I fill this form ?”

I looked at her , I think she sells food - that faint stew smell was in the air - her eyeshadow was galaxy.

“See ehn , e don pass 1 o’clock”

legs were bouncing , arms were crossing , faces were tightening, eyes were glaring , mouths were twisting , air was tensing.

The man disgracing Nigeria was showing his 32 - wait not up to 32. Avoiding glances at all cost , stuffing the ransom into his pockets and shaking hands with the haves.

He forgot he was all of us , he was the graphic designer, he was the market woman , he was the sister but for once he wanted to be oga.

The havenots were angry , their words were bubbling inside their throat but none dared to speak.

“which kain tin” “which kain tin”

Nobody explained to them the kind of thing that was doing them , why ? They were not asking.

i looked around , picked up my bag and left.