500 Naira

 If you only knew what Five Hundred meant to me

you would weep at the thin, lost girl who arrived at your door

every Saturday noon

in Bulukuntu, to cook and clean and watch you play yor scrabble with your frinds

If only yu could see what five hundred would buy in the future

in the end of your life, broken and old without hope

and the little lost girl who remembered your kindness

when no one else was kind

you who gave me succour when no one else did

who endured me when no else would

I saw in your eyes you were tired sometimes

but you gave and gave and I an never forget.

Uncle I wont forget the 500 naira you gave

every Saturday in Bulukuntu

The years have plied up, 

like dust in the dusty Maiduguri street

memories come and go, and people die

pain is always there, numbed by sleep 

abut don't forget that flicker and kindness you showed to the girl who would bever forget

the  five hundred naira note

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