… where sa-tyres never go flat

Prize for Satire



By: Ukange Doose Diana

All line up for the ticket,

Coloured to the left,

Pure white to the right.

Identification in hand.

“Thou in black;  the dark black

On the left, step back.

No ticket for thee.”

“But sir, here is my identity,

I am an African.”

“No,  thou art a Negro,

A deep shade of darkness.

Thy melanin will smear my white covering.

Now, off you go.”


“Oh!  Son of my motherland,

Proceed, for here is thy ticket.

Thy fairness is alluring.”

“But sir, be fair then to me also.”

“Black lad,

Maybe in the morrows I will wear

My black shirt, then

I’ll be fair-minded,

Now, off you go!”

I am a Nigerian, an emerging poet. A student of English and literary studies. I hail from the middle belt regions in Nigeria, Benue. An Afrocentric writer with several African writings although none has been published.

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The only thing you need to know about me is I speak the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth ―― well, except when writing.

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