Exile
“I Escaped Nigeria After EndSARS, but the Country Still Stresses Me”
Zikoko April 11, 2025.
After bullets silenced peaceful protesters at Lekki
Tollgate, a boy bundled his clothes into luggage.
At the airport, he flicked his hand—
1. to his country,
2. to his father,
3. to his brother, perhaps for the last time.
See how a country cuts through a home.
Migration speaks in broken dialects of a kindred.
When we trace the wound’s beginning, we need not
1. blame the leaving,
2. for there is always a knot
3. tied inside the choice.
And on the evening news, a paid mouth insists
no blood spilled at Lekki.
I imagine the young man
p r o t e s t i n g seconds before—
1. cut down by the bullet,
2. while raising the flag,
3. while singing the anthem.
And when we leave, we will not look back at home.
When they ask why we fled, we will show them the wreckage.
Migration was the only choice, even when it meant
1. beginning anew,
2. pleading for breath,
3. swallowing our freedom to survive.
Ferdinand Emmanuel Somtochukwu, Swan XXI, is a young emerging Nigerian poet and essayist. He has works published or forthcoming in Arts Longue, Kalahari Review, AprilCentaur, Poetry Column, Poetry Sango-Ota, Isele, and elsewhere. Connect with him on X @EmmanuelSomto17.