A poem I taught when I was living in England, called Not My Business by Niyi Osundare.
It captures a lot of what I’ve been thinking about recently in terms of human rights, and whose responsibility it is to stand up when injustice occurs.
—
Not My Business by Niyi Osundare
They picked Akanni up one morning
Beat him soft like clay
And stuffed him down the belly
Of a waiting jeep.
What business of mine is it
So long they don’t take the yam
From my savouring mouth?