I thought I was a gentleman,
Until the day it rained in Lagos.
That day the sky opened up,
And God wept down, copiously.
We were all lost in our thoughts
As we huddled together, waiting
For buses that drove past without looking at us
With their load of shivering humanity.
I was thinking of Mr. Henry,
And how he shouted at us that day
As he does, indeed, most days,
with that all-knowing,supercilious look on his face
Then I saw a bus slowing down,
As it approached our makeshift shelter.
We all rushed forward,
With me right there, in front.
That was when I pushed her out of the way.
The woman with a child, about to take the place
Of the lone passenger who struggled out of the bus.
For, you see, I had to be on my way home.