Black

by Abraham Kedong

The sense of how I look

and the colour of my skin

wasn’t a thing, 

even when I boarded the flight

to Washington DC from Lagos.

In the plane were chains of Black, Brown

Yellow and White

sprinkled here and there, just enough

to keep the eye blind.

                                                                                                Welcome aboard.

The hostess was polite.

She smiled at me

                                                                                                Please fasten your seat belt.

A voice streamed through an invisible speaker

as we are airborne

enduring the bumpiness at intervals.

                                                                                                Your Life Jacket is under your seat.

Some hush-hush whispers lured me to sleep.

                                                                                                We will be landing shortly,

                                                                                                Please stow your tray table.

A tap on the shoulder woke me up

                                                                                                Preparing for landing.

At touchdown

Washington stretched forth her arms.

I peeped through the window

And, I was Black.