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Nigerian In America - a short story by A.B.King

   Once upon a time there lived a young Nigerian named Chukwudi. He had just won the lottery for a free visa to go and live in America for the rest of one’s life.   Chukwudi was feeling very happy and blessed. His family rejoiced with him. They were glad that one of them was going to the beautiful country of America. They were glad that one of them would have a better life than they have – they were glad that Chukwudi was going to have a life in the land of opportunity.   Of course as it is in these kind of situations there was a lot of advise of all sorts given to Chukwudi.   Some friends told him that he should hide his ID and prevent people from knowing he’s a Nigerian unless it’s absolutely necessary, until he’s stayed there long enough to become an American citizen; because Nigerian’s have developed such a bad reputation in America not only because of the high rate of corruption within Nigeria but mainly because of fraudulent dealings by Nigerians with Americans on the web and in person.   Chukwudi had a lot of other advice on a vast range of topics but that was the one that stood out. That was the one that bordered him most. That was the one that bothered him in his sleep.Chukwudi prayed about it much before the set date that he was to leave for America. Would he leave a life of pretending not to be an Nigerian unless it’s necessary for him to use his ID or would he boldly tell people he is a Nigerian if asked and risk people classifying him as corrupt just as the many other Nigerians they had dealt with had proved themselves to be.   Finally, the day for Chukwudi to leave for America came. His family and friends said goodbye to him at the airport. Lots of tears where shed. They knew that they might never see Chukwudi again. As is the case with many Nigerians, when they travel abroad they never come back even to visit. The best you can hope for is that they don’t throw away your phone number and you both communicate by e-mail every once in a while.   After Chukwudi got on the plane, the bird had flown and the bird (plane) had landed in an American airport; Chukwudi worried now more than ever. Of course he had to show them his ID at the airport for them to let him through. Besides those who cared to notice saw him walking out of a plane that was coming from Nigeria. So that was not what he worried about. He was worried about what kind of life he would live once he steps out of that airport. Would he be a Nigerian in America or a Fake American in America?   That day, as Chukwudi packed into his new apartment, a neighbor hanging with a couple of folks asked him, “So were are you moving in from?”   Chukwudi was tempted to say that he moved in from another part of America. That seemed to be the smart thing to say. But as Chukwudi thought about who he was and thought about the Christian principles that he has always lived by that had always pushed him forward in life he decided to simply tell the truth. “I’m a Nigerian. I just moved in from Nigeria”, Chukwudi answered. The man and everyone else around him looked at Chukwudi with a shocked face.Chukwudi taught, Oh! my God I’ve done it now. He wished he could take back his words.   Then all of a sudden the man’s face changed into a smile and he said, “Nice. We like diversity here. It’s truly an honor to meet you.”
The End.

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Our Boys In Blue - a poem by Alfred

Through Cold or Heat, Through Strength or Pain/
They Carry our Troubles, All Night, All Day/
They Risk their Future, To Keep us Safe/
Have you said a Prayer, For a Cop today?/
Without Police, No one would be Safe/
Bodies would paint the Street like Syria Today/
After the West played Chess and won the Game/
Have you said a Prayer, For a Cop today?/
Without Police in America, today/
Your Head and Your Body could be in different States/
One Part in Alabama, The Other part Up-State/
Have you said a Prayer, For a Cop today?/
We owe our Lives to Our Boys In Blue/
They carry the weight of the Red, White, and Blue/
And make it a Nation all Nations come to/
Have you said Thanks, To a Cop today?/

Why You Should Share This Post:  Because unlike some people, we Love & Respect those who risk their lives for us everyday.

* 🙋 What Would You Like Me To Write A Poem About Next? Please Leave A Comment.

Rather Than Hate The Rich, Become Rich - a poem by Alfred

Crucify the Rich, Burn them at the Stake/
Punish them for succeeding, where the rest of us has failed/
Their Remote controls the State like the TV channels they made/
Only 1 per cent are safe, 99 per cent are slaves/
Occupy the 1 per cent, Hello to Project Eliminate/
We don't need rich people in the world, walk 'em to their grave/
Like Marie Antoinette, and then We Would Eat Cake/
All Rich People are Evil, Greedy, and Really Vain/
Away with Rich people, Let us dig their graves/
They plan to dig ours, I can see it in their ways/
Who needs the Rich to build Banks, Skyscrapers, and Planes/
Who needs the Rich to build Rockets to take us to Outer Space/
Wealth can't create more jobs than poverty makes/
Poverty is what this country needs, take wealth away/
Destroy the Rich to make the world a better place/
I hate Rich people, even though I work all day/
I'm sure it's no so I could be Rich some day/
And if I get Rich I would give it all away/
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Madiba Says - a poem by Alfred

Success awaits every man at the top of the hill/
But after she shakes your hands, you see another hill/
New hills grow taller if you pause to sleep/
Success has feet, she can just get up and leave/
A Real Leader must love this people more than he loves himself/
And be willing to make the ultimate sacrifice for them/
He must be dead to self, and live for them/
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Freedom doesn't mean having no chains on your wrists/
It struts forward to mean liberating others wrists/
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Education is the most powerful W.M.D/
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The Quotes By Nelson Mandela That Inspired This Poem:
1)  After climbing a great hill, one only finds that there are many more hills to climb.
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