please read the instructions by Adele Nwankwo (Nigeria, 24)

​you probably see me as some wind-up toy or trinket: all friable made-in-nigeria-y quality (some parts may be missing): my illness as invisible as the finger tap taken to like an ableist tiktok video comment a crying-laughing emoji on

​said video: would you believe me if my arms’d been blown off in some oil-hoarding mission in the Middle East or my lungs eviscerated during a regime change just ‘cause someone wanted to resist the Amerikkkan financial hegemony? would you

​believe me if all the stars pleated themselves into a quilt of asterisks right before your very eyes***? or the phone in your hand sent you a gymtok alert saying self-diagnosed mild depression after a breakup was a (dis)ability, too? would you

​finally get that humanity is every tally it forgets to count: every miracle it doesn’t beat into eugenic taxonomic specification? humanity, the orange, the lepper, the saddened. if it found the courage to call out one can only hope you’d

​​finally listen. ***the Manufacturer cannot be held liable for the contents of this person.

​Adele Nwankwo (they/them), 24, is a genderfluid member of the Nigerian diaspora. They are a healthcare worker by trade, but have recently taken up writing as a means of exploring the connections between identity, trauma, and humour. Their poetry is inspired and encouraged by figures like Gwendolyn Brooks, Douglas Kearney, Ocean Vuong, and Ed Roberson. They have work upcoming in several magazines.