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Photo by Mwabonje on Pexels.com Waiting long minutes on an ATM queue under the hot sun on any Monday afternoon in Nigeria is not a thing you want to experience. I’m smiling at my phone while standing at the gallery. I stood there waiting for my turn. Looking at all these people standing in front of me, no doubt they were definitely up to twenty-five. This Monday afternoon was however different for me, it’s the end of the year and finally getting a break from work, going to travel back home. I’m fleeing the complex and troublesome life of the city. In no time, I was at the front of the queue, there were four persons before me, an elderly woman dressed in Yoruba iro and buba with her neatly wrapped gele of the same Ankara, a young man probably a student’s telling by his dyed Mohawk haircut and two…

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