If we tell gently gently
The incapacitate of cold and weather
That made all human taciturn
Scolded and detrimental

Oh! Harmattan in its early age
Recondite to man
Thus bringing about
An erroneous congenial environment.

Lying there on the couch
Brainstorming on how to alleviate
That recondite weather that
Denied me of my breakfast
When I could not be available
For my morning chores.

Having dressed up like a masquerade
Sluggishly finding my way to the kitchen
And discovering a millions
Of dirty dishes to wash

I tried to ignore
Just then
I took a glance of that
Hot served guinea corn porridge
Placed down on the cabinet
Like an helpless creature.

Trying to be friendly,
I laid my icy hand on the spoon
About to...and oh!
Behind comes my mother

But do I really have to work
Before I eat
This harmattan taught me.