Architecture of void: On mimetic policy, deindustrialized state

By Majekodunmi O. Ebhohon

Introductory Note:

On January 14, 2026, I had the honour of engaging with a Professor, and it’s Academic Staff Union of Universities (ASUU), veteran, which lasted exactly 1 hour and 27 minutes. The session was so electrifying that, immediately following the call, I offloaded, on my notepad, the positions into an outline and subsequently produced a poetic replication of the outline, for my generation.

I am sharing both the thematic outline and the resulting poem below. I hope that the academic community finds this poetic “simplification” of these critical issues worthy of a seat within our citadels of learning.

Thematic outline

I. Macroeconomic Interdependence and Imperial Hegemony- The psychological and fiscal tethering of the Naira to the USD.

The “Greenback” is a symbol of colonial remnants in modern finance.
The systemic risk of Dollarization in a volatile global market.

II. Structural deindustrialization and the productive void

The atrophy of physical manufacturing (“grinding metal, steam, conveyor belts”).
The transition from a production-based economy to a consumption-based economy.
The outsourcing of labour and the loss of national technical agency.

III. The paradox of mimetic policy

The adoption of Western fiscal models (Tax and Spend) without the corresponding industrial base.

The “Neighbour’s House on Fire” syndrome: replicating the failures of a declining superpower.

The disconnect between state “visions” and material reality.

IV. Institutional and media-driven obfuscation

The role of leadership in rebranding economic contraction as growth.

The “Orchestra” metaphor: bureaucratic performance in an empty institutional structure.

The “Conductor’s” exit: the desertion of responsibility by the ruling class.

V. Geopolitical fallout and peripheral impact

The “Cushion” theory: the Global South absorbing the impact of a Global North collapse.

The end of the Unipolar era (“The world that has left the building”).

The debasement of currency is a precursor to social and structural disintegration.

The green agreement

I am looking at a greenback on my desk,
  a small slip of oxide ink
that carries the weight of an empire
  I have never actually visited.

It is a curious thing, the way we stare
  at the portrait of a foreign president
as if his wig held the secret to our next meal,
  while outside, the actual sun is doing its best
to remind us that the soil is still there.

There is a particular kind of optimism
  in watching a neighbour’s house on fire
and deciding that the best course of action
  is to model your own living room after his.

We are currently polishing the brass
  on a ship that is tilting quite noticeably,
convinced that because the hull is painted
  in the colours of a superpower,
the water rushing in must be a luxury.

I think of the grinding metal, steam, loud noises,
  heat and conveyor belts we do not have,
the way we have outsourced our very hands
  to a place across the ocean that no longer
remembers how to use its own.

We are holding a bale that is essentially
  a polite agreement to be disappointed later.

It is like standing in a long, orderly queue
  to buy a ticket for a train that has already
been sold for its weight in scrap metal.

The new tax bill arrives on the porch
  with the cheerful persistence of a stray cat,
ready to eat the crumbs of a loaf
  that was never actually placed in the oven.

It is a masterclass in the art of the vacuum—
  a system designed to collect the air
from a room that is already a vacuum.
  We are taxing the shadows of things
we used to produce when the lights were on.

I watch the television where a man
  in a very expensive suit explains
that the plummeting of the green paper
  is merely a new way of soaring.

He doesn’t mention that our own paper
  is tied to it with a short, heavy rope,
or that when the giant finally hits the floor,
  we will be the ones to provide the cushion.

It is a strange time to be an observer,
  noticing that the instrument we are playing
is missing most of its strings,
  yet we continue to sit in the orchestra
waiting for a conductor who is currently
  backstage, frantically packing his bags.

We are waiting for a version of the world
  that has already left the building,
leaving us with a pocketful of useless ink
  and a very high price for the privilege
of watching the curtains finally close.

Ebhohon is a Nigerian poet and playwright. He is the author of ‘The Great Delusion’, winner of the ANA Prize for Drama, 2025. He writes from Benin City, Edo State, Nigeria.
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