SPEAKING POETRY WITH PLUMBLINE PART1: Dear Dad

 

I came out of my Writers’ Block to write this for you,

You left us long ago, I wasn’t even Two!

I never even knew,

but I grew into your legend,

the Oral Traditions

and the writings you penned before your transition

invade my thoughts without permission

and gnaw at my heart with so much attrition!

 

Wish I could see Lymphoma,

and pound him to a coma,

dispatched as a loner

to the infernal depths that mocks the prison they called Sona,

for stealing you from us!

 

It’s eating me,

so I write, it’s grilling me,

and so I fight.

I am almost as old as you (were)

yet it’s so hard to fit into your Shoes!

Can’t see the shoes but they loom,

seems you ‘done-did’ everything I ever hope to be!

 

I tried to be an engineer;

you were a Principal Engineer way back in the ‘70’s!

I was told you pioneered a good part of the electricity project in some parts of Lagos,

at the time no mortal trod those so-called sacred groves

I tried, but I got slapped with Agricultural Engineering

because I missed the cut-off!

Did you have cut-off in Ahmadu Bello University in your days?

Maybe it was Obafemi Awolowo University’s idea of making me never meet up!

 

I re-applied for Geology,

even did a Masters in Applied Geophysics….

that reminds me, your dad once gave me his textbook of Physics,

it looked like a tiny novel! It’s like I’m comparing rice to noodles

 

Your friend gave you a befitting oral epitaph: ‘He never cheated anyone and never allowed anybody cheat him’

see me; here I am, I try, but I’m strapped in the midst people determined to ruin all we have; as a nation…

Dad, if you were still alive, I don’t know if you would have still stayed with NEPA(now called PHCN)..

Power supply is worse than the time you passed!

 

They said you refunded all unspent hotel allowance in your lifetime,

so much that in spite of the fact that you had passed,

after your gratuity was paid,

they continued your pay for a while….

I try, but it’s hard!

 

I laughed when I heard about the false prophet that ‘saw blood’ on your car,

I can imagine the clank as you shut him in till you made him ‘Unsee’ what he saw .

False prophets still abound; they are now clad in Designer Suits and Ties…

I wish I could give one of them the B.O. Jaiyeola treatment!

 

I am trying to do music,

but you did your first mixtape way back!

I heard it, how you mixed backups without a laptop

am I kidding???No PCs, so, no plug-ins and add-ons!

You were the assistant choir-master (I heard your Father-in-Law was the Choir Master and Momma was in the Choir too *winks*)

I left the choir long before I was 22! Dad, I rap, I do Spoken Word Poetry but I can imagine that you laugh as I speak because I can’t even transcribe!

 

Did the church really kick you out for keeping your side-burns?

Are things better long after you passed on?

Your brothers in the SU movement back then still show relics of the love that we had once

the things my eyes saw and I still see in my time stop short of what you’d call an eye sore!

 

Dad, I can’t fit in your shoes;

I got mine too,

but every word you wrote,

and the way your friends spoke and still speak about you,

makes me stand in awe, pride, reverence and gratitude to God, for giving me that Daddy, that I never really knew!

“I see him, but not now: looking on him, but not near….” (Numbers 24:17

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