I am sadden! Sadden as my comrade takes to the underworld. Samuel Ngegba where are you? You left without putting the wig and quoting the Law. How foolishly you devoured your books amist the pains, struggles, vigilance and hunger in pursuit of education. A hero has left his task unacccomplished. You were too strong to sleep without food and to survive the rigours of mosquitoes. But why now, bro? You told me that you will endure. You told me that you shall become a criminal lawyer. You told me that the bents are not the end. You taught me how to combat and walk straight with victory. Your tender voice still echoes on the early premonition. It was all but yesterday; with life full of endurance and hope. Comrade where are you? Dead! I cannot imagine this happening to my roommate. Wake up now! You cannot siphon my courage and taint it with mystique. Death, are you really that wicked? Now, comrades of the struggle who had lived to hear the obituary of Ngegba, forget not to punctuate the lines of death. Death must be the juggernaut of life and the incidiary bomb of hope, a sabre facade in disillusionment, and a whooping voice of humanity. The Almighty has a scourge of death that keeps us on our toes. Ngegba where are you? You have lingered with the spirit, but the soul survived the scourge. Brother, I cannot forget the soup you prepapred me last. I love you, bro.
Posted on: Thu, 04 Sep 2014 20:08:43 +0000
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