Mr Augustine Nwogwugwu, the father of all, childrens playmate, the singer of a thöusand lullabies and melodious tales that made my infant and garden life rejoice. My heart was broken when I heard the news. I felt it in the thickly sooth-blackened fumy air; it was so poignant. I didnt know you were in coma then, for two weeks in coma, battling in the middle passage to be spared. Until death dealt the fatal blow on you and you slumpped never to rise again. Where are you, De Augo? The angel of my infant life which hole hath thou sinketh? I pity your wife, poor ailing woman watching her husbands life slip away like a handful of sahara dust or dry sandy soil at the coast of gulf of Mexico. She had died a thousand deaths, even crueler than the one youd had to die! Chokoneze has lost a hero. The iroko has fallen with a deafening thud. The birds have flown away scattered, perching in the younger Mahagony and climbing ropes and mourning the iroko that lay lifeless on the ground,refusing to sing. Our lips are sealed, a nameless grief afflict Umueze village. Ndonu umunnem. Ndi ogo, ndo. Ndi umunna, jidenu obi unu aka. Ndi okpu na ndi ndom, ebezina. Wipe your tears. To whom does life serve a pepperless meal? Who owns the world? Who has no care in the world? Let him fill a basket with water. Let him querry his chi or his ancestors. Such is life and the fate of man. If things go well, thank God. If it doesnt, endure with ease. De Augo, If you see my grand pa and ma, tell them their boy still has that aching wound, the cruel wound their death caused me. Tell my sister Chimchetam and my brother(dead before my birth) that I miss them. Tell De Bon that I didnt know that that was the last time I would see him again. Tell mma Dara that her grave pierces my heart at each sight. Sleep well, De Augo.
Posted on: Sat, 22 Mar 2014 08:56:26 +0000