Now, Rest Big Brother, Raymond Dokpesi (1951 – 2023)

Shock and painful echoes,

Unbelief, disbelief, 

Rejection, and no way, 

Greater than they say the Iroko has fallen, 

Now forest is bare, scorching. 

The great Oghieumua, the immutable Ezomo of Weppa Wanno,  the unparalleled Araba of Osoroland, Okpe, and so and so… 

Pioneer, trailblazer, 

Founder of founders Absolutely creative,

Intrepid and resourceful, 

Resilient, unquenchable, 

Brave, lion hearted, unafraid,

Confident, daring.

Chai, whither DAAR, AIT?

Whither the Catholic Church, CIWA, and the unending missionary support. 

Whither Mummy Moji, Aunty Fumi, Aunty Tosin,  and mothers of the house,

Whither Raymond Jnr, Peter, Regina, Homto, little Anu, and all others, progeny.

Whither Tony, Akiotu, Kelly Elisha, Adebayo Abudorin, Oloyede Oworu, Aruleba, Uju Ejeye, Amaechi Anakwe, Gbenga Aruleba, Imoni Amarere, Nancy Nnaji, Adaora Onyechere, and so on and so on,

And whither Agenegbode, Edo State, South-South, 

Wither Gdanks, Alagbado, Kpaduma Hills,

Whither Naija.

Whither National politics, PDP,

Whither Baba Bamanga Tukur, Oga IBB,  Waziri Adamawa, Chukwuemeka Ezeife, Ben Obi, Peter Odili, Shedrack Akolokwu, and all others.

Whither the colour, charm, and effervescence of Nigerian politics.

Whither the thronging widows, orphans, needful. 

And whither the gaily socials,

the drums, the singing, and twisting moves of King Sunny Ade, et al.

Patriot of special genre; multitaskingly endowed, multiple dimensionally gifted.

Simpliciter: finest of human spirit.

Beyond the horizon, there is hope, 

Beyond the silver curtain, there is rest,

Beyond mortal plains lie the waitful hands of Him Lord and Master;

Freed from clutches: sin, errors, pain, headache, care encore.

Thence adorn garlands, laude and trophies of worthy service.

Now, dear, elixir, High Chief, indefatigable and energetic and elegant, 

Now seized and transmitted to yonderland by eerie ‘death’,

Now to shine incandescent in the hearts of  all generations unborn, 

No wonder 

good old Horatius Bonair reminds  all, Ezomo henceforth, 

“will ever be remembered by the works he had done and the seeds he has sewn.”

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