To Achebe, an eulogy.

Dear Chinua Achebe, by now you must know that you are dead, but it’s your 87th birthday, we celebrate it for you live on, in many dimensions that are life-giving. Sir, I wish you were still alive, but a wish, a mere one it is.

I wish so, for you struck me as the most sensible of all the great authors I’ve read from, I wish so for I’m no longer at ease, wish I could see you and seek wisdom on how to deal with things falling apart, I believe in HIM, but dear Albert, it’s like the arrow of God is against me, fret not, I wrote this in whispers, I mean no evil.

You are a man of the people, seemingly the last true one we had the chance to have. Your words I ruminate on for sense and a glint of hope, light’s essence. I’ve not really in maturity read your works but I recall important stuff. 

A girl asked recently Sir, that what should she do when it seems like everything around her is asking that she quits? Well, I simply answered that I recall Chinua in one of his books writes that; “the Igbos have a saying, a man can not refuse to be asked a question, but has all rights to decide whether to answer or not” I roughly quote. 

Dear Achebe, I seldom mistake your pieces as excerpts from the bible. Live on an old friend. They’ll feel I’m mad but I feel strongly that you read already. I’m glad you smiled Sir.
(c)Cirphrank IWrite PoeticAli

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