Tragedy is the new normal.
Upon our Igala nation
Upon the furrow of our eyes
Why is the charioteer of Ichekpa Ogene
Still welding its lethal blade of sorrow
Plucking off the stars from the Igala sky.
Where shall I rent tears to mourn you, James Ocholi (SAN)?
Have I not shed enough, mourning Prince Abubakar?
Oh grim reaper, or shall I do my crying in the rain?
The vial of Igala tears runs over
To appease Ibegwu, Orachi, Egubi-
Gods of bleeding land and broken dreams.
“Edogbo w’anya, onwu ane, ny’ogwu; igala gb’ow’ ofo, oraka puluuu”
See the saline icicle of misery
For a rude sunset dropped its doleful curtain on hope
The hope of a nation
Here we are, whistling in the dark; idagbo k’uji d’oma nwu.
What libation do we owe you Olagenyi Onigbologwu?
Today,
I heard the footsteps of many suns of several galaxies
Marching to welcome home, a supernova
This titanic departure, has bruised, broken us.
Inkwells, libraries, invented lore
Shall compete to tell the tales
Ocholi ogako; ibu ch’ogwu uja no.
Stand: achekwu we a n’ego n; in the pantheons of immortal men,
Until tragedy becomes abnormal again.
Ch’iko k’eju de!
By Michael Achile Umameh
