By Oluwaseun Akingboye
This is a blow too many to bear,
Though all in the wake strive to put it at bay,
Even like a gallant soldier he fought on to cheat it,
As the deep rallied round the deep to make him stay;
Yet he chose to rest,
Which is sweet after all labours of life,
Though it tears our marrows apart!
Not like Anthony will I to the Roman Forum come,
With my pen dancing on the gloomy pages of the tabloid,
Telling of the good unforgotten deeds of Sola Ilesanmi,
Who bestrides journalism like Colossus,
Though three years older than the Master,
And leaves footprints so clear and crystal,
And shoes too big to find of his kind.
Still don’t believe this is for your funeral,
Till the phones rang and social media cringed,
With news of your sudden departure, unawares!
We with hearts so heavy and cloudy,
Our consolation is in the tributes and testimonies of men,
That confirms how you came crying, while we laughed;
But departed smiling for fighting the good fight,
Leaving us reeking sour in tears!
Who will call me Maloks again to cheer up a brother;
Quality investment to see the young grow,
True to core deference to those mentors that have gone before,
And pure brotherhood to peers that you seek our welfare?
I won’t cry though tears well up my eye sockets,
Nothing kills The Man that shreds himself in others,
It is an investment that transcends time and space!
Oh death you are rude and stupid,
Doomed art thou for thy poor judgement to kill,
For taking away from us such a Rare Gem.
Though the flesh and body you can only take,
His spirit, soul and kindness live with us forever;
We won’t forget the referrals, the humour and care not to hurt a fly.
Our first interview at ODSACA/Kid &Teens event, asking the interviewee:
“What is the noise all about?”
Short in stature but a giant in composure,
Slighted in speech but audible in sense,
Calculative in moves, and brisk to the core.
Care-free on looks, but dandy in fashion with others;
Massive in eyeballs, but minute to find a fault.
Beleaguered with scanty resources, but determined to move mountains,
Though short time with us, forever you linger!
These deluges of epitaph on your grave,
Will give speed for smooth journey home, Sola:
And make for you a reservation at Abraham’s Bosom,
Where rest is always sweet after labour,
And to die is gain!
Forever you will live on the lips of men,
This is the path you chose while with us,
And how to die good, and cheat death!
Maloks…….now with tears,
Betray the courage not to cry,
As you lay on the pyre for dust-to-dust rite today,
I bid you farewell, My Friend!
As no battery in the world,
Even with the wildest Putin effect,
Can make the midget blink again, but in our heart!
