PIUS ADESANMI: EVEN IF THE ROAD TO THE CEMETERY IS CLOSED…

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Even if the road to the cemetery is closed,
We would buried our hero in the earth of Words.
Uncle Pius Adesanmi,
Thoughts are deep but the words are few,
Humanity is paled by your gallant death,
You are a deep fountain of intellect and illumination,
Whose streams run through the crevices of the earth,
Of which we have all worshiped and drank.



For the first time in many moons,
Humanity is stunned by the demise of a towering figure,
The shadow of which influences our literary world,
Vanguard of our fragile democracy,
Shepherd of our national sanity,
The mid-wife of our emancipation:
Your words beautifully and humorously crafted,
Nurtured the fading silhouette of our dreams,
And we long to dance to the beats of your creativity.
But suddenly the beats stopped…
The water spilled and the gourd split!
And what manner of life is this?

Even if the road to the cemetery is closed,
We would buried our hero in the earth of Words.

Uncle Pius Adesanmi,
We are lost in the sweet nectar of your wisdom,
Drunk in the euphoria of the life you radiate,
But the ‘go-away’ bird has perched on the roof of our house,
And we have to bid you farewell as you journey beyond,

Uncle Pius,
We love you because you gave to us.
You mirrored professionalism, statesmanship and fatherhood,
But we choose to let go knowing we will meet again someday,
As Facebook mourns, twitter sobs and the international community grieves,
We take solace and cling affectionately to the words you said,
Few hours before you boarded that ill-fated Ethiopian Airline:
“… If I take the wings of the morning,
And dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea,
Even there your hand shall lead me,
And your right hang shall hold me…. Psalm 139:9-10”

Adieu Uncle Adesanmi,
We love you dearly.

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