Imeobi, the melting pot of commonwealth, encouraging individuality, promoting consensus, became
Hotbed of spontaneity.
1949 Nov 18, Iva Valley episode, its “grand” impremature, with a Grand Commander of antiquity.
Elders trading their best clothings for sackcloth, can’t pour libations.
Leaders wearing garlands of dishonor and looking the other way.
Friends feigning ignorance and armed with the sword of Brutus,
Umpires beating their chests, acting Herod.
Bystanders with arms across the chests,
Neighbors in awe, how the Mighty is falling.
The people watching akimbo, urging
The tail wag the head of a headless coalition.
The Choirmaster, without the tuning fork,
The choir, the band; yet in sync with the new.
The acoustics of the Hall, defies the intonation.
There’s a rush of interludes, and interlopers.
Actors, playing old script;
Acting out of scope;
Chief celebrant in quest of branding; lost his voice,
Con-celebrants, lacking courage and seeking for identity; downgraded the Song Mass to just Mass.
Congregation, watching in amazement;
Children, dancing in circles in the rain, run away from Sunday Schools and Catechism Classes,
Nothing was whole, everything was atomized.
And left The ecclesia, struggling for synthesis.
The forebears are in pains and gnashing,
Where’s Nduka Eye, standard Bearer of all times,
Invoke our saints triumphant in the kindred Community,
Recall Abilikiti MN Ugochukwu, Ezeogo Akanu Ibiam, M,I Power, Iheonukara Okpara, Ezejeogu S O Mgbada,
Pius Okigbo, Jerome Ugorji. Conjure their spirits and convey their messages.
Brave Matriarchs, your 1929 Spirit, reignite.
Heroes and Heroines,
Deflate the Balloon, Reboot and Rebound the ball,
Ipi Tombi, your 1929 Spirit, reignite.
Oha n’Eze, unite.
Shadows are always there, harmless and routine.
We’re in trying times.
Go for one with depth, content, contacts and leverage.
Submit not to blackmail.
Go for fertile ground not toxic residue.
History beckons.
The Time Is Now.
This is your chance.
Let the House not Fall.
