'Gone The Way Of Mortals' Papa Poem by Arinzechukwu Bright Okafor

September fourth—
A date history keeps.

In 1781,
Los Angeles was founded
By Spanish settlers
Led by Felipe de Neve.

In 1886,
Geronimo and his Apache band
Surrendered to Nelson Miles
At Skeleton Canyon.

In 1917,
A German plane struck
A British-run base hospital
In France.

The American Expeditionary Forces
Suffered their first losses
Of the Great War.

And on September fourth,
A Friday in 2009,
We lost the man
Whose presence shaped our lives.

Papa.

Born at Idalikpa Farmstead,
Son of the royal
And priestly house of Mbunyie,

He grew into a scholar
Known across the old
Onitsha Province.

A Senior Prefect
In his college days,

He showed that the leopard's precision
Grows with age.

In the eighties,
In a BBC global essay contest,
He came second.

Then came teaching.

Papa was a teacher—
One of the best.

When transferred
From Nando to Anam,
His hometown,

Peaceful protests rose
To bring him back.

They called him
Teacher Solo.

His pupils remember.
Ubarunisioye Nando remembers.

Then came the Railway.

In the traffic section
Of the Nigerian Railway,
Where intelligence
Was the first qualification,

He proved his worth
And earned the respect
Of those above
And those below.

Then came the Civil War—
A difficult chapter
In our nation's history.

Papa stood with his people
In those troubled years
And took part in opening
The corridor between
Biafra One and Biafra Two,

Keeping commerce moving
Through the war.

When the war was over,
He returned to the Railway.

And later—

Back to teaching.

Again,
Papa stood before his pupils,
Sharing knowledge,
Shaping lives.

At home,
He was a father—
Protective,
Firm in discipline,

A believer in self-reliance.

His counsel:

"Be a hero in the strife."

He lived the words.

Through troubled waters,
His resilience
And the Grace of Him above
Carried us through.

We came through
With smiles.

Among all who lived,
He is the one I respect most.

Apart from God,
I owe him everything.

But Papa has gone.

He has gone
The way of men.

He has gone
The way of mortals.

So as we mourn,
As we celebrate,
As we inter him,

Let us remember
The man he was:

A father and grandfather,
An uncle, cousin and nephew,
A friend and co-tenant,
A co-worker and mentor,
A pensioner and wise man,
A soldier and teacher—
A scholar of repute,
Son of a Priest,
And Priest in his own right.

Let us preserve
His wisdom.

Let us live
His philosophy.

Let us carry
His legacy.

For though he left
This earth plane
On Friday, September fourth,

His footsteps remain.

His words remain.

Papa has gone
The way of men.

But his legacy remains.