I Would Always Remember Poem by Victor Okey Nwatu

I would always remember FESTLAJID, the Prof.
Meticulously methodic when Process Engineering gets tough,
attacks the simulation with a bullish zest,
and emerges with a familiar grin, no beating of chest.
At FDP, was at his pedagogical best
Of which the nearly fastidious Prof. Kuye was impressed.

I remember him as the” lead singer of the midnight crew”
Though he could point and say to me “hey that’s you”
But that doesn’t negate his work rate
Everly activating every night and day - every date.
Went about Forty hours without a blink,
A wonderful record of some sort, I think.

I would always remember MIKE the wise guy.
Who when Dedication calls, is always on a high.
His search for materials, unmatchable at the least
Like an Epicurean preparing a banquet, a feast,
Drives his PC with the dexterity of a master
In fact, systems are his slaves and he the “Massa”

I remember his young face and old heart,
With the two parts perpetually intact, never apart.
He speaks with subtlety, persuasion and conviction
Even when rashness appears to be apt for the occasion.
But he gets his kicks by being on my neck,
And that, to his eyes, could count as a speck.

I would never forget “good old BEE”, the married one.
Who, in multidisciplinary projects, is number one
Has an unarguable gift of making one see her point
And for pulling out strings of argument that are disjoint.
And in HSE is an encyclopedic Amazon,
Both in vastness the female-strength mention

She reminds me of the good old Meg. Thatcher,
And her celebrated chauvinist taming character.
Luminously evident in her love for drilling
This to normal females is un-loved, grueling.
And her knowledge of roots and herbs, unassailable.
A quality both confirmable and undeniable.

I would never forget EZENAKA “THE KWALI”.
A name who roots are nebulous, actually;
A Jose Mourinho of a group leader,
Whose group is loved by any A-grade needer,
But could readily be jailed with dispatch
For the way he legally manhandles all machines with panache.

At 1.92m, it’s understating to say he’s tall,
But could be humble, down-to-earth and all.
Always at his “autofocus “picture taking best
Resulting in always being absent from the rest
When circumstances demand taking of pictures.
Or some other slow driving features.

I would always remember SOSO, the Captain.
Huge and strong like the biblical Samson,
But with surprisingly disarming meekness
Which one, to his peril, could take for weakness.
He also leads by example, quite simple;
Though he enjoys things practical, complicated, not simple.

I remember him for his loving Hart,
Which, with hers, was never ever apart.
And since the “loved one” feels those lines
It wouldn’t take time for us to see the lines.
But his Beemer could sue him to court
For firing it up till its breath cuts short.

I would always remember FERPIE THE SCRIBE;
The noter, the scribbler, and other titles one could ascribe.
His two pairs of ears and eyes always alert
And if alertness is Gold he would be of high carat.
His presentation skills is high-tech to me
What else could one expect from an ex-KPMG.

I remember his ever conspicuous brown bag
Which is always full I‘ve never known to sag.
Always indispensible, mercurial and providential
And in addition to all these, proverbial
Hence the name Proverbial Brown Bag, PBB
Known by these three letters to every soul, not just me.

I would never forget UGOCHI, the one that’s loved
By whom? A mystery I didn’t leave unsolved
Because his “Akonyephilic Hart”- the name
And her Hart-loving, book-loving heart are the same-
An intentionally intricate warp and weft,
Because what it connotes isn’t difficulty bereft.

I remember her perfectly-timed mood swings
Like SHM-induced pendulum bob swings;
One moment a hissing super-heated steam,
The next as cool as ice- every glaciers dream
And her graceful gift of sonority
Employed with an equal measure of vivacity.

I would never forget the one that’s normal,
Good old “SIR SHIGO”-un endingly jovial.
He is an Ife horse, a thoroughbred, a reservoir bed
And I must confess a peculiar egg-head.
Once a mechanical Engineer of known Strength
Designing reciprocating systems of similar strength.

I remember him as kind-hearted fellow, always means well;
Appears superficial, but indeed is a deep well,
Of a truth, a gusher of a large drainage area
Like the Open-hole completed holes of Saudi Arabia.
With a few more souls of his disposition,
The Red Cross/Crescent would lose its position.

I would always remember DON FAFF.
Who sees nothing as wasteful as a laugh.
Instead amasses reserves with much ferocity
That could make China NOCs gaze in perplexity.
He is the deepest of wells, by any grade
An hour with him equals the coveted A-grade.

I remember his remarks scanty and caustic,
Cares less about garnishing them to be fantastic,
They are always on point, I must confess
Though a little dilution would readily impress.
And for his ringtone, Mercy always says no,
Though I wonder if she still says so.

I would always remember the ebullient ZINNY
Resilient and enduring like Mandela’s Winny.
As academic detailed as the Lagos masterplan
And also her groups Master by plan,
“Master” because she proved to have the balls
To go the distance when academic duty calls,

She was the IPS version of “Friends” Monica Gellar
As no one would’ve “run” welfare better.
And her welfare contribution list never gets missing
Despite zillions of wishings and hissings.
I remember the Monday morning apparels
And the “skittle” red bag, drawing no parallels.

I would never forget the seeker of controversy
Or better still, the one who loves controversy.
The brainy Edo-State-born, Ishan’s own finest,
And I dare say, one of Nigeria’s finest,
The one who’s like “two tries”; “two wins”,
In whom intelligence and smartness are Siamese twins.

I remember his unending tons of incisive gists,
And the energetic gesticulations with both fists,
His being a sociopolitical facts repository of repute
Which only Festlajid could and does dispute,
And his deep-rooted abhorrence of physical exertions
Except of course buccal cavity exertions.

I would never forget PUPPIE, the benevolent beast.
Like Nikolai Valuev, the yellow monster from the east.
A Reservoir Engineer at heart, but chants DIL-
Drilling is loved; though the truth is known very well.
And a profound lover of ICT, who shows it,
With his “minky” “I-PETRO “to show for it.

He never settles for less” Il aime les choses en excess”,
Has thirty pairs of footwear, more or less,
An acclaimed, unapologetic polyglot,
With Igbo, Hausa, Yoruba, English and French in the lot.
Everywhere he goes, his I-pod goes as well,
The volume always beyond the threshold,80 decibel.

I would always remember MALIK, BRADA B,
More meticulous than any good old could be,
Clearly evident in the cumbersome courses he cleans out,
And a Ferrari when it comes to writing, no doubt.
He was the in-house pastor with a good heart.
Of a truth he never failed in that part.

I remember the face and the unending smile
And the infectious laugh which makes laughing worthwhile,
And the euphonious sounds that trail it
Since between the two funky ones, he was sandwiched.
And for your “no-time” philosophy, I feel you,
Always asking for the AOC, “droit au but”

I would always remember UDEME JOHN,
Where length of names as long as the proverbial long John,
He is the good old with the lengthiest government name,
With the length of his dedication equally same.
In Reservoir Simulation he’s one of the best
Because the time spent with his PC is simply “no contest”

I remember him as the ever-smiling Chieftain,
Who dexterously directs nature like a “Capitane”,
Who was at his best with the lodge “fumigation”,
And watched over the first-ever sanitary inspection.
For his culinary skills, I doff my hat,
Those skills that stole my stomach and heart.

I would always remember UMEOKAFOR,
One of “The Brother Hood” with the other four.
He, me, Ud, Flow and the Beast were at our worst,
Where being at ones best equals one being at ones worst.
One of the most academically efficient souls alive,
Little wonder he amassed 4.96 out of 5.

I remember him as “Mmuo”, the elusive spirit,
The silent killer, always pushing to the limit.
No wonder, for the coveted price, he pipped the rest,
Emerging, no doubt, as the best of the best.
And though being proud is allowed,
He opts for being crafty and bangingly loud

I would always remember UZOH OKOH
The lady who’s Thesaurus hasn’t the word “No”
For her, “where there is a will, there’s a way”,
Remains true today, tomorrow, any day.
Uzoh Okoh, the lady worth nine lives
With its attendant “Hurray’s” and “High-fives”

I remember her inexplicably high strength,
That could go any reasonable length,
That went to Omoku on a fast bike,
And took care of a Kid, Hubby and a Profession alike.
I would always remember the incredible memory,
Which only pales before Sunny’s Photographic memory.

I would never forget the best mind analytically,
A scion of the dynasty renowned “professionally”,
The one famously and fondly called”DON JAY”,
Which stands for two different things similar in every way.
He’s the one that gets good reports for every of his report,
And has the taciturn “Prosper” giving a verbal report.

I remember his talks like the Pin-Ball machine,
Or better still, a perpetual-motion Machine;
His confident mien, easily misunderstood,
Which when mixed with his “Jays” could look rude;
And his once slim frame for eating sparingly;
And for ever loving Jaiye heavily.

I will never forget the “Boy SUNNY”;
Whose days know no rain, always sunny,
Whose frame and carriage are doubtlessly dazing,
And which the damsels find hot and ever-blazing.
And the fact that he remains frolic kingly harmless,
Leaves many souls absolutely clueless.

I would always remember his beastly memory
A freaky photographic memory,
One which was acclaimed by us all,
And proved very useful “no be small”.
That gift that made beating him a bit harder.
That’s why he enjoys upper rungs of the ladder.

I would always remember FUNKY FLOW,
Never stagnant always dynamic and in flow,
The progenitor of most that we speak and know,
And the funkiest of us all, and deservedly so,
Whose dress sense and swagger can, any mind, blow.
Little wonder, he merited a different rhyme flow.

I remember his diverse engineering backgrounds,
And his abilities that know no bounds,
His Mechanical, Chemical and Petroleum Engineering,
Fashion, Hip-Hop and Chess Engineering.
One of the AK’s Finest; both dynamic and young,
Though in Ibibio Language, incredibly “young”.

As I end this long and tortuous song,
I willfully wish to remain unsung,
Though I possess the right, the License,
But I speak of myself with deafening silence.
Just wishing y’all remember me
As a minky man of valor- MMOV