Tribute to Mr. Christopher Bognet

Tribute to Mr. Christopher Bognet

It would have been a good day

But the sun refused to shine

The cold hand of death was at work

And my hero traveled! Never to return

Wish the news was a joke

I was looking forward to seeing you at our annual reunion

To listen to your elderly works

Oh no! Mr. Christopher Bognet

Being your student was an honor

Having you as a mentor was a privilege

Confiding in you as a friend was a golden opportunity

Our tomorrow is shining because you were a father

From your wealth of experience I learn

That the hen comes from the egg

So also the egg comes from the hen

You never hesitated to teach me  

That the shape of the nose matters not

As long as one can breathe through it

And the size of the head has no significance

Provided it can think and reason

Rest on my motivated motivator

Sleep well my disciplined disciplinarian

Farewell my formative formator

Safe journey my teachable teacher, till we meet again

Adieu Mr. Christopher Bognet

By

Bijimi Daniel Meindous

THE DISAPPOINTED HOPE.

With three eggs in her nest

Awaiting hatching in three days

She savor the sweetness of three offspring

With joy of being a mother of three

Then comes the storm

That blew away her dreams

Denied her the joy of motherhood

Leaving her with three wasted efforts

So many things runs through her mind

 What if I had a stronger nest?

What if I put my eggs in three different nests?

What if I used a friendlier three?

What if, just what if?

She ponders and wonders

 At the turn of events

Oh her disappointed hope

Oh no, not from you she cried

Experience now, her bitter lesson

But she wipes her eyes to move on

Looking at the sun for clarity

By

Bijimi Daniel Meindous.

SHE NEEDS A PEN NOT A PENIS. (A call against girl child marriage)

She needs a pen not a penis.

She needs a text book not a conjugal bed.

She needs the classroom not the labour room.

She is a child too young to have a child.

Her biological composition is not ripe for womanhood.

 Her mentality not matured for parenthood.

Her physical strength not strong for a house wife.

She is a child not a bride.

You consider her consent irrelevant.

Her opinion does not count.

Her future dreams is been shattered.

Her economic contribution to the nation has been hampered.

All by a wicked system with no justification.

Oppressing the helpless and most vulnerable.

You should care for her education not your ejaculation.

She needs fatherly direction not husband’s erection.

By

Bijimi Daniel Meindous.

THE UNFOURTUNATE TREE.

Its economic importance is very high.

Expensive it is and not easily found.

Where it’s found is highly privilege.

Its financial benefit can upgrade its owner.

With all these virtues this tree is been deserted.

The rain has refused to fall on it.

Yet the owner will not water it.

The sun has also not been of help.

The soil has refused coming to its aid.

The little minerals it tries absorbing has been denied

Refusal has been the word it hears mostly.

And sadness has been its mood always.

It struggles hard for survival.

The wind might blow him little hope.

But a farmer who knows its importance is coming.

And will show the tree love like never before.

By

Bijimi Daniel Meindous

DEATH! WHAT HAVE WE DONE?

Death the invisible one that can never be seen.

Death the unbeatable one that can never be defeated.

Death the worst thief that can never be caught.

Death the one that steals nice people but nothing can be stolen from him.

Is it because you have no parents that you take others parents?

Is it because you have no children that you take others children?

Is it because you have no relatives that you take others relatives?

Is it because you have no friends that you take others friends?

Death the over comer that can never be overcome.

Death the conqueror that cannot be conquered.

Death the persecutor that cannot be persecuted.

Death the killer that cannot be killed.

Death a cross everyone must carry.

Death a destiny everyone must reach.

Death a cup everyone must drink.

Death an inevitable debt everyone must pay.

Death where am I safe? Where is my refuge?

Not even in my mother’s womb.

I tremble at your footsteps.

You open wide your mouth awaiting my downfall.

Death my mortal enemy.

Death my worst weakness.

But why were you ever created?

Why not life? Life forever.

Death the final end of one’s life.

But the beginning of another new life.

As one dies he only transforms to the new life.

Death just a rite of passage.

By

Bijimi Daniel Meindous.

MY LADY IDOL

A face brighter than the moon.

A well structured body that draws every eye.

A mellifluous voice that can break a curse.

A smile that is better than the air I breathe.

Is the least qualities found in her.

Well cultured and mannered.

An immaculate creature indeed she is.

Where beauty is an understatement to be used.

Her name itself has a healing power to my soul.

I call it much more than the number of stars.

Impatiently, I wait for her arrival.

A ghost footsteps I can hear while expecting her.