To Achebe

Of what use is the pen when the ink is dry?

Why should I hide this pain when it makes me cry?

With this sword you took the world by storm,

With this rod you became its beloved son

You captured minds and held them as a piece

You beckoned the world to trace the path of peace.

What happens now, Achebe,

When you, the Thing at the centre,

Have Fallen Apart and scattered?

Your death has made me feel this pain

And so I pay my tribute with my pen!

by Effiong Samuel on 21/03/2013 (It was a cold, lonely evening and I was stuck in a dark room in Patani, Delta state, Nigeria, as part of my National Youth Service.  It was hot inside but I dared not open the door for there were hundreds of mosquitoes just waiting for the opportunity. I suddenly found solace in the ringtone of the phone on the bed. It was my brother. He spoke for just 3 second: “Achebe is dead!”. I lit the candle, picked up my pen, opened to my journal and started writing the poem.)

A drawing tribute in my Delta Diaries journal, made the same day the poem was written.

Your support is appreciated

I’m sure you enjoyed your experience here and would like to make a kind donation to me. Thank you, in advance!


Innocently the clock sits still like a studentThe seconds hand ticks past the minuteThe minute...
(…for Ogbonnaya Agwu and his irreplaceable loss. December 2015) It was just a simple phrase...
Yesterday a bare land stood Beneath it, a zeal the future dares Today a castle...
Sometimes we need the riverbanks to break                 To know how tame the river has...
Tears, tears I cannot c­­ry yet tears, tears that cannot dry burst my heart, my...
The evergreen bush is set ablaze By the merciless heat rays It scourges my gentle...
0 0 votes
Article Rating
Notify of
Inline Feedbacks
View all comments
Would love your thoughts, please comment.x