By Noel A. Ihebuzor

If my tongue does not move to mourn you

it is not that I am now dumb

sorrow like a furnace has dried up the dew

that freshens this soul, now numb

inside me all is dry, parched

save moist eyes from whence sorrow

tumbles down to an earth drenched

in the blood of a suddenly closed tomorrow

 

Juanita, if you could hear me

broken now, forlorn me

my wooden tongue stuck to my palate, me

throat dried, cracked and broken, me

 

If you could decode my silent sobbing,

you would sense my inner voice,

linked with a thousand others, hurting

wailing and railing at failed social services

in a continent that is yet to learn to rise and live

mourning a star departed

on the morning before her arrival

 

***** I got news yesterday PM of  Juanita’s death. Juanita was/is a colleague, friend, soul mate, poet and one with whom I shared several intellectual coffees and visions for inclusive global development. Now, she is gone..and what pains most is that this death could have been avoided! Sleep well, Junaita…Juanitissima as I would tease you! 

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22 thoughts on “Juanita During

  1. Life brings with it misery that our understandng continue to wonder about. A genus and human colleague,who create time to listen to you when you have issues to discuss, who talks and give sincere advice as at when needed, who thrives to better the lots of everyone around,now she is gone! May her soul rest in eternal peace

  2. My heart is heavy but we must celebrate her life. So I smile for all the good times
    and the not so good times. I will miss her.

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