Dear Chinua Achebe, by now you must know that you are dead, but it’s your 87th birthday, we celebrate it for you live on, in many dimensions that’s life giving.
Sir I wish you were still alive, but a wish, a mere one it is.
I wish so, for you struck me as the most sensible of all great authors I’ve read from, I wish so for I’m no longer at ease, wish I could see you and seek wisdom on how to deal with things falling apart, I believe in HIM, but dear Albert, it’s like the arrow of God is against me, fret not, I wrote this in whispers, I mean no evil.
You are a man of the people, seemingly the last true one we had the chance to have. Your words I ruminate on for sense and a glint of hope, light’s essence. I’ve not really in maturity read your works but I recall important stuffs.
A girl asked recently Sir, that what should she do when it seems like everything around her is asking that she quits?
Well, I simply answered that, I recall Chinua in one of his books write that; “the Igbos have a saying, a man can not refused to be asked a question, but has all rights to decide whether to answer or not” I roughly quote.
Dear Achebe, I seldom mistake your pieces as excerpts from the bible. Live on old friend.
They’ll feel I’m mad but I feel strongly that you read already.
I’m glad you smiled Sir.
(c)Cirphrank IWrite PoeticAli
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Categories: literaturePoetic


Cirphrank is a pun. Web developer, content writer, 2D minimalist UI, blogger. Breathing poetry. What makes many mad makes some Philosophers, what makes others sad makes me write. A lover of tech and the arts.

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