Heavy Reminders

A non fiction, short memoir for my late teacher and best friend

HEAVY REMINDERS
.....................................................................

Hello Sir,
I woke up today with nothing but thoughts of you as you visited me in that subconscious realm where time are ashes. I hugged you and stared into your eyes------the two little bulbs of light that stared from a socket, dimmed by age and a weary skin. It looked like 2005 and I was a boy in oversized shorts again. The way you called my name with an air of dignity; making every syllable swell under the cadence of your voice.

I was a boy. My mind was little. I couldn't understand the subtle motions of love. My eyes were sharp enough to hunt grasshoppers in grasslands but too blunt to see the ripples of affection...the silent throbbing of a heart that loved me sincerely deeply.

He taught me English. I learnt his handwriting: a magical contraption of letters crafted with the devotion of a painter. It was beyond magnificent, and even more magnificent were the sentences they spelt. You taught me that a word was a deity that worshipped man and bore the messages of his wandering imagination. I learned, I learned, I learned English and stole many words before others realized their potency.

You loved me deeply sincerely. I am dizzy from dreaming about you. My glowing heart has been crushed by heavy reminders. But you said even in the loving silence of death: STAY AHEAD.

Dear Sir, I am your son. I am the offspring of your passion. I am your dream in the age of evolution. I am the budding flower of your pollination. I am the subdued whispers of the words you couldn't say before you left...

Once upon a time when my days were green. An old man walked into a primary 5 class where I lounged...and that was the beginning of my life...

Once upon a time about this time. He left. A hot metal bullet from the men of the underworld had pierced his life balloon and he bowed out with my name on his dying lips.

Sir,
Do you know that your Michael couldn't attend your burial because he had no 'cotina' shoe?
Do you know that I later became the senior prefect. As little as me and my age, I commanded from elevations armed with my arsenal of words... your handiwork.

Sir.
Do you know I studied English? Yes I did. I have immortalised your memories in faint lines of poetry in a fourteen year old English exercise book.

Sir, do you know I made you proud. I made a first class for you; and even my first born in fiction has been dedicated to your loving memory.

Today, I have posted without editing, wishfully hoping you would look at them: squeezing your face and squinting your eyes, you will point out most alluringly--- the little tense inconsistencies.....

A. A. Obodoechi I miss you. And heaven knows that I will continue to pronounce your name.....sleep gentle soul.

Let me join Adichie by saying: Uwa m uwa ozo, Obodoechi will be my teacher!

Reminders are heavy.

D Driva.

Reviews

[richieb]

D Driva, A beautiful tribute to your friend and teacher. I can feel your love and respect for this man and share your deep sorrow for his tragic passing. He has taught you well and his spirit will continue to refresh your heart and soul with peace, understanding and love. You write well my friend. Richie B.