It hath yet to clear away
from the skies of the bereaved
hearts: of family and friends,
neighbours and colleagues, church
members and associates--the
sudden pall of smoke of sorrow
that arose a week agone, precisely
on the Lord's Day last--from the
debris of deaths of the Dana plane
accident in Lagos, Nigeria.

When that evil bruit first
on the radio i heard, like lead
sank fast to the very base of
the sea of woe, my heart; and
wailing was i within like a child
that's bereft of breast milk. I
could not my tongue find again, for
words were as sand heavy in my
mouth. All earthly pleasures did de-
part my thoughts at once, losing
all known appetites for ecstasy

For the 153 souls that perished
in the ill-fated plane crash, when
upon a two-story building with its
belly fell; killing 6 more people
besides the number aboard the aircraft
who, like everyone else on that Sunday, were
having a nice day in their various homes.

of whose tale amongst the unfortunate
victims should i tell thee: Is it
of the bright, warm and lovely lady
that came from the US to celebrate
her brother's wedding with her children
and died along with her family whole--
husband, two kids, and a set of
twins, mother, and two cousins? Or is
it of those who had gone to visit their
friends but met their death untimely
in that damaged building? Or is it
of the air hostess that was to get
married next July? Or is it of the very
reverend Cole and his darling wife?
Or is it of the brass hats, professor,
corps member and top civil servants? I can
not exhaust the tragedy's list! It's too
great a tale to be told by me--the
sad loss of precious lives like mine!

And for 3 days in grief hung the country's
flag in a half-flown position, lowering
its high head in ashes of sympathy
as the nation at large did mourn
the dead and condoled with their families.