I remember when we were dodgers,
of intiger's paracetamol of computation...
Not knowing it was a fertilization...
That better production...

I remember when I ran a relay race
With fellow folks on blue and white
Singing a song, 'Fire  on the Mountain,

Run, run, run!'
The noise and sweat is over
today
My legs are on the stop line...

And the baton is taken...

If I remember how we learned...
we leaned...
we ran as union...
I feel like reversing to school...
Returning to form a union...

But if I remember the ugly and sad times, I had in primitive period...
I feel like not going back ...
To the dead period
buried on ground

Suddenly today comes a time
When all graduates come
To remember primal class, methinks there comes not a time
When all GHS products would come...
On dining table and dine...
Like when we were primary children...

Dear our teachers you are like farmers
That farm on our lands
For long planting seeds
Know that it will never give heat
Your service is unrewardable
Only God can reward you
All the shade we spread now
Comes after your fertilization

Written By

Muhammad Auwal
Ibrahim