In the land where the mangroves whisper to the moon,
Where the palm fronds dance to the wind,
And the tides carry stories older than the drums,
There rose men whose hearts beat for the people,
Men whose footsteps plant seeds of hope on weary soil.
Three men stand -- not as shadows,
But as pillars carved from the bedrock of compassion.
Tompolo, Matthew Tonlagha, Kestin Pondi
Names carried in the breeze like sacred drums,
Your names are woven into the wind,
Sung by paddlers along the creeks,
Whispered by children whose futures you have lit.
Like Odysseus, your journeys have been long,
Yet your compass always points to humanity.
Like Hercules, you lift burdens too heavy for most men,
You have turned nightmares into resting places for wheels and weary feet,
Turning despair into golden fields of hope.
Like Achilles before the walls of Troy,
You stand unyielding against the ruin that threatens your land,
Shielding your people from neglect with the armor of love.
You have stitched the torn fabric of the roads,
Mending wounds in Effurun, in Bendel Estate, in other places
Where the ground itself cried for healing.
Once, potholes drank the sweat of motorists;
Now they drink the rain in silence,
As tar and stone keep vigil in your name.
The roads are no longer graves for dreams,
They are rivers where wheels swim free.
But your reach is broader than roads.
You have built schools that cradle young minds,
So that the boy in the creeks may rise and speak with the voice of the city,
And the girl in the city may carry the wisdom of the river.
You have mended hospitals,
Giving them roofs that do not leak, and beds where pain can rest in healing.
You have turned marketplaces into living hearts,
Empowering women with tools, knowledge, and dignity,
Planting palm seedlings that will shade generations yet unborn.
When the moon is shining, the weary walks without fear.
You have become the moon to a people lost in night.
Because of you, fear has fled from the creeks;
Hope now dances on the water’s skin.
Your generosity moves without trumpet,
Yet it roars like the River Niger beneath the silence.
Like the sun that does not proclaim its rising,
You rise everywhere -- in dreams, in streets, in the sound of laughter.
The heart that gives gathers;
Your hearts have gathered tears and turned them into laughter,
Gathered dust and turned it into paths of pride,
Gathered despair and turned it into a sweet melody.
In the quiet, you plant kindness like yam in the earth.
VC Engineer Matthew Tonlagha,
You walk through the marketplaces like a shepherd counting his flock,
Carrying wisdom in one hand and relief in the other.
MD, Chief Kestin Pondi,
You are the quiet storm, lifting homes from the dust without a single boast.
Tompolo, the Chairman,
You are the anchor where the river rests,
A tree whose shade falls equally on stranger and kin.
Together, you are the trinity of tide, earth, and sky ,
Unchanging, unbreakable, with roots that drink from truth itself.
The Izon blood in your veins speaks truth and compassion,
Pure blood, pure truth, pure belonging.
Your hands are rivers; they do not choose whom to quench.
Your compassion is not measured in coin;
It is measured in bridges mended,
In children fed, in widows armed with trade,
In communities revived from the brink.
You have become the griots of progress,
Telling your story through action, not words.
The three pillars — you have become the bridge no storm can break.
Your love walks without shoes,
Yet it enters every hut, every market stall, every classroom,
Carrying the pure water of humanity.
When the roots are deep, there is no reason to fear the wind.
Your compassion to the less privileged is such a root,
Deep in the soil of the Niger Delta,
Untouched by jealousy,
Unshaken by the storms of greed.
Like ancient heroes carved into marble,
Your deeds will outlive the ticking of the seasons.
May the Almighty keep your canoes steady
And your oars glide on waters of peace.
May the wind of blessings always fill your sails.
For the river knows the hands that steer it true,
And the earth remembers the feet that bring it peace.
You have touched your people,
In the creeks, in the cities, in the unseen corners of their hearts,
And the land itself kneels to bless you,
Long after the drums have quieted,
Long after the people, roads, hospitals, classrooms, and the weary have forgotten their pain.
The Anchor holds when all tides rage,
The Storm clears paths for tomorrow’s sun,
The Shepherd leads where hope takes root,
Together they plant peace in the Delta’s soul.
EBIKABOWEI KEDIKUMO – writes from Ayakoromo Town, Delta State
08134853570
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