The plane crash that took place at Omagwa,outskirts of Port Harcourt, Nigeria, on 10th December, 2005, killing all onboard.

Nothing betrayed the hint

That you would not deliver in peace.

The sky’s face wasn’t rumpled

In a thousand wrinkled pockmarks;

Neither were the heads of mortals below

Dank with tears from on high.

When labour came suddenly,

Knocking ferociously on your door,

You jetted out majestically,

Zooming thru space

In a pace

That was hardly lady-like

Not to talk of one

With a protuberance of the midriff,

Daring the Zuma,

Like the puma,

In some strange forest,

To an altitude contest,

Until you suddenly touched down by the nose,

Genuflecting at the foot of Omagwa

Which you chose as your labour room.

You spilled your ghastly content

Amidst wails of agony

And tongues of phonetic babelia

Crushed togeyther in a wedlock

Averse to any social,

Chronological or gender hiatus.

Tenth December, Two Thousand and Five.

May your kind

Never again be born

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