BY GUEST WRITER: Emekoma G. Ugochukwu
For long spells, our return was anticipated,
After we got the wind, that we had been accredited,
Eventually our return was warmly greeted and heralded,
But, sadly, we wished it had earlier ended,
After so much schemes, games, and power play, we got started.
Friendships were on offer for the bargain,
Near-dead ones alive, but with naught to gain,
Relishing fond memories, one i recalled with pain,
After so much effort, the master’s verdict: ‘Begin Again’
The new dispensation had no wits to feign.
We were well behind time,
Long would I have gone, then in my prime,
But for a new chip, from a close clime,
With the master’s thinking, your ‘Bias’ must rhyme,
Or, you are adjudged guilty of a crime.
Like a whirlwind we scampered from pillar to post,
Chasing nothing, not even a ghost,
New courses, topics, supervisors, a new regime for a smooth coast,
But ‘not in the heat of the game, do you change the goal post’ was the toast,
Poor us, we were set for the roast.
So much work was set in place,
Tipsy-Turvy, to pull one out of the race,
‘Bias’, ‘Otikpo’, ‘Case Studies’ moped at my sullen face,
Ah! The Working Drawing we must trace,
Surely, the bigger Master gives me grace.
Studio-Sleeping was by compulsion the culture,
Fun we made it, though with so much torture,
‘Double Skin’, ‘Blending’, ‘Towards’, . . . . and ‘Niboish’ gesture,
‘Researches’, ‘Chapter Submission’, ‘Bias’, all in the picture,
Interestingly, you need a bit of everything in Architecture.
The elders met the studio-thingy with fierce resistance,
Some other characters by it sought and gained acceptance,
The master demanded routine visits to show obeisance,
Clash of egos, interests, . . . . often caused some nuisance,
Anyway, our Holy Graile had Zammy saddled with its maintenance.
Of course, hard work does not kill,
Timed Sleeping, yet without a pill,
Running the ‘Temp. and Perm. Site’ like a treadmill,
Programmes, Time-Tables, Agreements, broken at will,
To the coming group, you or your group may over spill,
‘After rain comes shine’ gave us hope,
We saw in each other reasons to cope,
Cautiously, we walked the tight rope,
To please him who was as revered as the Pope,
String Immunity, a tough skin against mosquitoes, a hunch back, i did develop,
The date is known, but the participants are not known,
After so many juries, seemed we had not grown,
A new cliché had emerged, ‘Gaba Alone’,
Some chicks to the Permanent Site had flown,
But we must all get our own.
The day must come to be liberated
After eternity, it did come and we participated,
The results and proceeds of hardwork were demonstrated,
Failure, Frustrations, Friction, and all, graciously abated,
The good news is that we finally graduated.
Dedicated to all Gaba-alonians
Ugo Emekoma ©
August, 2012
Charleyrosu 