But you see, that is the thing with the petit ones like us with very short (but not necessarily feeble) legs. As in the manner of Zacheus, whenever the big masquerade is coming to town, it is most prudent to set out early and find ourselves a sycamore tree, lest we be lost in the crowd! This is our sycamore tree.
Omiragua, these words cannot contain you. They cannot define or 'wash' you. They can only TRY.
How do you cook and conjure written wishes that befits a man who is a WORDSMITH himself, a connoisseur of fine words- written and spoken?
I suppose you hide under the veil of 'menteeship' cum 'sonship' and pen him an incoherent doggerel and hope that it will make him chuffed, or just grin, also hoping he does not apply the corporate law doctrine of lifting the veil on you!
Do you put on Charles Bukowski's glasses or do you summon Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels hoping they would whisper a truth only them know about their fellow Comrade?
Do you engage Lycurgus of Sparta, Draco and Solon in the hope of learning a thing or two about a lawmaker of their kind?
Do you drink a with Abe Lincoln and Madiba? Do you besiege Justice Chukwifu Oputa, Justice Niki Tobi and Gani, hoping to understand how to be astute and unwavering as this fellow of their class?
How do you 'welfare' the welfarist?
In what language do you write a man who is a master of languages? (I've never seen a man who speaks as many Nigerian languages as you, sir.)
How do you conjure cheerfulness, intellect, sheer strength and courage in mere ABC's?
How? How? How?
Leader, you have been the giant's shoulder on which we stand to see far into some fundamental issues in life.
On your birthday, we wish all the smile and laughter your heart can carry. We wish you more grace. We wish you long life and prosperity and we wish you perfect health.
Happy birthday, Omelora!
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