SHAKE DOWN A BED FOR ME (1995)

            This piece captures life; as a journey. And its hydra-headed struggles. That is the very idiosyncrasies that gives it character, cohesion/in-cohesion, comprehension/in-comprehension as the cases may be.

            Now you may pause this second. And ask yourself; can you turn to in the time of storm. As shaggy (American Musician) said in a song: life is one big party. But who’s gonna have your back when it’s all done? And from Izzia’s perspective; who is going to shake down a Bed for you?

            The cold, cold wind

            It chills to the bone

            The fatal hour will strike

            For each man alone

            And when I sink like a stone

            Into sorrows immensities

            You’ll shake Down a Bed for me.

            And so, this is a poem about TRUST. And the up-holding or otherwise of that trust. It is said that a friend in Need, is a friend in-Deed”. A friend in need is “tested and trusted friend”-who’ll “shake down a Bed for you” where the corn grows: hear Izzia!

            A true friend is a shelterin’ Tree

            In the howlin’ storm of life…

            That’s what you’ve been to me

            … when the twisted limbs of club-footed gods trip me.

            You will shake Down a Bed for me

            Not a man is left in me

            That pisses against the wall

            Not a withered sycamore leaf

            To cover the naked soul

            My friends spit my name into their beers

            Scornfully, But you’ll shake down a Bed for me.

            Izzia left for Nassarawa, where he continued discussions with the Governor, leaving our Plateau Chapter of the Association of Nigerian Authors in shambles – fancy a herd of sheep’s without a shepherd . everyone was pissed with him. They criticized him. They said he was just talk. They said he was in-law to Dan Tenshak (my boss then, and benefactor) who was Chairman ANA-Plateau before him around the millennium convention and jettisoned his duties owing to mis-understanding and dis-enchantment (he told me). They said Izzia was of the same stork as him. I thought it was most unfair to say the least. And Izzia, just like Dan Tenshak had planned the whole year out for our local Chapter. Month by Calendar month and activities coinciding with the world creativity Day. Writers’ retreat at choice tourist places on the Plateau, readings in Hill Crest School, Jos as part of ANA outreach … an entire modus operandi including how to generate funds and ensure vibrancies and correct relevance to the society. Dan Tenshak pulled out due to dis-enchantment. Izzia told me. And Steve Rampam he was going to use his new position as special adviser to the Nassarawa Government to launch our chapter to its full glory (remember, among a few others, he started the Lagos Chapter. And they used to meet in his house!).

            His absence dimmed the fire and warmth. I always relished at our readings. It was a chasm that has not and could never be filled. “If Izzia doesn’t come back, I’m going back to leave this ANA.”

            I complained bitterly and Steve Rampam related it to him at one of his weekend forays into Jos and as Steve told me later on – he was very sad indeed and urged me to stay on, promising to be back fully as soon as he finished his assignment. And he never came back.

            “Did you hear the news about Izzia?” Dr. Klien had texted me one weekend while I was using delay tactics to waiting for lunch in a friend’s house. Leaving the lunch and hurrying on to Dul’s house I was told that he had severed all physical ties with goddam world. God how I wept! And that was the end of Izzia Ahmad. We had a wake keep at his home in Rayfield and I read the poem “LET US CRY”