There Goes My Teacher – Poem By Elorm Nunana Billy-Awittor

There goes my teacher,
The one who brought us up by hand,
His steps are as sure as Afadjato
And his movements as graceful as an eagle’s.
There he goes with his wonderful book
Smiling brightly and ready to serve.

There goes my teacher,
The mastermind,
His body beams radiant energy
And his mind floods with amazing knowledge.
There he goes, his chalk ever ready,
To the classroom
Where eager students await his impacting lessons.

There goes my teacher,
His ways much like the resolute farmer
Who patiently tends fertile and non -fertile soil alike.
He strives to enrich them with his wit and craft,
And plants the seeds that ’ll surely bloom.

There goes my teacher,
The skillful builder and master smith
Whose hardwork restores the nation’ s hopes.
There he goes laying bricks of discipline
Bonded together with the mortar of correction.
His sweat truly forges us
Into men and women of integrity.

There goes my teacher,
The humble one, the suffering one
Whose back is as solid as a mountain
Never aching for a minute.
There he goes lowering himself like steps
In great sacrifice, while others climb to glory.

There goes my teacher
The most disdained of all workers.
Yea, foolish youth call him “common chalk holder”
Yet his chalk builds their future,
Each stroke lays one more brick.

There goes my teacher
Though great yet a beggar
He begs not for favour or for waiver only for some of life’s little comforts:
a roof over the family’s head good food to keep body and soul in one piece good education for the children’ s tomorrow four wheels to end the drudgery of walking smashing bright kente for Sunday service a trip or two to cheer the family and enough to put away against retirement.
My teacher demands not paradise,
not even heaven Just enough comfort to live here on earth

There goes my teacher,
My good old teacher
His graceful steps now eroded by years of overwork and depressing pittance
Injustice now stares him blankly in the face
As the grave speedily beckons
There he goes full of the misery
That scares the young from ever holding chalk
Empty classrooms will soon foretell
The first signs of national gloom and doom
Gameli Adzaho

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