The Cracked Voice of Ernest Okonkwo

When we lost Ernest Okonkwo to the cold hands of death, football lost too.
The beautiful flower that adorn the beautiful game withered away
We still mourn his demise to this day
It was a huge loss and the big shoes he left, we are yet to find someone who fits the size

Unlike others, Okonkwo was not just a football commentator, but a philosopher, a poetic juggernaut
His voice, a symphony of passion and emotion
His insight and foresight into the game, were beyond human invocation
Master of the spoken word,  an associate from the ethos of the Ogbongé pantheon
Who captivated us, and held us spellbound by the power of his words
And we stayed glued listening...

"Odegbami dilly-dallies, shilly-shallies,
 And locates elastic Humphrey Edobor
The storm is gathering near the opponent’s goal area,
and it will soon rain a goal.
Edobor turns quickly, returns the ball to Odegbami.
Mathematical Odegbami mesmerized the defender
and threw a long pass to Quicksilver Sylvanus Okpala
Who shoots an intercontinental ballistic missile
From outside the penalty box.
It's a goal! It's a goal!! Nigeria has scored!..."
That was when Nigeria was Nigeria
But now, the once dreaded giant killer has become mere toy for the underdogs
Our formidable team has become so porous, like a bunch of pregnant women on the pitch

It is not colonial mentality, I do not blame our fans for switching allegiance to Premier League and UEFA Champions League
Let us say the truth, the romance are more intense and satisfying
You may argue and score a point
All the capital flight and energy we expend in supporting foreign football
Should have been redirected to grow our local content
 That's common sense

But nothing in our football captivate us anymore
The stadiums are empty, the vibrant chants from the crowd have faded
The drumming, trumpeting and the cheers of victory, all but a distant memory
The rivalry between Enugu Rangers and I ICC Shooting stars had buried the hatchet since the eighties

How Okonkwo foresaw these things and vehemently cried out until his voice became hoarse
When we resorted to pushing square pegs into round holes, parading mediocrity
Blind administrators leading, journeymen coaches and 'anywhere belly face' footballers
We did all that for inclusion, in fulfillment of quota system

Our fans hate this, a freelancer running commentary in a moment of candor
One who could not even differentiate a sheep from a goat or one player from another
who often flaw in parlance and in the interpretation of the rules of the game
We have been dosing, nodding our head all through the game and from falling asleep our football has gone into comatose

We could no longer stay glued to our radio, but switching channels or turning off TVs when our boys play in the league
I do not blame their sluggishness, these work no pay footballers, playing with empty stomach from days of not eating, only 'smoking garri'

Rather managers resort to fixing matches, bribing referees, employing thuggery to win at all cost And we now suffer from 'home win syndrome'
And can no longer control the brain drain of our players

Our football rating has declined deplorably, We've lost faith in the association
Billions of Naira lost of TV rights, Sponsors keep our football at arms length

From where we are now, we could only hear distance echoes, fading voices from the ghost of the past years
The cracked voice of Ernest Okonkwo, stuttering