FOR DR MRS ADADEVOH-
Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard…By Thomas Gray
The curfew tolls the knell of parting day,
The lowing herd wind slowly o’er the lea,
The plowman homeward plods his weary way,
And leaves the world to darkness and to me.
Now fades the glimm’ring landscape on the sight,
And all the air a solemn stillness holds,
Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight,
And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds;
Save that from yonder ivy-mantled tow’r
The moping owl does to the moon complain
Of such, as wand’ring near her secret bow’r,
Molest her ancient solitary reign.
Beneath those rugged elms, that yew-tree’s shade,
Where heaves the turf in many a mould’ring heap,
Each in his narrow cell for ever laid,
The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep.
The breezy call of incense-breathing Morn,
The swallow twitt’ring from the straw-built shed,
The cock’s shrill clarion, or the echoing horn,
No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed.
For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn,
Or busy housewife ply her evening care:
No children run to lisp their sire’s return,
Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share.
Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield,
Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke;
How jocund did they drive their team afield!
How bow’d the woods beneath their sturdy stroke!
Let not Ambition mock their useful toil,
Their homely joys, and destiny obscure;
Nor Grandeur hear with a disdainful smile
The short and simple annals of the poor.
The boast of heraldry, the pomp of pow’r,
And all that beauty, all that wealth e’er gave,
Awaits alike th’ inevitable hour.
The paths of glory lead but to the grave.
Nor you, ye proud, impute to these the fault,
If Mem’ry o’er their tomb no trophies raise,
Where thro’ the long-drawn aisle and fretted vault
The pealing anthem swells the note of praise.
Can storied urn or animated bust
Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath?
Can Honour’s voice provoke the silent dust,
Or Flatt’ry soothe the dull cold ear of Death?
Perhaps in this neglected spot is laid
Some heart once pregnant with celestial fire;
Hands, that the rod of empire might have sway’d,
Or wak’d to ecstasy the living lyre.
But Knowledge to their eyes her ample page
Rich with the spoils of time did ne’er unroll;
Chill Penury repress’d their noble rage,
And froze the genial current of the soul.
Full many a gem of purest ray serene,
The dark unfathom’d caves of ocean bear:
Full many a flow’r is born to blush unseen,
And waste its sweetness on the desert air.
Some village-Hampden, that with dauntless breast
The little tyrant of his fields withstood;
Some mute inglorious Milton here may rest,
Some Cromwell guiltless of his country’s blood.
Th’ applause of list’ning senates to command,
The threats of pain and ruin to despise,
To scatter plenty o’er a smiling land,
And read their hist’ry in a nation’s eyes,
Their lot forbade: nor circumscrib’d alone
Their growing virtues, but their crimes confin’d;
Forbade to wade through slaughter to a throne,
And shut the gates of mercy on mankind,
The struggling pangs of conscious truth to hide,
To quench the blushes of ingenuous shame,
Or heap the shrine of Luxury and Pride
With incense kindled at the Muse’s flame.
Far from the madding crowd’s ignoble strife,
Their sober wishes never learn’d to stray;
Along the cool sequester’d vale of life
They kept the noiseless tenor of their way.
Yet ev’n these bones from insult to protect,
Some frail memorial still erected nigh,
With uncouth rhymes and shapeless sculpture deck’d,
Implores the passing tribute of a sigh.
Their name, their years, spelt by th’ unletter’d muse,
The place of fame and elegy supply:
And many a holy text around she strews,
That teach the rustic moralist to die.
For who to dumb Forgetfulness a prey,
This pleasing anxious being e’er resign’d,
Left the warm precincts of the cheerful day,
Nor cast one longing, ling’ring look behind?
On some fond breast the parting soul relies,
Some pious drops the closing eye requires;
Ev’n from the tomb the voice of Nature cries,
Ev’n in our ashes live their wonted fires.
For thee, who mindful of th’ unhonour’d Dead
Dost in these lines their artless tale relate;
If chance, by lonely contemplation led,
Some kindred spirit shall inquire thy fate,
Haply some hoary-headed swain may say,
“Oft have we seen him at the peep of dawn
Brushing with hasty steps the dews away
To meet the sun upon the upland lawn.
“There at the foot of yonder nodding beech
That wreathes its old fantastic roots so high,
His listless length at noontide would he stretch,
And pore upon the brook that babbles by.
“Hard by yon wood, now smiling as in scorn,
Mutt’ring his wayward fancies he would rove,
Now drooping, woeful wan, like one forlorn,
Or craz’d with care, or cross’d in hopeless love.
“One morn I miss’d him on the custom’d hill,
Along the heath and near his fav’rite tree;
Another came; nor yet beside the rill,
Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he;
“The next with dirges due in sad array
Slow thro’ the church-way path we saw him borne.
Approach and read (for thou canst read) the lay,
Grav’d on the stone beneath yon aged thorn.”
Here rests his head upon the lap of Earth
A youth to Fortune and to Fame unknown.
Fair Science frown’d not on his humble birth,
And Melancholy mark’d him for her own.
Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere,
Heav’n did a recompense as largely send:
He gave to Mis’ry all he had, a tear,
He gain’d from Heav’n (’twas all he wish’d) a friend.
No farther seek his merits to disclose,
Or draw his frailties from their dread abode,
(There they alike in trembling hope repose)
The bosom of his Father and his God.
Fading away like the stars of the morning,
Losing their light in the glorious sun:
Thus would we pass from the earth and its toiling
Only remembered by what we have done.
Only the truth that in life we have spoken,
Only the seed that on earth we have sown;
These shall pass onward when we are forgotten,
Fruits of the earth and of what we have done.
Shall we be missed, though by others succeeded,
Reaping the fields we in springtime have sown?
Yes, but the sowers must pass from their labours
Ever remembered by what they have done.
Only remembered, only remembered,
Only remembered by what we have done:
Thus would we pass from the earth and its toiling
Only remembered by what we have done.
(Composed by Carrie Belle Adams, 1859–1940).
A relative speaks
A close relative of the late Adadevoh who alleged that her case was mismanaged, said, no attempt was made to provide her with any of the experimental drugs that were said to be available for the management the disease.
The relative, who spoke anonymously, expressed dissatisfaction over her death, saying that she would have survived had any of the experimental drugs been administered on her.
Blaming the Federal Government for failure to procure a suitable experimental drug, the relative who claimed to be one of the secondary contacts currently being monitored by government, argued that by virtue of the fact that the World Health Organisation approved that other experimental drugs be used for Ebola patients due to the magnitude of the problem, why did the Federal Government refuse to heed the recommendation? If they had used all they had at their disposal to treat her, she would have survived.”
A consultant at the First Consultants Medical Centre, described the deceased as diligent and thorough.
“She was very particular about the standard of medical services in the country. She was never ready to compromise the management of a patient. I’m not surprised that she did not discharge Sawyer, and that she alerted the state health authorities. Not many doctors would have done that,” she said.
A gallant death and big loss to the nation — Omolola
Reacting to the news of the death of Dr Stella Ameyo Adedavoh , National President, Association of General and Medical Private Practitioners, AGMPN, Dr. Anthony Omolola described her death as gallant, adding that her exit was a great loss to the medical profession and the nation at large.
Omolola said: “We are not happy losing our colleagues. Again, we are happy at the circumstances because it was in the process of saving a person she did not know was having Ebola that she picked the virus.
“It was in swift reaction to the emergency to keep the patients alive that she picked the virus which was imported into the country. But again, it was a gallant death. She will still be remembered for her efforts and that she died while carrying out a humanitarian duty.
“It is a big loss to the Nigerian Medical Association, NMA because it is very painful when you lose a senior colleague who has put in so many years of meritorious service to the profession in the country and beyond.
It is a big loss to the medical profession and to this country,” he noted.
He further urged Nigerian government to prevent such occurrence by ensuring that healthcare workers are applying the standard Universal Principle to attend to patients.
It is unfortunate— Balogun
In his response, the Chairman, Board of First Consultant Hospital, Obalende, Dr Wale Balogun who declined to speak on Ebola issues however, described her death as unfortunate.
“It is unfortunate that we lost her. What we did in an emergency meeting about three weeks ago is that reactions on Ebola since we are easily excited people that the Commissioner for Health and the Minister of Health should be communicating to the public and that is the way I want to see it.
“As an individual, I feel very unhappy about it. I have never met her but from what I have heard and read in the newspapers it is very unfortunate that we should lose such a senior consultant with such an experience. Any other communication outside this should be directed to the minister or commissioner,” he stated.
TO BE CONTINUED