(To Prof Olufemi Peters, immediate past VC of NOUN)
He took the pot while the clay was still wet,
When many feared the kiln,
When the fire of expectation raged
And the wheel of time spun without mercy.
He did not drop it.
He did not crack it.
He did not trade strength for speed,
Nor applause for purpose.
With steady hands and disciplined sight,
He turned the wheel with wisdom,
Letting patience shape what haste could not.
Thus, the pot endured the fire—
Whole, useful, and beautiful.
O Peters, son of resolve,
You entered when the walls were thin
And the weight of the vessel uncertain;
You exited with the rim intact,
The base firm,
And the contents preserved for generations.
Not every leader finishes.
Not every finisher finishes well.
But you finished gloriously.
Without fracture,
Without scandal,
Without regret.
You carried NOUN
As one carries a sacred calabash:
Eyes forward, steps measured,
Heart anchored in duty.
When storms came, you tightened your grip.
When praise came, you tightened your discipline.
Thus, the pot did not slip.
Today, we do not mourn an ending;
We celebrate a delivery. The handing over of an unbroken pot
To time, to history, to posterity.
May the kiln remember your name.
May the wheel bear witness to your steadiness.
May those who hold the pot after you
Know that integrity kept it whole.
Hail, Professor Olufemi Peters.
He who finished,
And finished well.
By an Anonymous Dean of a NOUN Faculty
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