A Poetic Cry for Justice, Recognition, and a Long-Awaited Response:The Police Retired Officers Forum of Nigeria, PROF.

MY FATHER IS DUMB

A Poetic Cry for Justice, Recognition, and a Long-Awaited Response

My Father is dumb!

Yes, my Father is dumb,
Not because his tongue has lost its power,
Not because his voice has been buried beneath the earth,
Nor because he has forgotten how to speak,
But because I have cried and cried,
Yet no answer has come from his throne.

My Father, can you hear me?
Can you hear the trembling voices of your children?
Can you hear the men who stood in the rain,
Who walked through fire in the service of their fatherland,
Who confronted danger when others fled,
Who defended the innocent against the cruel hands of death,
And who gave their youthful strength to the security of our nation?

My Father, I am speaking of the police,
The men and women of the Nigeria Police Force,
Those who wore the uniform with honour,
Those who carried the burden of law and order,
Those who stood between the nation and its enemies,
Those whose blood are often used to water the soil of national peace !

Today, we are asking for our TOTAL EXIT
From the Contributory Pension Scheme of PENCOM.
We are not begging for stolen treasures,
We are not demanding the wealth of another man,
We are not stretching our hands in greed,
We are asking for justice,
For fairness,
For dignity after years of service,
And for a retirement that does not become
A sentence of endless anxiety.

Yet, my Father is dumb!

The Police Retired Officers Forum of Nigeria,
PROF, has raised its voice.
It has spoken boldly,
It has written persistently,
It has appealed through every available channel,
It has deployed the instruments of persuasion,
It has knocked on the doors of authority,
And it has called upon the conscience of leadership.

We have pleaded with reason.
We have appealed with facts.
We have presented our case with courage.
We have sought dialogue instead of discord,
Understanding instead of confrontation,
And a willing hand instead of a clenched fist.

But, alas!

The echo of our voices returns to us,
Like a lonely traveller shouting across a deserted valley.
Our words rise towards the heavens of authority,
Only to descend upon the cold ground of silence. I weep, ooh I weep !

My Father is dumb!

Or perhaps, my Father,
You have heard me but chosen not to answer.
Perhaps the papers have reached your table,
But the urgency has not reached your heart.
Perhaps our cries have entered the corridors of power,
But have not crossed the threshold of your conscience.

Tell me, my Father,
How long must a child cry before a father responds?
How many letters must be written
Before one decisive instruction is given?
How many appeals must travel from office to office
Before justice finds its rightful destination?

Must the retired policeman,
Who once pursued criminals through darkened streets,
Now pursue his own entitlements through endless corridors?
Must the man who protected the lives of others
Spend his retirement struggling to protect his own dignity?

Must a uniform that once commanded respect
Become a memory beneath the weight of neglect?

My Father, answer me!

I am not asking you to empty the national treasury.
I am not asking you to enrich me beyond my entitlement.
I am not asking you to reward greed with gold.
I am asking you to listen to a legitimate demand,
To examine the case with an open mind,
And to direct the urgent and immediate action
That this matter deserves.

For justice delayed has a painful voice,
And the hunger of an ignored pensioner
Can speak louder than the drums of celebration.

My Father, I still believe in you!

Though your silence wounds me,
Though your delay tests my patience,
Though your response remains hidden from my eyes,
I refuse to surrender to despair.

I will not relent!

I will ask again tomorrow,
And if tomorrow brings no answer,
I will ask again the next day.
I will write when the ink is fading,
I will speak when my voice is weary,
And I will stand when my knees are tired.

For the truth does not become false
Because authority refuses to acknowledge it.
A legitimate demand does not become greed
Because its fulfilment has been delayed.
And the cry of a faithful child
Does not become an offence
Because it disturbs the silence of the palace.

Perhaps, my Father,
You are testing my faith in you.
Perhaps you are measuring the depth of my patience,
Testing whether my conviction is rooted in truth
Or merely planted in the soil of convenience.

If this is a test,
Then let history record my answer:

I SHALL NOT GIVE UP!

I shall not abandon the cause
Because the road is long.
I shall not betray my colleagues
Because the gate is locked.
I shall not exchange conviction for comfort,
Nor trade the collective interest of retired officers
For the temporary peace of keeping silent.

I am a son who still believes
That a father can hear the cry of his child.
I am a retired police officer
Who still believes that justice must wear a uniform
Even when the uniform has been laid aside.

I am a servant of the people
Who refuses to believe
That service must end in humiliation.

And so, my Father, I ask again:

ASSENT TO OUR REQUEST!

DIRECT THE NECESSARY ACTION!

LET THE TOTAL EXIT OF MEMBERS OF THE NIGERIA POLICE FORCE FROM THE CONTRIBUTORY PENSION SCHEME RECEIVE THE URGENT AND SERIOUS ATTENTION IT DESERVES!

Let the appropriate authorities act.
Let the necessary decisions be taken.
Let the machinery of government move without needless delay.
Let the retired officers see evidence
That their years of sacrifice have not been forgotten.

My Father, I am still calling you!

I will not curse you.
I will not deny our relationship.
I will not pretend that your silence
Has erased the bond between us.

No!

YOU ARE STILL MY FATHER!

And because you are my Father,
I will continue to knock.
Because you are my Father,
I will continue to ask.
Because you are my Father,
I will continue to hope.
Because you are my Father,
I will continue to believe
That one day, your silence will break,
Your voice will thunder across the land,
And your decisive instruction will turn
Our long season of waiting
Into a new season of relief.

Until that day,
Let nobody mistake my persistence for weakness,
My patience for surrender,
Or my respect for fear.

I am still here, my Father!
The cause is still alive.
The demand is still legitimate.
The voices are still united.
And the hope of justice still burns.

MY FATHER IS DUMB!

But I will keep speaking.

MY FATHER IS SILENT!

But I will keep knocking.

MY FATHER HAS NOT ANSWERED!

But I will keep asking.

For I believe that silence is not always the final word,
Delay is not always the end of the journey,
And even the longest night must eventually
Make room for the morning sun.

My Father, hear me at last!

Let the retired police officer retire with dignity.
Let the years of service receive fair consideration.
Let the demand for total exit from PENCOM
Be met with a clear, decisive, and timely response.

And when the day of justice finally comes,
When the burden is lifted from weary shoulders,
When the long-awaited decision is announced,
Let the world remember
That we did not win by abandoning our cause,
But by holding firmly to our conviction.

Until then, my Father,
I remain your son—
Unbroken in spirit,
Unshaken in purpose,
Unrelenting in my demand,
And unwavering in my faith.

For no matter how long you remain silent,
No matter how far away your answer seems,
No matter how many times my voice returns unanswered—

YOU ARE STILL MY FATHER.

And I shall continue to call you
Until you answer!

THE FINAL WORD

A father’s silence may test his child’s patience,
But it cannot extinguish the child’s hope.
A leader’s delay may prolong a people’s suffering,
But it cannot make a legitimate demand illegitimate.
And the voice of justice, though ignored today,
May yet become the defining testimony of tomorrow.

MY FATHER IS DUMB—
BUT HIS CHILD WILL NOT BE SILENCED!

By Dr ENYI Nnaemezie Ignatius, MSc, MBA, SP (Rtd), JP, MNIM