When God Sends a Teacher

Ajulo David

Biography: Ajulo, David Olufemi is a multifaceted professional whose career and passions span technology, literature, business, and agriculture. Trained as a Telecom Engineer, he has built a solid reputation in the world of communication technologies, ensuring innovative solutions that connect people and empower industries. Beyond engineering, Olufemi is an internationally recognized Sales Professional, celebrated for his outstanding ability to build relationships, inspire trust, and deliver results across diverse markets. His creative spirit finds expression in revolutionary poetry, where his words resonate deeply with audiences, weaving themes of humanity, egaliatrian society, resilience, and the beauty of existence. As a passionate poultry farmer, Olufemi demonstrates his belief in self-sufficiency and sustainable living, nurturing not only livestock but also a philosophy of responsibility and care for the earth. At his core, Olufemi is a lover of nature and all that is good to behold. Whether through professional excellence, poetic insight, or his agricultural endeavors, he embodies a rare balance of intellect, creativity, and a profound appreciation for life’s simple yet profound wonders.

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Ajulo David

Sunday 5 October 2025

When God Sends a Teacher

_By AJ, the Teacher’s Son_

When God would mend a broken nation,

He births a soul for education.

Not crowned in gold nor draped in might,

But clothed in patience, armed with light.

They walk through storms with steady grace,

A gentle fire lights their face.

They teach in huts, they teach in halls,

They answer destiny’s quiet calls.

They say your reward lies far above,

In heaven’s arms of endless love.

Yet earth denied you comfort’s share,

You taught through hunger, dust, and care.

Still, you pressed on, with heart aflame,

No thirst for power, no crave for fame.

You forged ahead with holy fire,

Each word you spoke made minds aspire.

You’d split your brain if that would show,

A dullard’s mind the way to glow.

You plant your soul in others’ clay,

And die a bit with every day.

My father — aye, a saint of chalk,

Whose words could tame the wildest talk.

When he flogged, he flogged with cause,

Then taught the mercy behind the laws.

He was faultless, fair, and fierce with truth,

He built in men the roots of youth.

He’d scold, then smile — a tender art,

A master craftsman of the heart.

And lo, my matriarch — age ninety-one,

Still teaching lessons, her race not done.

Her chalk may break, her hands may shake,

But not her will, for wisdom’s sake.

She says, “To die a teacher’s fine,

For teaching’s breath is half divine.”

In every wrinkle, time has penned,

The stories of the minds she’s mend.

Even Fate, that unseen preacher,

Is but another cosmic teacher.

It tests, it bends, it makes us see,

The shape of what we’re meant to be.

For teaching is not craft alone,

It’s chiseling flesh into living stone.

It’s catching dreams before they fall,

It’s answering destiny’s quiet call.

Oh teacher! Prophet of the pen,

You build the world again and again.

Kings you’ve raised, yet none may know,

The garden where their wisdom grow.

Your chalk may fade, your books decay,

But truth you sow will never stray.

Your voice — though stilled — still softly hums,

In every mind your spirit drums.

So here’s to you, the unsung sage,

The keeper of tomorrow’s page.

Though heaven holds your lasting pay,

We bless you here — this Teachers’ Day.

*AJ*

_A poet and humanist of international renown!_

05/10/2025

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