As a nation, in this moment of loss, we are called upon to challenge our courage, not to tremble at the sight of his final departure, daring resilience to fight back trickling tears. In the breasts of ordinary men, the thump of fast-rushing blood signals not fear but anxiety, giving way not to sweat but slow pulses and chilled palms. Is there not wonderment at a natural act even juveniles are expected to comprehend?

In the dawn of this golden Monday morn, imitating true ancestral fashion, he shall be borne aloft to be reunited with previously departed elders. Cherished shall ever be the rich pageantry and collective wisdom of our oral African tradition. Today there shall be excused the beat of distant drums and the joyful chant of youthful voices combined in reverent chorus - for such is the ceremony of a last farewell. Christian soldiers we shall forever be.

On the lips of every citizen shall be whispered our national anthem to the melody of military brass timed by the slow march of the soldier’s polished boot. This is a last herald to a native son gone but not forgotten. To his political opponents seasoned in camaraderie and slanting rhetoric, polemic there shall no more be. Not again to be bantered the combative word or paraded vindictive gestures. The past is but an image etched in the mind’s eye of his friends, as shall his wayward manners be.

Hugh Desmond Hoyte, no more a constitutionalist - his seat in Parliament deserted, yet his contribution to its electric atmosphere shall be remembered as part of that ambience whose fragrance continues. We must at all times be reminded that for those who devise visions among its members, death is but a milestone in civilised political controversy, converted valiantly into the double edge of satire, raised in silent voice loud enough to mock in tones intended to taunt.

At last post our nation mourns. The burning feeling inside so strong the Golden Arrowhead threatens to stand still, refusing a flutter, imitating the slow march of a fallen soldier. Here is an eloquent gesture born of dignified struggle, of hopes for better days albeit shrouded in the satin of uncertainty.