Many Rivers Still To Cross: A Farewell to Jimmy Cliff -By Patrick Iwelunmor

There are artists who merely pass through the world, and there are those who reshape the emotional architecture of the world with nothing more than the truth in their voices. Jimmy Cliff, born on 30 July 1944 and departing this earthly stage on 24 November 2025, belonged unmistakably to the latter breed. He sang as one who had tasted sorrow yet refused to be conquered by it. His melodies were balms for the bruised, lanterns for the drifting, and a quiet rebellion against the temptations of despair. As the world bids farewell to this Jamaican icon, one returns instinctively to the metaphor that became both his burden and his blessing: the haunting refrain that he still had many rivers to cross.

Those rivers, of course, were never literal. They represented the stubborn trials of the human adventure, the ceaseless turbulence that attends our passage through life. Cliff voiced them as a man acquainted with hardship, yet equally familiar with the resilience that urges the weary to press forward. Today, when humanity surveys the state of the world, that metaphor carries an even more solemn resonance. The rivers have grown wider, the currents quicker, the waters darker.

Across continents, crises multiply with merciless consistency. The war in Ukraine grinds on, each month writing new chapters of grief and dislocation. Families drift across borders with memory as their only luggage. Cities echo with the hollow sounds of loss. In the African Sahel, instability has settled into the routine of daily life. Communities face the twin predations of insurgency and poverty, while state authority thins like morning mist. In the Middle East, generations continue to inherit conflicts they did not start, nursing wounds that history itself struggles to contain. The world feels heavy, almost overburdened, as though the very air is thick with unresolved sorrow.

Yet Cliff anticipated this rhythm long before it became our global reality. His music offered no illusions about the nature of struggle. Instead, it invited listeners to confront it with clarity, humility and courage. Life, he insisted, does not reward the fainthearted. To cross a river is not merely to endure its coldness but to dare the possibility that the other side holds something better. It is this insistence on pressing forward that gave his songs their peculiar magic. They were worn and weary, yet unbroken. They acknowledged the heaviness of the world while defending the right to hope.

This posture becomes even more poignant when viewed through the lens of national experiences such as Nigeria’s. Few nations today face as many simultaneous challenges. Insecurity has become a persistent shadow in many communities. Parents dispatch their children to school with more prayers than assurance. Farmers tend their fields under the anxiety of unspoken threats. Entire regions measure their days by the fragile peace that hangs by a thread. It often feels as though Nigeria’s rivers multiply faster than they can be crossed.

Yet like the rivers Jimmy Cliff sang about with such aching clarity, none of these challenges is destined to become a permanent barrier. Rivers, by their very nature, demand crossing. They test resolve but do not forbid movement. The belief that Nigeria can still navigate its way out of this labyrinth of insecurity and economic strain remains a crucial national resource. Hope may feel fragile, but it is the reason nations survive. The conviction that tomorrow can be better is, in itself, a form of strength.

And so, as we lower the curtains on the life of one who gave the world so much tenderness, it becomes important to revisit the deeper wisdom in his art. Cliff never suggested that the journey would be easy. His music was not a denial of suffering but a refusal to let suffering deliver the final verdict. He taught that hope is not a decorative sentiment meant for placid times. It is a discipline, a labour, a daily renewal of spirit in the face of harsh reality. To stay alive, to stay strong, to continue the journey even when one’s feet ache from earlier crossings, is itself a species of triumph.

In this sense, Jimmy Cliff does not merely leave behind a catalogue of unforgettable songs. He leaves a philosophy, a gentle manual for navigating the world at its most difficult. His voice reminds us that the human story has always been shaped by the tension between suffering and resilience. The rivers we face today may overwhelm us, just as they overwhelmed those before us, but history shows that none is unconquerable. Humanity has crossed countless rivers, and it will cross countless more.

As the world pauses to honour this remarkable life, that iconic line returns, echoing softly yet insistently across time. Many rivers still to cross. And still, the journey continues.