The phone rang insistently. I ignored it as I normally do when I am in the bathroom. I have learnt from other people’s experiences that it is better to get a missed call than to get an accident. Then a thought occurred to me that whoever was calling at 8am either didn’t know my routine or it was very important. This thought made me hurry up. But it had rung out. It was my sister-in-law. I wasn’t surprised at her calling – we have that kind of relationship. But the timing suggested she had probably tried to reach her sister to pass on an important message. That would be consistent as I had been such a conduit over the years. I was however totally unprepared for what happened next. A sobbing, broken voice on the other end told me her youngest daughter just passed on that morning. It was a thunderbolt and my scream was an involuntary reaction to it. It was now my duty to pass the very unpleasant news to my wife who had gone to church and a morning walk. I was, in the interim, alone with my thoughts. How could deth be so cruel? At 41, this young lady had everything to live for; a good job she loved so much which gave her the latitude to travel; a successful but doting husband with whom she shared a beautiful apartment in perhaps the most exclusive part of Lagos; and most important, an adorable set of twins that lit up their world. The last time I saw her was with her young family at a family Christmas lunch during which she regaled us with the escapades of her now inquisitive twins. There was no sign of illness that I could tell. In fact, her trip to Abuja where her parents live was work related. As I lay alone on my bed, I couldn’t help thinking of the twins one of whom I had the pleasure of carrying in my arms at the Christmas lunch. Or of the quiet but extremely polite husband. How would they cope? My prayerful thoughts also went to her siblings and her parents who must have been devastated at the news – theirs is a closely-knit family. Then I thought of my daughter with whom she shared many things of their youthful past and obviously hoped to share things of their adult future – they had for example, concluded plans to travel together in April. O death, where is your sting?

I have always known about the unpredictability of life and how an incident or even a short phone call can change many things. This was yet another example of that. Trance like, my wife went for a briefcase on hearing the news. Her immediate focus was to be with her sister. All other plans or activities no longer mattered. How quickly could she get to the airport? When was the earliest flight? Those were now the questions. The day was also ruined for me as I simply went through the motions. A childhood friend was celebrating a landmark birthday the following day Saturday, and I was looking forward to it. With what happened, I suddenly realized I was not up to it. Knowing I would be expected, I quickly sent a message to explain my likely absence. Come Saturday which happened to be the day of the marathon organized yearly by Access Bank, I was alone with my phone and my thoughts. I love marathons and my children had taken part in a couple abroad. But this year, I was listless. To make matters worse, the news of the tragic death of the CEO of Access Bank filtered in towards the end of the day. Herbert Wigwe, the man who virtually lived in the air, had to die of a plane crash from a short, barely three-hour trip. The irony of life. His was a life of impact however. His humanitarian and nationalistic role during the Covid19 pandemic would always be remembered. So will his philanthropic activities. As an aside though, it is an irony that CEO of banks have become routinely wealthy while the industries they are supposed to service have virtually disappeared. Something must be dysfunctional about a system where this happens. Another irony is that life was taken from a CEO on the day his company sponsored activity which was organized to promote life and vitality was taking place. Incidentally, the last time I saw Herbert Wigwe was at the funeral service of another executive of Access Bank in late January. There was nothing to suggest he would be gone within three weeks. In his tribute at the service of songs, he talked about how he had worked closely with this executive for ten years and how sorely he would be missed. Now, they have the chance of meeting in the world beyond and maybe collaborating on heavenly projects. As it happened, my two close encounters with Wigwe to discuss a project he was interested in, were at the instance of this executive who was a favoured aburo. Abdul Imoyo’s death was also sudden and took many of us by surprise. Speaking of marathons and sudden deaths, the dark weekend was completed by the death of a renowned marathoner. World Champion and record holder Kelvin Kiptum died of another kind of crash - a car crash- at 23. He had the world at his gangling feet and could have gone on to win more laurels. May their souls and the souls of all the faithful departed through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen.

What happened last weekend brings up the lesson in the story of an old lady who sat quietly in a bus while a fumbling young lady badged into her with her many bags. When asked why the old lady didn’t react at all, she replied ‘our journey together is too short to bother about such things’. It is a message we need to take to heart for we are all ‘here today and gone tomorrow’. Let’s eschew pettiness and frivolity. The journey is indeed short. Ash Wednesday which we marked a couple of days ago reminded us that ‘dust we were, dust we shall become’. All the four people I mentioned directly or tangentially in this article had every reason to live. They were young, successful with an even more promising future. Yet death took them away so suddenly that they didn’t even have time to bid goodbye to loved ones let alone bequeath anything. The vanity of life indeed, but we can’t all stop striving, can we?

I will leave with some words in Psalm 90 which were said to have been recently quoted by Wigwe: ‘Lord, teach us to number our days so we can apply our hearts to wisdom’.

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