Last weekend found me in Ondo town for the funeral of a friend. People close to me know I do not like to travel, so it was not an easy decision to make. But I felt a compelling urge to pay my last respects to someone I had been friends with for over four decades. Olu Akinmurele, the Olotu Omo Oba of the Ondo Kingdom, and I had done many things together over the years. I felt it was fitting to be there as he embarked on his final journey. The ceremony was a simple but well attended affair befitting a simple but generous soul whose weakness was in finding it difficult to say no to people but whose strength was his loyalty and commitment to friendships. And as the hall filled, my mind went through different scenes. I thought of the things we did together over the years. I thought of the times when we were young and daring. For reasons I can’t explain, I went back in time to our two week stay at Westbourne Terrace, UK in 1982. Three of us went to ‘wash’ his new apartment and we had fun, dipping our hands into the same bowl as we enjoyed Nigerian delicacies almost every night. Olu was basically a simple and decent man with a generous heart.

Four days before I was to take off from Lagos with Dr. Tayo Fawehinmi, his close friend and confidant, I learnt of the death of Mr. Mac Obviagele, the brother-in-law of Helen Obviagele who was the pioneer Woman Editor of Vanguard Newspapers. A consummate communicator, and a hard core advertising practitioner whose Agency was among the best of his era, he was about the closest friend to my brother at a time. I was actually speaking to my brother on the Sunday evening when a persistent call interrupted our conversation. It was for a reason and the message was short and crisp. Mac Obviagele had died that morning. I had to deal with the shock of the news. I also had to deal with how to break the news to my brother. Through my brother, I had learnt that Mr. Obviagele had gone abroad for medical reasons. He was probably one of the very few able to speak to him while he was away. So I knew the news would hit him hard. But Mac Ovbiagele had become a senior brother to me as well. I remember him urging me in the late 70s, to get married early so I could see my kids grow and it was to him – among a few others- I went to seek professional advice when I wanted to veer into entrepreneurial life. His recent but enduring wish was to have us play golf together. That had been the song on his lips for the last ten, fifteen years. It was a wish that has now been denied by death.

Monday morning found me at his place to give my condolences and in the evening of Tuesday, I called my brother to intimate him about my visit. That was when he released another bombshell. Yinka Alakija, known to many, especially in the music world and fellow Old Boys of St Gregory College, as Allakay had just died. Alakija was one of the enduring heartbeats of highlife music in Lagos and of ‘Music Minds’, a platform he co-founded for music lovers and those in the Performing Arts in general. His death caught many, including me, who had read his many posts just hours before his death, by surprise. I was to collect a CD from him – one of many over the years- which will now never be. He will be missed by many for his music especially his fidelity to highlife music, and by his close friends for his humour and mischief. A scion of the famous Sir Adeyemo Alakija, it was in line with his simple, but idiosyncratic lifestyle, that he gave instructions to be interred within hours of his death. In between all these, I finally summoned the courage to call Otunba Remi Abdul whose wife had just been buried. It was in many ways, a week of dealing with grief in its varying forms.

Coincidentally, last weekend made it exactly eighty years since the death of a certain Priest called Father Delph. He was wrongly implicated in the failed assassination attempt on Hitler, a year earlier and paid dearly with his life. A note was allegedly found in his prison room. It said ‘If through one man’s life can be found a little more love and kindness, a little more light into the world, then he would not have lived in vain’. What I choose to read into this little note during this period of grief for me – and for others- is the import of a purpose driven life. Like little green bottles on the shelf, we would all drop off one after the other. But what would be said of us at our death and shortly after? With the exception of Nana, Remi Abdul’s wife who was slightly over 70, none of the others I mentioned was less than 78. Having surpassed the biblical three scores and ten years, they were not too young to die – it is our closeness to them which makes the loss more personal. Their legacy is now left for posterity to assess. The bell no longer tolls for them. But it will certainly toll for us sooner than later. It is therefore, never too late – until it is too late- for introspection. How are we living our lives? Is ours, a life of greed and material acquisition? Is it one of cruelty and self-gratification? Or is it a life that seeks to inject more love and kindness; more light into the world? Is it a life for others? Have we used the talents and the opportunities we have to make our society and the world by extension, a better place?

Finally, that same weekend was also forty days after Christmas. According to the Jewish tradition, the first male child would be presented to the temple on the 40th day of his birth with the sacrifice of a ram or turtle doves by the parents. This was what the parent of Jesus Christ did over two thousand years ago. In commemoration of the day, the Presentation of Christ which symbolically marks the end of Christmas, is usually preceded in some churches with a candle lit procession. A candle gives light to others. More poignantly, it sacrifices itself to do so. Let all of us, especially those in leadership positions, think deeply about this. Life, to be meaningful and impactful, involves sacrifices in different forms. It should not, and cannot be just about self.

May the souls of all the faithful departed through the mercy of God, Rest In Peace. Amen.

•Muyiwa Adetiba is a veteran journalist and publisher. He can be reached via titbits2012@yahoo.com

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