I’m writing from the dark. I have nowhere to go. How did I get into the dark? I lost three persons I had a relationship with to the icy hands of death. The first, ‘Delerado’ or ‘HELROD,’ was more than just a big brother; he was also a close friend and confidant. The second, Prof. Siyan Oyeweso, was a mentor from afar who contributed to my reports and whom I intended to see but never did. The third, SOJ, was a senior colleague and past chairman of an association for which I was the PRO.
The deaths of these wonderful men devastated me. I sat down and evaluated these people’s lives, including the tributes I’d read. One thing stood out: humility. The trio were men of humility. After the tragic deaths of my loving mother and her mother—my grandmother—I never imagined there would be a day when I would experience any significant loss.
The tragic irony is that it all happened within a month, but one died inside my car as I drove quickly to Wesley Guild Hospital. He was declared dead upon arrival. Though his body has been buried, I continue to keep his memories in my heart. I also drive his soul everywhere. My mind has darkened as a result of my huge loss.
My heart feels heavy. My fingertips are hurting. My legs are rarely unusually tight. I want to cry, but I can’t. I command my eyes to cry, but they have no tears left. A friend informed me that I needed to cry. I understand that crying helps when you are grieving. It is not just an emotional workout. It is a way to liberation when you are also grieving. Memories of these magnificent individuals continue to haunt me.
‘Delerado’ or ‘HELROD’ was the epitome of humility. When he was alive, he had a little palace. He was not flawless, but he was an exceptional man in his own right. He led a humble existence. He associates freely. He also had a freewheeling lifestyle. There was nothing you could do to him that he wouldn’t forgive. In his highs and lows, two qualities distinguish him from ordinary men: humility and the ability to forgive easily. He was not a saint. He does not attend church, but he does pray every morning. The good tree in the forest of evil is no more.
There were several occurrences that made me appreciate or admire ‘Delerado,’ but one in particular stood out. His younger sibling passed away. The death was painful. He spent more than six months switching from one hospital to another. He felt more than just pain. He was not correctly diagnosed too. Despite all efforts, he died. Delerado would go to work and send all of his earnings to his younger brother’s immediate family before finally relocating to the hospital.
After his younger brother died, his mother spent more than a month in his home. During this trying time, a street brother pleaded to be housed for two days. He couldn’t say no. This brother spent five weeks. He fed and clothed him together with his mother and three children. A broke man who buried his brother in cold blood but never complained or used it as an excuse to refuse to aid those in need. I assumed the aforementioned individual was his blood brother, but I later discovered that he was only a casual friend.
I went to ‘Delerado’ on a Saturday evening. He just returned from work. I sat in his sitting room while he was on the phone, asking his friend to pay his service fee because he was broke. The friend informed him that he had sent the money. When he checked his account balance, it was empty. He examined his transaction history and discovered that the money had been deposited into his account but then transferred to a betting account. He was tracing the said betting account when his guest arrived. The guest requested that he wanted to see him privately. He told him that he had used the money to play aviator and lost. ‘Delerado’ felt disappointed but he never got angry. He was a very patient and considerate man. What a dude!
I was still reeling over Delerado’s death when I caught a glimpse of a WhatsApp status concerning Prof. Siyan Oyeweso. I labeled it as bogus or misleading news. I remembered asking the poster to delete it because it is not genuine. It was only five minutes later that I started seeing it in WhatsApp groups. I called Jare Tiamiyu, CEO of InsightMediaLinks and founder of Insight Initiatives, for confirmation. He was one of Prof. Siyan Oyeweso’s mentees that I was familiar with. He confirmed the death with a shaky narration.
Prof. Siyan Oyeweso was a unique figure in the academic sphere. He died as a Professor, the highest academic position, but he relates to everyone – the poor, the wealthy, the well-connected, the literate, the illiterate, and the disadvantaged. He was approachable, accommodating, and humble. I’ve never interacted with a professor as humble as Siyan Oyeweso. I had never met him in person, but we had planned to meet.
I was working on a series of papers about the River Osun deity and Susan Wenger, an Austrian-born artist and white priestess, when I contacted Prof. Siyan Oyeweso. I never expected him to agree to a phone interview lasting more than an hour. We made no mention of his contributions, and he never became furious. His only comment was: “It’s always about the culture, tradition, and knowledge.” He was undeniably knowledgeable.
He has a vast knowledge of history. I matched what he said to my notes and observations, and there were no differences. He was precise with specifics such as dates and locations. The first time we chatted, the conversation ended abruptly. I attempted to contact him multiple times, but his phone was unreachable. I figured he was busy and couldn’t answer the phone at the moment.
Two days later, a missed call appeared in my phone’s notification bar. Prof. Siyan had called, but I missed it. Ha! What a disaster! I didn’t answer the phone when a historian called. Can I get a call back? Will he pick my call? These were the questions running through my thoughts. I once missed a call from an associate professor, who chastised me for missing his call. He even questioned my work ethics, but Oyeweso was different. I returned his call, and he picked it up. I hope you’re not angry about the previous incident. He posed an innocent question.
Before I could respond, he revealed that his phone had fallen while he was talking to me and broken. “I needed a new phone, and by the time I obtained one, circumstances had taken precedence over our conversation. “I decided to call to explain the situation, and please do not be offended,” he added. I was perplexed. I had to validate the digits to ensure I was chatting with the revered Prof. Siyan Oyeweso, an Ede-born academic guru who established himself as a school of right education and humility. We spoke for a few minutes, and I requested a meet and greet, which he gladly agreed to, but we never met.
Prof. Siyan Oyeweso taught me a lesson that day. You may succeed while remaining modest. The entire Nigerian academic community was mourning the death of Prof. Siyan Oyeweso when Elisha Olusoji Omosebi was called to glory as well. The sad irony is that Omosebi, also known as SOJ Worldwide, reported the tale of Prof. Siyan’s death and was appalled by the tragic scenario. During our conversation, he stated that a big disaster has struck Ede, Osun, and Nigeria in general.
SOJ Worldwide was grieving, but he had no idea the grim reaper was waiting for his turn. He gave me his final hug on Thursday, during Osun Digital Week. I could see from his expression that he was upset about missing the occasion. I quietly urged him, “Daddy, please rest very well.” He was the chairman of the planning committee. He left his resting place and attended the celebration. He was deeply committed to the organization. He did not wait to enjoy the fruits of OOPA he labored for.
Death is too callous. O death, where is thy sting? You just killed a dear Siyan and then took a grieving one. Oku, sunkun Oku. SOJ was an extremely hardworking journalist and valuable team member. He was a man of commitment. He always has a strong opinion about whatever cause he believes in. He has a strong belief in technology, digital media, and internet journalism. He was a founding member and strong backbone of the Osun Online Publishers Association. He was a senior coworker and very old, but I admired his work ethic.
I’d wake up in the middle of the night to find SOJ working on a report or his dashboard. The financial expert who graciously retired from Fidelity Bank was a tremendous asset to the media sector. He has made significant contributions to the expansion of digital and online media in Osun. He previously served as secretary, chairman, key stakeholder, and member of the Board of Trustees of the state’s first digital and online media association. He took the final bow in glory.
I went on a frigid trek to Igbo Ifeyinti, the woodland of’rest’. I took three sacred gourds, hoping that one of them would work. I went there to find the bodies of these wonderful men. I didn’t discover them. Asobode informed me that they had gone to paradise and entered the grand hall of our forefathers.
He took the three gourds from me and invited me to look into the calabash of eternity, where I saw our great men in white, dining and winning alongside our ancestors. I saw SOJ; I’m still a member of OOPA, he said. I saw Professor Siyan, and I am still a member of the Ede Descendants Union. I saw Delerado, and I am still with you.
I requested permission from Asobode to join them, but he refused. ‘Your time is not now. He said, “When the time comes, you’ll pass.” These great men deserve to rest. They have worked so hard, so brilliantly, and so efficiently that they need to rest. A good life is measured in terms of impacts rather than numbers. Eternal repose is ensured. These losses are enormous, serious, and heartbreaking. It’s a sad goodbye for others. For me, it’s three bad byes. I’m sad. Who will help me?
I rest my pen!
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