Perhaps, I could sum up courage to drop this about a great friend, brother and comrade. The shock of your death has silenced me so much, my silent weeping, my reflections on how I used to see you most mornings jogging on our road – Eligbolo, sometimes on your way back but lost that scene due to my relocation, but fate still brought us together as we met once in a while at Kisi Trust Meetings.
That was not all, the second to last meeting, you surprised me as usual, flagging a taxi to carry both of us, yet you did that just to assist me as you dropped less than three poles away from the take-off point. My last sign of you was when you startled me by Ohaeto curve. When we exchanged pleasantries, you said you were going to see some friends and immediately, I reminiscence you were going to see your friends under that canopy. Then I asked you greet Ivano for me.
As it were, I would call you ‘Senior Bros! Your early morning text and short poems still flow through my inner eyes that if I were you, I could recite them over and over but I’m not a poet to do so. As a young activist, you talked me into environmental activism. You gave me a present- a book written by Ken Saro-Wiwa– A Month and A Day, which opened my eyes to what my late mother told me about Ken Saro-Wiwa’s travails. Netways Business Center by Ohaeto became a rendezvous center for me and work because I was sure of seeing you and hearing about Ogoni and what needs to be done.
When I was invited by the MOSOP leadership after my work with the EU, I embraced it just to push on what you told me was lacking in the struggle. Big Bros, I never knew we were close until I had the first shock that destroyed my reproductive nerves. I miss your voice which snaps greetings at me,” how na?’ I can still imagine you resting your hand on my shoulder when talking to me because of your height, then would I raise my heels in defence of my height.
You were down to earth and full of smiles and encouragement. Goodbye but your legacies remain deep in my heart and for those that understood your cause.
By Martha Agbani, Port Harcourt