THE MAN DIED (Tribute to my Late Friend, Sani Rabi'u Alhassan Kunchi)

I was on the football field for my normal morning training before reporting to work. I was jogging when a friend handed his phone to me that my friend wanted to talk to me. I was mad as to why didn't he wait until I finish training. "Where did you keep your phone?" He asked on the other end because he has been trying to reach out to me. I asked what the matter of urgency was and he replied, "Sani is dead!" I was paralyzed and dumbfounded.

Earlier today, I took a gander into some past experiences regarding one of my closest friends who passed away in November 2023 in what seemed, in the words of his mother as "mysterious illness". I'll come back to that in a moment. His death still strikes me as fresh as a morning sunrise. It's a devastating experience I'll live and die with. I still fine it difficult to summon the courage to delete his number from my phone even though it's still of no use. I still have our voice chat in my archive where I listen to keep the memory fresh.

He was a friend who died in his mid thirties, leaving behind an eigth months beautiful pregnant wife and a handsome young boy. The new baby boy was later named after him. And they resembled! Right before he died, even though he didn't foresaw himself dying that early years, but all his attention and plans were of his wife's pregnancy and seeing his baby. Death is surely inevitable. The queue is still moving, leaving everybody with no option but to prepare for it. That's inevitability of the law of nature.

Talking about the mystery behind his death, he was a person that despised hospital just like the way you find it difficult to convince degenerated person to go for proper medical treatment. He hardly goes to hospital unless it became too unbearable. He assumed to have ulcer and with long history of usual caught and he spit as though he ate cola nut. He was then diagnosed with a serious BP complications and was later started getting sick off and on. Even at this, he would sometimes lied of seeing a medical doctor but collected herbs from Islamic chemist.

In Africa, we are so kin in believing on superstition and witchcraft, this is why we always blame family and friends when business is not flourishing or not getting better posting or getting sacked from workplace or being too sick all these but to mention few. Even though it was clearly written on the wall he was sick and being eaten from the inside everyday and different medical professionals said there were certain results of diagnosis but he didn't agree or believe them. He preferred traditional treatment and was convinced to be believe it should be so.

He loved sports, specifically football. He supported Manchester United throughout his days. He played football and was one of the players of the great local football team, Rimi youth. I can still remember a beautiful free kick he scored some years back at a Ramadan Cup in LEA Unguwan Rimi, Low-cost. I still remember how he celebrated and the uproar from the spectators. We trained together three times every week until sickness drained all his energy. That day, he couldn't train more than fifteen minutes and said he could not continue. That was his last football training.

He died with a dream like every other person. He wanted to join the paramilitary and he was close. Part of our discussion anytime I visited him was to treat himself well so that he could undergo the physical strenuous activities. That motivated him and kept him going. I still see him in his usual jallabiya which Kamal didn't want to see. Part of that dream was to provide enough for the family. He loved seeing his wife and child in comfort. He just loved her like she's the only lady on earth. He was wary on anything about her.

He was an extrovert. I don't think he had a secret of his own. Everything was a news and he was a king of update amongst our circle. He's luxurious. I can remember how he loved buying latest phones right from secondary school. That time he would buy Sony Erickson Java phones, then BlackBerries and iPhones. Nice dresses and food were part of his hobbies. Ah food indeed! His heavily build body was the reflection of his diet that's why people noticed his deepening sickness when he began to drop in weight drastically.

He might look miser as the normal behavior of a business man but he likes sharing benefiting information. Whenever something good comes, he'll call his friends and he's a good source of information and connections. You hardly request for information that he didn't know anybody to call, whether in civil service, business, sports etc. He was good in keeping contacts. He liked confrontation. You erred him, he threw it at your face. Simple. He listened to advice even if he's not going to use it.

Saying I was touched is understatement. I was there when he studied abroad. In fact, I was the one standing as mediator between him and his father for his pocket money and other things. I was the one entrusted with his feeding allowances. I was the first person he talked to when he wanted to start dating his wife. Both the  parents from two sides asked me for convenient and honest advice. I was there at every step in his wedding. I was there in most of his investments except crypto which I had no zero knowledge. He mostly came to my house late at night for a serious talk.

I believe he's now in a better place being proud of his wife for taking good care of his kids and for maintening her virtue. We'll continue to pray for the forgiveness of his shortcomings and for his kids to be better persons in life. One day, whether we like it or not, whether we prepare for it or not, we'll surely join you in the silent world where only deeds and actions speak. Adieu my friend.

MOURN THE DEATH; BURRY THE HATCHET (1)

I was carefully going through social media posts, comments and reactions since the death of former president Muhammadu Buhari due to what was reported as "brief illness" in a London hospital. The Nigerian social media space has become intensed as to how Nigerians receive his death—whether to forgive his shortcomings or not—or whether there are well meaning legacies to celebrate.

Before delving into that, let me say Buhari's demise would have immense impact on the 2027 general elections. Both ruling political party, APC and the erupted opposition, ADC have been anticipating to get Buhari's endorsement, to continue lurking in the remaining shadows of his fame and unconditional love by his supporters mainly the Hausa-Fulani core northerners.

It's been impeccably admirable seeing how Buhari keep persisting on presidential polls and had lost three bids until 2015 where he became an elected president to overthrow and incumbent president from a ruling party that had been in power for sixteen years. His passion to either "rule" over Nigerian affairs or "fix" the country's economy and insecurity spurn the unconditional love from his supporters.

The biggest question in his posthumous is to whether he has fulfilled his promises to fix Nigeria to attract the common man to mourn for him or not—or the explicit display of morality as to how death should be celebrated in respect to cultural and or religious affiliation. The latter instigated a wide range of opinion conflicts, seeing the axiomatic fact that only God can judge the death—not a living wandering soul.

As I pointed out in my Facebook post yesterday, the cartigories of people celebrating Buhari's death are either fanatics or religious bigots, ranging both from the southern part of the country or north. These are Nigerians who have negatively been brainwashed to how exactly humanity suppose to be and behave or react to social phenomenon. Let's explain this further.

Shi'aite blocked the route of Nigerian Chief of Army Staff and his envoy on their way to an official assignment. A very senior officer stepped down to plead for a few minutes passage but to no avail. COAS forced his way to what seemed a conflict and later resulted in death of scores of Shi'aites and concluded to the arrest of Zakzaky, the supreme leader of the sect. This marked to the halt of the Shi'aite movements in Zaria and across Nigeria.

E dey as e be. In the South West, the supposed "Leeki massacre" has cultivated a seemingly hatred to the person of Buhari during EndSars protest and in the aftermath, seeing him as anti-human rights and a dictator despite numerous infrastructural developments he brought to life in the region. Not to mention of renovation or Murtala Muhammad International Airport into international standard and lots more.

In a general term, Buhari, just like any other passed elected president or head of state has his achievements and shortcomings, but the major questions we can ask ourselves for adjudication are: 

i. Does Buhari's diversification of economy, border closure, tax reforms, subsidies, poverty alleviation programmes and increase in PMS has standardized the value of naira and stabilized the wellbeing of the citizens compared to how he met the system in 2015?

ii. Was the state of security both in south and north, consisting of IPOB, Boko Haram and banditry became a total history during transition in 2023 as he promised in 2014 campaigns?

Even though most Nigerians, especially from the northwest have been directly or indirectly affected by the insurgency which engulfed the region; not to mention of dilapidation or the economy and hardship, celebrating a stateman's death who had showed efforts but failed due to circumstances that overcome his administration is against humanity, culture and religion.

BEFORE AND AFTER

This is more or less a true story.

"Who are you?" Was what he asked me when he regained conscious from his hospital bed. Sitting on a sagged ironed chair beside him was me looking overwhelmingly tired from the sleepness night I had, checking on him every minute to be sure he was not death. So, the question stroke an electric shock in me when I realized he was referring to me, not the busy crowd moving up and down at the emergency ward.

I was left swimming in the mud.

He was obviously lost. Yes, I think lost should be the perfect word. But two lost could not bring us back to the track, so I told him to calm down; that it was not necessary he knew me. I was just there for him. Even in the wilderness of lost and the inquisitiveness to know who he was, he wasn't adamant to follow instructions. He was so docile and naive. He just wanted to discover himself because he was confused too.

He looked at me with cold dazed eyes.

Twelve hours earlier, a devastating news of the death of his friend's mother, a kind elderly woman hit him like a ballistic rocket. Out of sheer shock, he slumped unconsciously and was rushed to Barau Dikko Teaching Hospital, Kaduna where he was under medical professional scrutiny through the night. When he was subconscious, the doctor advised he should be taken home for few days. May be they needed the iron bed for another patient. That's a story for another day.

But we had a short journey full of thoughts.

Immediately after he was discharged from the atmosphere of the emergency ward where it smelled of dried blood, fresh wounds and hydrogen—not to mention of some puddles of urine on the toilet flour—we arrived home safely and disturbed. Still, he could only identify few individuals. The worse part of that experience was that he didn't recognize his parent; not even his favourite footballer, Messi. Everything seemed strange.

He seemed to be battling with strange feelings.

His brain couldn't remember events and names but he could play video games with the high skills he'd gotten and was able to read and write perfectly. As usual. Gradually, some memories started dropping back like dazzles of rain. "What says the time?" He asked when, in his subconscious memory remembered he slumped in the evening and he's now seeing 11:00 am. He had realized it was few days since the incident after checking the date.

He later requested for his phone.

Scrolling through his social media handles, seeing posts which he was tagged discovered that he was unconscious for some days. That shocked him more. Some were sending their prayers and well wishes while others were inquiring on the event which let to his condition. To summon it all, he was happy and sad about it. Deeply grave and elated. Not everybody needed their medical or say, personal and shocking condition[s] being discussed on social media.

Some issues are, and remain personal.

TYLER PERRY'S STRAW

A review on Tyler Perry's Straw as a remarkable heartthrobing movie which could give you a stroke in the process, especially parents—to be more specific—single mothers. Enjoy.

It is a story of Janiyah, a low income African American single mother who has been up and doing to give her sick daughter a better life. In the process, she got kicked out by her persisting landlady who couldn't wait for three days to pay her rent. Her boss fired her only because she spent beyond the time she had requested in order to solve her daughter's lunch bill. Her child's school reported her of not being able to take goodcare of her daughter; the agency therefore took the little girl away from her.

On the day she went to collect her cheque, after being fired, two armed guys wanted to rob her boss at the spot. Being bold and couldn't watch it happen without doing anything like a picture frame, she snatched away the piston and shot one guy, the other bolted. The menial and gutless boss called 911 and reported her of robbing him with her accomplice. Overwhelmingly confused, Janiyah shot him too and ran off. 

Immediately, Janiyah ran to her bank to cash out her cheque so that she could pay off her daughter's bills. On getting there and on being denied to help her cash the cheque without means of identification, she mistakenly flashed the piston she carried from the previous scene, and the whole bank panicked... She was then reported of being robbed a bank!

"I just need to work this out", Janiyah said when she realized the mess she was in—with the piston in her hand—and again her daughter's project which was assumed as an explosive. The assumed hostages were confused too, nor was she looking like she was robbing the bank or taking them as hostages. She left them go simultaneously while armed to the teeth police and FBI were waiting outside.

She was later convinced to surrender in order to get herself exonerated.

"Your daughter died last night!"

This is line that got me paralyzed for few seconds. As a father or let me put it this way, as a concerned human being, you can't watch this movie and not feel being subtle for a while. It takes a lot of courage, perseverance and doggedness to raise a kid alone.