This is all about me, indulge me please!

I'm not going to title this because I don’t know what to call it. Maybe I should, but here I am lost for words. It’s been a while I’ve written… Adeife persuaded severally over the past couple of months to write something, but I couldn’t be bothered; I wasn’t ready yet. Not ready to put heart on paper… not ready to talk… This is like the forcing of my hand, please pardon me… I’m writing because my mind is on overload, so full I’m going crazy… My heart is heavy, oh lead can’t be weightier! Can I speak? Will you listen? Wish my ink could flow faster; my fingers could type faster… that I might write quickly and run back to my shelter… The events of the last few days has been so heart wrenching… it’s so for me because this is the second time I’m written such in one year, with the circumstances being alike. I don’t wanna write
such again.

I'm not going to honour Nigeria, by ranting about it, no! Neither will I face NCAA, Minister for Aviation or his ministry, because they don’t deserve my attention… don’t even mention Dana Air to me or I’ll puke. I’m going to talk about me; I’m going to make this about me. Wait a minute, I’m not going to pretend I lost someone in that plane crash, because I didn’t. Or maybe I did and I’m in denial… No, I’m not confused. Bear with me, I’m going somewhere soon. If you’ve never met her, I’m sure you’re now familiar with the smile, as it has graced every publication on the Dana Air Crash of June 3, 2012. Well, let me introduce you to my school mum of a month or two during a semester break. Now, I’m lost for words again… where do I start? How do I go about?


Sunday evening, I was on twitter ranting about the mishap… I slept cold that night, because my heart in pain; I guess it couldn’t get blood round the body fast enough to keep me warm. Checked mail in the morning and heard one of my sisters was on the flight… I didn’t mention that I belong to a family with thousands of siblings; Christ Love Fellowship, I’m sure you’ve heard of us. I only heard Amaka… so I scurried to twitter asking for the manifest, same manifest I told myself I wasn’t going read about 10 hours before… went through the list saw a different surname from what I knew, so I stayed hopeful or was I in denial? So, I went to Facebook and search Amaka Ojugbana, saw that smile and said “no, it’s not her!” The smile seemed too real to have gone… There were variances of the name there so I thought, most likely the others… so I sent the first one a friend request. Denying it, I went through the manifest again, then I knew I better wake up; I just saw her maiden name attached to two other people’s initials… AWANI! I took a pause and went to Facebook, through all our friends and families profile… I’m lost again.


Said she was my school mother for a few months, right? Let me tell you about it. I’m one of those people that seem to know everyone by first name, blame it on my heart. Oh, I got into the University and at a point it kinda became my permanent residence. That year I was staying in a friend’s BQ in the Staff Quarters of OAU, The Ali’s. They went home for the first semester break, but being me, I stayed put in Ife hanging out with friends and reading as I had exams coming up. I fell ill, but because I was a “work-till-I-drop” kind of person I was on campus hanging with friend. Apparently, the Meds that I was on had some side-effects that broke me down one day while I was hanging with some final studentjs in their hostel room in Faj. They were male, so they decided to hand me over to a female friend of theirs; Amaka Awani. That’s how she became my mom. She watched over me for about 3 days, while the most I did was eat and sleep. She got me supplies and all, I remember because the roll on I used for the next couple of months was part of them. I think she even got someone to go get my things from quarters (that I don’t remember cos I was as delirious as I could be; quinine at work, I guess.) She would check on me until school resumed and I had to be shuttling Lagos and Ife because of me programme.

Let me tell you about Amaka Awani, as we called her. She’s one of the quietest people I know; quiet, easy going, you could easily mistake her for a snob. Yes, she is adorable as pleasant as the smile she wears on her face. Brilliant, articulate would not be an exaggeration. That she was and more… She seems principled and she is. She has a practical way of teaching; a simple life she led. Was with her once, while she was correcting a friend’s diction. Obinna is one of those Igbo guys that says “dunt” while they meant “don’t.” Here was what Amaka said “Obinna, say ‘doh, reh, mee, fah, soh, lah, tee, doh, don’t’” That moment was written on my heart with indelible ink… it plays on and on in my head. Obinna was a friend and of course a toaster, while she wasn’t giving him a green light then, she didn’t mess with his pride as a man. She left us that day, leaving something on me; an admiration for her. Never met the Queen before, but that evening she stood taller in my sight than the Queen of England would ever be. Not sure I’ve met anyone who had more regard for the persons of people regardless of who they were. In that, she is my role model. Please let me take some time to breathe, I don’t know how long I’ve been holding my breath… probably since Monday.


Said goodbye on Monday, but I’m not sure I really meant it. Call me selfish, but I secretly wish it was some other Ojugbana’s that were on that flight, maybe my Amaka is at home. Maybe, they decided they were going to come on Monday, like some others… or did they take an earlier flight… At this point I want to stop questioning, but I don’t know how. Maybe it would have be easier if the circumstance was not preventable… “Seyi, don’t think like that! It will only getting you angrier, you don’t want to work yourself up any further…” Why did I start writing? Not sure anymore… Been teary all week, couldn’t concentrate on work… broke down finally in a public place on Thursday. Maybe I couldn’t take it anymore… maybe that’s what this post is about…

I think I know what this is; I have chosen not to allow death to glut over this event as victory. No death, it’s not your victory. You would have won, if I had known Amaka… maybe, if she was just one of the passive travellers in life. She was a victor in life, she led a full life at every moment… not because of her age, but because of what she gave back to life… I said this is about me, yes it is. Reminds me to love as dearly as I ever can, to pour myself out as much as I’m filled wasting no time of affairs that have no value on life… I’m glad I wrote this because now my feet are lighter, I can run faster. Amaka thanks for being you.