03 Dec 2008 |
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Charles Chidi Onyekwere (1980-2008): The Melody echoes on. Alvan Amadi It was on Friday 28 November and I was working on my desk when the phone rang. At first I was hesitant to pick the call especially as all my immediate family members know better than to call me by that time of the day. Most of my friends too, do not usually call me that early in the morning. But when I looked at my handset and saw that it was a familiar number that was calling, someone that I think highly of and who does not usually ring me by that time, I guessed that it must be some thing really important that prompted the early morning call, so I immediately answered the phone. Instead of the familiar voice that I was expecting, it was a lady’s voice that I heard from the other side. It sounded distant and quite faint. I was about to disconnect the call when the voice suddenly became clearer. “Is that Alvan?” “Yes” was my cautious reply since I do not know the person asking though it is a friend’s number that is being used. Before I could ask who she is and how I can help her, the young lady on the other end gushed; “I am so and so and I am calling you because such and such asked me to. He should have called you himself, but he’s not yet able to bring himself to do it”. Intrigued, I pressed on; “And why?” “There’s trouble oooo. Chidi is dead”, said the voice. “He was killed yesterday in Port Harcourt by men suspected to be armed robbers” and the line went dead. There’s only one Chidi that I know, a very close friend of mine from our days at the minor seminary, Mater Ecclesiae Nguru. I have not got another close friend by that same name. But it can not be Chidi Onyekwere, I reassured myself. This can not be true. Not with the Chidi I know. Moreover, I was with him on the phone two days before that was on Wednesday. It just can not be true. I see no reason why it should. Chidi is too decent, too gentlemanly and too polished to deserve such a cruel fate. He’s such a fine young man with a childlike heart, cracking jokes, laughing and singing. Yes, singing. That was his specialty and talent. Chidi had a remarkably mellifluous voice and he was a classical performer to reckon with. Chidi was the closest I came to Luciano Pavarotti, Jose Carreras or Placido Domingo. “Handel” was his nickname at the Imo State University where he read Economics and where he was for a few years, in charge of the Choir of the University’s Catholic Chaplaincy. Later he was to become the Director of Chorals at the Aba Diocesan Choir, in addition to belonging to several choirs and choral ensembles who are ever in need of his expertise and talents. Chidi loved life and enjoyed it to the full. His joie de vivre was simply infectious. What would anybody gain from his death? No! Not Chidi. However, the person whose phone was used to break the news to me is not someone I know for frivolities. This must be some sick joke, I insisted. If only it was the first of April, then it would have been easy to dismiss it with a wave of the hand. But this is November, and the last time I checked, November Fools Day has not been placed on the calendar. Hence I had to call back almost immediately to express to this person that I did not find the joke-if that is what it is- funny. I am sure he could do better. He was the one that answered this time around. The anguish in his voice said it all to me, namely that he is not joking and that my friend Charles Chidi Onyekwere has been killed. It stung like a million wasps. I felt the pang in the pit of my stomach. There was a sudden dryness in my throat and I did not know I would breathe the next second. I just went blank. At an utter loss for words, I croaked: “How come? What happened?” He boarded a taxi after finishing for the day at the First Inland Bank where he works in Port Harcourt, I was told, a job he has held for less than six months. Unknown to him, the car he stepped into belonged to men of the underworld and when they did not find any money on him, he was beaten unconscious and his body dumped by the side of the motor way. A ‘good Samaritan’ found the body and carried him to the nearest hospital and the family was immediately contacted. But they arrived, only to identify his corpse as he was already dead before their arrival. At least, that was the story I heard. That is the story of a life that has been callously cut short in the most cruel and most brutal fashion. And that is Nigeria for you. A most blasphemous idea would be to hear someone tell me it is God’s will. I can not accept that God sanctioned this mindless killing, that God okayed this outrageously dastardly act, because it is entirely avoidable. I am not at all persuaded by this made-in-Nigeria type illogic unless someone is telling me that it is the will of God that Nigeria remains this jungle of lawlessness even while the rest of the world keeps advancing. Citizen Chidi is just one out of the many Nigerians who are mowed down on daily basis by hoodlums on our streets and sometimes by the very guns that are supposed to be used for their protection. These things happen and nobody bats an eyelid, nobody is tried neither is anybody brought to justice. Sadly, this is not the last time such an incident will occur. It is Chidi today, who is it going to be tomorrow? Everyone looks the other way and the very next day, it’s all business as usual. This is how cheap human life has become in modern Nigeria, in a Nigeria that has lost its bearing. Is this not to be expected in a country that is saddled with a rudderless leadership, one that revels in irresponsibility, gross incompetence and a phenomenal lack of vision? Armed robbers and assassins in our cities have become so bold these days that they neither border to put on masks nor do the y even need to come under cover of darkness. What is our response but to leave it up to God and to accept whatever comes with contemptuous meekness, while our leaders continue to feed fat from our collective misery. I remember hearing someone say that what is certain in Nigeria is not life but death by sudden, grave and unwarranted violence. How true that is. What an apt summation of the disaster-in-progress (to use Okey Ndibe’s ad rem phrase) called Nigeria. My heart goes out to Chidi’s parents Mr and Mrs Onyekwere whose unenviable lot it was to bury Chidi’s immediate younger brother a couple of years ago. And now this! Their scale of trauma and grief is what I will not wish for another Nigerian family. But will this magnitude of man-made disaster befell another family? Of course yes, for that is Nigeria for you. I pray God to grant the Onyekwere family the support and strength they need to get through this harrowing experience. Losing a first son at the prime of his life, especially one as promising, responsible, distinguished and talented as Charles Chidi Onyekwere is a colossal loss. His siblings too are in my thoughts. Chidi’s absence will be sorely missed. This fact can not be overstated. He was a star, a joy to know and fun to be with. For his miserable killers, I have scorn mingled with pity. In fact, my disdain for the scum of the earth that carried out this heinous crime, knows no bounds. Contemptible cowards they are. These moral lepers have not only sold their souls to the devil but have also murdered sleep. They have killed laughter. Since they abhor youth, jollity and goodness this way, would it ever find its way into their homes? My pity for them emerges when I imagine how they would explain this deed to God when their own day comes, for surely it will. In the meantime, our sorrow remains deep and our grief enormous. We are hurting and painfully so. This tragic death has compelled me to better appreciate the wisdom of Mary Jean Irion’s undying words. She writes: “... let me be aware of the treasure you are. Let me learn from you, love you, savour you, bless you before you depart. Let me not pass you by in quest of some rare and perfect tomorrow. One day I shall dig my fingers into the earth, or bury my face in the pillow, or stretch myself taut, or raise my hands to the sky and want more than all the world: your return”. We will certainly not see you again Chidi, until the Resurrection morning. Yours is a loss that we are yet struggling to come to terms with and with which we will live for the rest of our lives. Our fantastic memories of you will live on however, though a poor substitute for your ingenious presence. I pray the Lord whom you believed in, loved and generously served during your brief stint here, to embrace you now and welcome you into His Light and Peace. Let Him be your eternal recompense. May his Angels await you and accompany you with songs as you journey home to the Father. Sing on Chidi! Adios Chidoo my brother and God love you forever.
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