25 Oct 2005 |
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I have tried since Saturday, October 22 to live in
denial; I’ve lost one of the closest friends I have in that Bellview
plane crash and I simply can’t believe it. His name is Richard
Akinboyejo Akinola and he is No 8 on that list. We call him ‘Rigbo
(short for Akarigbo) or Aka-baby. We were classmates at the From what I’ve now gathered, he had visited relations and friends in Rigbo was just too full of life! In school, we lived a very active social life and indeed had a reputation for living that hard. Rigbo, Tayo Kuku and I were known as the three musketeers, because we were simply inseparable. A month or so before exams, we had this habit of going into seclusion in a hotel, away from it all. We will be here preparing for the examination, giving it our full attention, banning all kinds of visits or calls from any of our friends. We did this because, as I said, we were very active socially; so, we knew we needed to get away from the scene to be able to concentrate. The only female person in our company was usually Lola, who was also our classmate and who is today my beloved wife and mother of my children. We’ve lost a friend and a brother. In fact, Rigbo has always been part of our life since the day we met. I’ve always looked forward to his yearly visit to the UK and when he came this year, we discussed the possibility of him coming over to do his doctorate in Law, including bringing his family over for that time. Now, as I try to come to terms with this reality, I can’t help but think that part of me has died with Rigbo. I will never hear him again call me “Keno-aba!”, I will never look into his eyes anymore and try reading the mischievous glint or hear again his rich infectious laughter! The guy is gone! Dead! Rigbo has left behind a young, heavily pregnant wife and two lovely children under five. They will never have a place to go to say: “Here is where our father is buried”, because there is no body to bury! I can never have a place to visit and share a silent peaceful moment with my friend and brother! Death has done its worst, still life must go on. But as part of me has died with him, so part of him must continue to live with me. He was a great person and a great friend. Rest in peace, my brother, till we meet to part no more. Adieu!
A Sonnet
for ‘Rigbo Thorns,
romancing these beautiful flowers into a smoky brown, Blooming
colours faded; cries unheard by the lost gardener. Come, Wild
Winds, knock off this reaper’s phoney and tainted crown! Weave his
crime a zillion places on our soaked, flowing banner. Here I am,
in the shade of the willow, a magpie shrieks and dives, Your
imprints large on my sands; the memory punishingly sweet And around
me lurk these others, stuck in their own secret knives. Such abrupt
legacy you’ve left each of us, drenched to our sorry feet. I will go
before you; I will be there in your depths of despair. I will
raise you, a phoenix above those scattered ashes of sorrow; Above the
flaming eyes, above the noisy fair, no blemishes and no repair, For I’ve
taken away today and placed them in the safe palms of tomorrow. Now,
listen. Listen. Listen to the silence of the broken harp, Listen to
our cheers again this last but not lonely lap.
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