James Oyewole, Executive Editor of The Graphic Newspaper, his wife, other family members, friends and well-wishers left no stone unturned in their efforts to save the lives of Master James Divine, the beloved son of Mr. and Mrs James. Divine is now late.
When life decides to whip a man or a woman through death, no resistance can stop its unappeaceable cane from covering his skin with lacerations, lesions and gashes; they will fester and go unredeemably gagrenous.This was what the death of Master Divine had done to his father and mother, Mr. and Mrs. James.
If Oyewole thinks of the conception of Divine, the nine months he spent in the womb of his lovely wife, the rigorous labour days in the hospital, the joyful birth, his infancy and every other strenuous effort he had made to guide Divine into a young adult age and think of the great but aborted dreams that he and his wife had for, and seen in Divine and only for this prey called death to now swoop on them, plucking Dinine from their warm wings as mother hen does her chicks, who can tell them not to cry?
Here was a son, a brilliant and a disciplined one at that, who brought joy to his father and mother that splendid day he excitingly came home to break the cheerful news to his Mummy and Daddy that he had secured an admission into Prince Audu Abubakar University, Ayigba, to study Statistics. His parent’s gratitude to God, gladness for the achievement, prayers for him and their seeing in the young Divine of beautiful dreams, aiming at the pinnacle of an academic mountain, was ubiquitous. If they did, which parent of a promising young man would have done otherwise?
As an educated family, Oyewole and his prayerful wife knew the value of Child Education. To do this, they were ready to sacrifice their comfort. So, they worked through thick and thin, trekked in the sun that breathed with furious fire, in the rain that rumbled with frightening lighting, yes, in the rain that hurled tearing thunder with its long hand upon the earth. To give early and quality education to Divine, the Oyewoles steeled themselves against impediments, the kind that makes the millipede to roll into coils in fear any time it is touched with even slender stick.
Therefore, they took Divine as an infant to a kindergarten, nursery and Primary school. The child did well in his post kindergarten schooling. After that, the Oyewoles worked hard to send him to High School. And Divine, now deceased, came out from his secondary school in flying colours, making his parent to be proud of him the more. Which responsible parent would not have done what they did?
Oh death, why is your dungeon full of stings!? Divine was a – two – hundred level student when you came to him with a fatal sting, ending all his visions and his parents’ hope in him, and desires for Divine. Death, I ask why? Divine was a potential professor, Minister or Governor. Who told you, oh death, that Divine could not have become a billionaire with moral rectitude, a future Aliko Dangote? who told you he could not have become a President? Nothing is beyond the Almighty God.
The disease that killed our boy first came quietly and feebly. It was a slight ailment. At one time it came as a tooth ache. Oyewole did not waste time taking Divine to the hospital. The doctors dealt with it.
Yet, Divine was still held down. Back to the hospital, the doctors began to diagnose him to know the nature of the disease. When they said they suspected leukemia, fear descended upon the household. Leukemia? God, please, have mercy on us! The Oyewoles screamed and begged
To be sure, Divine was referred to Gwagwalada hospital. “He is suffering from Leukemia,” the hospital confirmed. What a bad reality. Leukemia is a tragic disease. All its victims that I knew did not survive it. But I hated to think of Divine of promises as a dead person. I kept the fear away from my troubled mind and refused to share the evil thought with anyone.
“Leukemia can be cured in India,” Ah, India!? I let out a relieving scream when some said it was only India that had facilities to handle the ailment. In this type of case, to think of Nigeria and its hospital coming to the rescue is to delude oneself.We lack facilities that can tame leukemia in our hospitals. ‘ “Corruption will never allow such greatness in this Country.” My fellow discussant added. Did you know that there was a time that Nigeria and India were at par? See how bad, inept and visionless leadership has thrown Nigeria into bottomless pit of underdevelopment. When and how are we coming out of our pit of corruption, I don’t know.” He lamented.
But, respite came to me when Divine’s father, my Editor told me that Gwagalada had referred his son to Lagos hospital which had the expertise to cure Leukemia. It was a private hospital, run by the Whites. For me, it was a great news. Very relieving new.
Hospital bill? God will provide it. I prayed. And indeed, the Oyewoles did not spare anything to raise the first millions the hospital charged. Ten million naira for a start, and other millions of naira to follow later. Oza ohu ne kehi ni, Man is more precious than money, my people would say.
Therefore, the parents would do everything humanly possible to save the life of Divine. It was heard that Oyewole had to sell his house to raise part of the money. What is more precious than human life? We wanted Divine to live because Oyewole could not imagine himself using his hand to bury his son.
It was a cheering new when we had that Divine had been successfully treated. “Leukemia had been wrestled to the ground and buried.” We all happily said. I went to town, telling my friends that Leukemia is curable after all. “My Editors’ son who had suffered from the dreaded leukemia had been treated. He only goes back now for medical checkups.” I disseminated.
I was wrong. We were all wrong. The blood-sucking disease had defied the Lagos hospital and its White doctors, taking no pity on the Oyewoles and the rest of us. “Divine is dead,” came the tragic news.All efforts had gone down the drains. All hope that our son would live is lost. Divine came to live. Death had its tiny years closed and killed Dine. Nothing puzzles God as Chinua Achebe would say. What can man do in the face of death. Life can be cruel and kind to man. In this case, it is cruel to the Oyewoles. But nothing puzzles God.
Death had insisted and Divine had gone. All efforts by the Oyewoles had resulted to nought. Who can tell the bereaved family not to cry? But as the Egbira people would say in a matter like this, a fatal blow, Si eyi si Onotu wa si ri anyi; think of those who had experienced this sadness before and take heart; because if one thinks of the immeasurable length and breadth of the grief fabric of his heart and therefore wants to weep in the same measure, the sea of tears in his eye will dry to its ebb. And the deceased will still not come back to live with us.
Of all the pains that confront a man in this world, one of the worst of them is the death of one’s child. Becoming a widow, widower or an orphan when the fruit of the deceased is yet to ripe for the mouth is also a worst pain, a pain, compared to none. Yet, what can man do?
If this type of tragedy has not happened to a man, he will not understand the degree of its pain. But we pray none of us should experience it though we all know how brutal, wicked and implacable death can be. Please, the Oyewoles, on behalf of The Graphic Newspaper family, accept my condolences. Dry your tears and wait for God’s consolations. God that gives us tears is the one that also gives laughter. May he replace this weeping with joy. Nothing is beyond him.
I know my Editor will be wondering, “Oh, God why me?”There is nobody that this agony cannot happen to. We only pray we should live our life to the fullest before it comes. This is the way of the world. I know a centenarian who never lost any of his many children and grand children. Yet, he is well over a hundred years.
I also know another man who feared death so much in his youthful days that he will tell his friends, ” If I see death when it is coming, I wii dig a burrow of hundreds of kilometers and hide from it” He said this on daily basis. Truly, death did not prey on him when his fruit was still green; he lived long like a methusalah that he started praying to death to come for him. But death refused to take him as he wished.This is the way of the world.
A female celebrity Journalist once interviewed Achebe in the United State. She asked: “Sir, since this accident came to confine you to a wheel chair, have you at one point or the other looked on to God and asked, ‘God, why me of all people?
Achebe replied: “My daughter, if not me, who else would you have wanted this to happen to? If God in his infinite mercy had given me sixty years to walk all over the world before now, who else should this have happened to? Did you know that there are people who were born and never walked for once on the soils of this world?”
This is the way of the world; askew and straight. We have had a million cases of pregnancy miscarriages. Those children were never born. Cases of children who are stillborn are abound. There are people who walk on all fours like animals, what can they do? Life can be kind and cruel. There are people who are never blessed with the fruits of the womb. Not even one? And they never asked for barren wombs. But what can they do to God.?
The lessen from this tragedy is that no matter what happened to man, there is still room to show gratitude to the Almighty God.
This was what Achebe thought the Journalist and the world in the interview. I am sure the Oyewoles know this. They know that the God that makes a man to cry is the same God that fills his mouth with laughter. The Oyewoles will laugh again, trust God.
Life is cruel and kind; askew and straight. Nothing puzzles God. Let the Oyewoles Si eyi si Onotu and dry their tears. Life is straight and askew. This is the way of the word. Please, accept our condolences.
– YJ Itopa
Managing Director,
The Graphic Newspaper.
