I never got to meet my grandparents; both on my father's and my mother’s side. My maternal grandparents died long before I was born. The same can also be said about my paternal grandfather. My father’s mother, however, lived the longest. But sadly, we lost her eventually. However, that was when I was still nothing but a child.
I have little to no memories of her, and today when my Dad and other relatives talk about her, it’s never a conversation I’m ever really able to partake in because I never really had the opportunity to create some memories with her. So, when I think about her, all I get is a blank slate.
However, when it comes to death, I’ve felt it. I’ve had a front-row seat to seeing just how much pain and suffering it can bring, and how nothing on earth can ever adequately prepare you for it. Nothing! Even knowing that it was just around the corner didn’t make it any easier to bear.
I’ve spoken here about my brother before. He was my eldest brother and we lost him in December of 2012 when I was in SS1. This year would make it 12 years since his passing. And with every year that goes by, we keep missing him.
OdDman, as he was fondly called, was a gem. He was an inspiration to me as a writer and it was from him that I got the motivation to write whatever I wanted to write without fear of what people will say. His works were always raw and gritty without any form of filter because he believed that no matter how it was, he would always have a reader somewhere in the world.
He studied at the University of Ibadan, and during his time there, he was quite popular. He was popular with those in the literary and theatre arts, he even once wrote a story that was meant to serve as a protest against the deplorable state of the hostels and infrastructure in the school.
But then, he wasn’t just an ace writer, he was also a chess master. He introduced my entire family to the game and today, we all play chess. We’re not experts at it or anything, but I can bet you that we can put up a reasonable fight against an average player. He went into multiple competitions and won them, one time he even got featured in the newspaper.
He was so full of dreams. He had so many things planned out for his life, so many things he wanted to do. Sadly, none of them were ever to come to fruition. He fell terminally ill and it was discovered that he had failed kidneys. Slowly, his health deteriorated and no matter how much we tried to avoid it, we were slowly watching him fade away. It was just as we were getting ready to fly him to India for a transplant surgery that he finally gave up the ghost.
That was a painful period of our lives and we all dealt with it differently. For me, it affected me so much that I even failed my class and had to repeat it. Every day, we miss him terribly. And as we get closer to each December, we’re forced to face the anniversary of his passing. He’ll never be forgotten, and we’re doing our best to make sure that even the world gets to know about him. We’re getting there.
My brother is an inspiration to me because from him I’ve learned a lot about writing and how to tell my stories. We both majored in thrillers, but still, we managed to cover major societal issues with thrillers and proffer solutions through them. My brother taught me that.
I miss him every day, and it hurts me that he never got to live to see the world of today where we have Hive blockchain and the like. He would have had so much to say, and on a platform like this where you can’t ever get canceled for saying your mind, you can rest assured that my brother would have bared his mind.
Anyway, I know he’s in a better place. And as long as myself and my family carry him in our hearts, then he’s never really gone. He’ll always be with us.
Rest in Peace, OdDman.