By Olamide Jasanya
It was more or less a re-union of the old St Gregorians, only that this time, the order of programme was slightly abnormal. There was neither a deejay nor a turn table. Only slow, comforting Christian songs from the speakers. The atmosphere was heavy, so were the eyes of many. The cups contained no liquid but white candle sticks and the dress code, black on black.
It was my first time at a candle night session and this was for Late Irawo Adamolekun, who though I never met in person was described as an amiable individual and one of the friendliest young men around.
I listened as Ojia (his sister) speak. I thought it strange that she, who has lost two brothers in eight years, who is in more pains than we can ever understand, would ask me not to cry. Like many who knew Irawo and the Adamolekuns, Ojia is yet to come to terms with her loss, but hearing her speak last night, I could tell she’s been surrounded by pillars, strong pillars. I tapped into her strength and when the tears welled up, I fought them back and busied myself imagining Irawo’s last moments.
He must have had plans for the rest of the day, had he been spared. Many patients were waiting for him to return and attend to them. This was a guy whose smile must have brightened many lives. I wanted to know his last minutes. I wanted to know the thoughts in his head before the devil came around? If he had an idea this was going to happen or if the clothes and the shoes he had on were his favourite. I wanted to know if he thought the coward who pulled the trigger on him was just a random bandit or someone sent to get him? I wanted to know, did he feel pity for his killer? I had in my mind, many questions only Irawo could answer…
But who is next after Irawo? I thought again. I looked through the over 200 young men and women walking with candle sticks and the few that stood to watch. I can not tell who’s next, but with the collapsed health, education, security and judiciary systems in my country, it’s clear to see that we’re all on a waiting list. This madness will happen again. And again. And again.
As I place my candle on the floor, I weep for the Adamolekuns, but I weep more for myself and for the many others who are yet to be hit.
Who is next after Irawo Adamolekun?
1 comment
Two years on, Irawo's death, and all that has gone down with it, still hurts. I feel for u, Ojia, I feel for your mom, your dad, General Adamolekun, with whom I share an acquaintance that goes back over 40 years.By and large, WE KNOW that it is pointless questioning God, or rationalizing the killer(s)? who did what they did, and blaming the system. Afterall, we are all witnesses to these things that have become endemic in these parts, and to be sure, EVEN in those places we call ADVANCED. However, as the Lord leads u, continue in the task u have set forth in your heart on this matter. I know God is faithful, and nobody more than u KNOW that HE has never left u comfortless. I leave you with a quote from the text of the famous speech of President Abraham Lincoln at the ground-breaking ceremony of the Gettysburg Memorial National Cemetery dedicated to the thousands of YOUNG soldiers who fell at the now-famed Battle of Gettysburg in 1864 " The world will little note nor long remember what we say here, BUT she can never FORGET what they DID here…… It is for us the living, rather, to be here dedicated to that cause for which, they here, gave their last full measure of devotion……….to bind up the nations wounds, to care for him who shall have born the battle, and for his widow, and for his orphan…..to do ALL that might acheive, a just and a lasting peace, among ourselves, and with all nations. "