Tuesday 30 June 2015

Memoirs of a Dying Father

One of the things we grew up to learn about our history is that in the days of old, the strong ruled the weak and the wise grew strong (my favourite line in a certain song). Warriors became kings and willed the crown.  From this lineage of warriors a child was born. Fathered from a royal bloodline and born to a mother from a family popularly known for playing the traditional talking drums.

As the warrior implies, this young boy grew up to be a strong man fierce in battle and may have cheated death too many times to comprehend. At a point, he was caught up in the middle of the Ife-Modakeke crisis right across the line of fire. He was also brave enough to occasionally step out putting his life in line to protect others, facing armed robbers in a fire exchange a few times. But yet a peacemaker and a fun loving fine gentleman I grew up to call Father.
Our family like any other had the highs and the lows as every regular family. But one special thing kept us bound together. This was his love for having the whole family around him at all times (nuclear and extended). He practiced the rule of a ‘family that eats together stays together.’ Though father never followed anyone to school to gain admissions, he usually ended up always being the PTA chairman at all the schools we attended (I don’t know how). I remember at a particular point he called my siblings and I together and said, “I may not be doing everything right, just know that I never really had a father to teach me how to be one.” That was meant to justify learning on the job. I saw that as his manly way of apologising for all the mistakes he has made and yet to make which I think was just fine and acceptable.


I'm not sure I will end this note in brief if I decide to describe the almost 20 year experience I had being a son. What I do know is that the time was fulfilling and everyone that knew Prince Adedotun Adegboyega Layade can testify there was never a dull moment around him. I've heard people say "certain people show signs of their last days when the time is near". Now that I'm thinking about it, it seems pretty obvious but no one payed attention to it. But you never really know these things and how they work.


Thinking back to about a month before Father passed on, we had to take a trip to Abuja for a family event, only to my surprise he decided we were going to hire a minivan. It was understandable to go by road since he never felt comfortable enough with local flights and was always on the road. What I couldn’t place my thoughts to understand was the reason to pay heavily to hire a vehicle having two drivers and a series of long distance worthy vehicles. Strangely on our way back around Ekiti, the hired minivan from a very popular transport company in the country broke down. Yet again very unlike father we chartered a taxi station wagon (505) just at that spot straight to Ibadan. No refund was claimed and no report made to the company.

For those that understand my dad’s religious doctrine, he decided to worship at the family Anglican Church in Ile-Ife the Sunday before his demise. This was yet another shocking unexplainable occurrence. It was a regular Sunday service. I won’t really say I know or understand what transpired between that Sunday and Tuesday July 01, 2008 the sad incident occurred. But what I can say I noticed was a sober reflection. We worked together all through Monday preparing a contract tender documents he was due to submit in Benin, Edo state on Tuesday. This kept us both working till about 10pm Monday night. Tuesday morning, he prepared for his trip as always noting he will make a stopover at Ife. When he was ready to leave I was assigned a few tasks for the office while he’ll be away. He handed me a thousand naira saying “ recharge your phone with this so you don’t have any excuse not to call to check up on me though I know you’ll be fine,” make sure you call because you never do, and he shook my hand to say goodbye.

Sadly, that was the last and final goodbye we shared on the first day of July year two thousand and eight.

Some mysteries can never be uncovered, and some questions are better left unasked. Till this very day seven years after, I still have questions never asked, and mysteries yet to be uncovered. I choose to make peace and move on knowing he lived a fulfilled life though I will give almost anything to say the words I never said and a final goodbye. For all the loved ones that have passed on, their memories live on in our hearts and in our minds. Live long dear dad.


Deji Layade