Excerpt From part 1:
From my sleep I heard a very loud noise; getting up I thought the sound was coming from outside so I ran out in anxiety and fear. As I stood panicking outside, I tried to figure out the cause of the noise but to my utmost surprise everywhere seemed peaceful except for the sound of my headstrong neighbours who had decided not to change over and turn off their generator set.
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December 12, 2012
I went back inside the house with the conclusion that I was probably dreaming but then as soon as I stepped into the house, the noise resurfaced. At that moment, I thought I had lost it completely. I am very sure if my goons at Sodeinde Hall, University of Lagos come about this, they would chorus their ever green chant “Were re oooo!!!”. To be honest I couldn’t imagine what was going on. It took me about five minutes to decipher that there was actually a noise but then it wasn’t from outside nor from my dream but from the television set I had slept off watching. I ran back to the sitting room to find out why the station had decided to air a programme that produced so much noise.
As I stared into the screen, I saw a multitude of young people, old men and women, the rich, the poor, the common man, celebrities, spiritual fathers, political leaders and the likes all crying bitterly and throwing themselves to the ground. They were mourning the loss of a great man. A man who at the expense of his freedom , family, friends, career and peace of mind fought for the abolition of a policy that brought division among his people; a man who at the risk of losing his life fought for peace and human rights around the world. These group of people I mentioned earlier make up the nation of South Africa and they were mourning the great Nelson Mandela.
It wasn’t like I haven’t seen or heard about him prior to that time but as I sat down to try and read on the screen when, why and how exactly he died; I heard a voice say clear to me, “Kunbi, if you die tomorrow, what would you be remembered for? Would people mourn your demise? Would everybody or just anybody regret loosing you and query God for not giving you little more time? At that very instant, tears began to roll down my eyes. As I reminisced on my past, I came to the realisation that I hadn’t been living up to expectation, I wasn’t being the good son I ought to be to my parents neither was I a great brother to my siblings nor a great student and friend to my lecturers and friends respectively. That day my eyes became wide opened and I saw all the loop holes in my life. Nelson Mandela’s “death” gave “birth” to a new me. His death brought to my knowledge that it is of a great necessity that my life, time, works and name be imprinted boldly in the sands of time.
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