Today, August 3, 2024, he would have turned 90. But he passed away peacefully on June 21, 43 days to his 90th birthday. Still, I feel his presence as always. I hear his words in my ears. I know where he stands on life’s important issues and what he would have said in almost every circumstance. As a mark of remembrance and appreciation, permit me to share with you today just a few of the lessons I learnt from the man I was privileged to call “father.”
1. *“Never raise your hand against a woman. If you must test your strength as a man, go into the boxing ring.”*
While growing up (aged 6 – 10 years), I found my little sister to be quite disagreeable. We quarrelled often and I thought she talked a bit too much. Soon, I found that to have my way I frequently had to smack her. My dad would have none of that. So, anytime he came home, my little sister would go to him to report my sins. He would promptly summon me to his room. His first words were usually: “Have you ever seen me beating your mum?” I would shake my head to signal no. Without asking my side of the story, he would then proceed to retrieve his cane from the top of his wardrobe, and give me some painful strokes on my palms. I found this most unjust as a child, but as I got older I knew better. From those painful lessons, I learnt self-restraint. I learnt to walk away from trouble, sometimes even if I felt justified. I learnt respect for women. That lesson has served me well.
2. *“If you are truly my son, you would pass your exams and get by merit anything you aspire to in life. You will not have to beg anyone.”*
When I sat for my first JAMB exams in 1980, I scored 232/400. It was a marginal pass and didn’t earn me admission into my choice of university by merit. But in those days there was what was called the Vice Chancellor’s (or Staff) List, by which candidates who performed marginally below the cutoff marks stood some chance to be admitted if they were nominated by a high ranking university staff. I heard that a few of my friends were taking advantage of this window, so I approached my dad and asked him to speak to one of my “uncles” who was then a Deputy Registrar at UNN. My dad was furious. He upbraided me for even harboring such thoughts. He said he would never beg anyone for a favor I didn’t deserve. But his most painful words were, “If you are truly my son…” They stuck in my head like an angry bee on its victim. They got me thinking: Was it possible I was not really his son? After I recovered from my misery, I resolved to work so hard that I would not ask his favour ever again. When JAMB results came out the next year, I scored 311/400. It was one of the highest scores that year in the Faculty. I gained first list admission – entirely by merit. If not for my dad’s hurtful words, I would not have pushed myself so hard. Nor could I have discovered how much hard work pays at 17. I have not needed another lesson on that subject ever since.
3. *“It is not how much you make that makes you wealthy; it is the blessing of God upon whatever you make that multiplies your little seed into a rich harvest.”*
In December 1994, I traveled from Lagos to Enugu to see my parents at Christmas. I had moved from my initial job to another which paid three times more. But, strangely, I found that I still struggled financially and my take home pay barely saw me through each month. I was worried. So, part of my secret mission for that trip was to seek counsel from my old man. I told him I had a matter I wanted to discuss. Since I rarely sought such audiences, he knew this was serious. He said we could talk right away. I laid out my cards on the table. To my surprise, he broke into laughter after I finished. Then, he offered me a handshake. “Welcome to the club,” he said. I asked “Why?” He said it was a predicament he (and almost every young person) also had to go through. This eased my anxiety a bit. To cut a long story short, he told me never to spend a dime of my income until I had prayed over it, thanked God for the blessing and committed it to His hands. He said it was God who multiplies and makes sufficient. I tried his formula. It worked. It has worked ever since. I may not be on the Forbes Rich List yet, but I can testify that whatever is committed to God’s hand is sufficient.
4. *“Life without contentment is like a car without brakes. It will surely crash. Contentment is not the absence of ambition. It is the brakes that control ambition until we arrive safely at our destination.”*
My parents were both career civil servants. Growing up under them immediately after the civil war meant we had a few little privileges. Like a roof over our heads and food on our table. In a period when orphans, destitudes and the wounded roamed bullet-strewn streets and slept in buildings with blown out roofs, we counted ourselves lucky. But we were not among the rich. While we trekked to school daily, some of our schoolmates were chauffeur driven. I guess that’s what is called a “middle-class background.” Yet, I noticed that my dad lived a very joyful life. He belonged to the prestigious Sports Club and played tennis (later golf) every Saturday in his White Slazenger outfits. On other days, he sat up on the dinning table to work late into the night on office files or study for his Law degree. There were questions on my young mind I didn’t have to ask to get answers for. In his conversations with mum and his friends, I found the answers I needed. He was a man totally without jealousy or envy. Indeed, he believed that whatever he had was an undeserved gift to be grateful for; and whatever he didn’t have was a gift freely given to others. The bridge between the two was patience, hardwork and contentment. Not jealousy, envy or greed. I have not found a better worldview ever since.
5. *“A truly educated man doesn’t see the world from one angle. He tries to view it from multiple perspectives.”*
When I got into senior secondary school, my dad began to have regular conversations with me on choosing a career path. I observed that he had a bias for me to go into Law – just like him. It was (still is) considered a respectable profession and I was doing well in the prerequisite subjects. But my father had other ideas. He said he found from his study of Law that the best lawyers and judges were people with multidisciplinary backgrounds. He told me the story of Lord Denning, the celebrated English jurist, who first studied Mathematics before going into Law. He said Denning’s judgments were a pleasure to read because of their logical, “mathematical” clarity. He also told me about Justice Oputa and Alex Ekwueme, two illustrious Nigerians with degrees in different fields including Law. He proposed that I study any other discipline of my choosing as a first degree and Law as second in order to make me outstanding like his heroes. He said as long as he was alive, he would pay my way through that course of education. I readily agreed. I chose to study History as first degree. Though not my strongest, it was by far my fondest subject at school. I loved the stories and characters in history classes and the powerful lessons embedded in those stories. After four years and a degree in History, I had other ideas. I decided to go for a higher degree in Mass Communication, not Law. It was the hey days of Newswatch, Time Magazine and Newsweek. I was seduced by the essays of Dele Giwa, Ray Ekpu, Dan Agbese and Yakubu Mohammed. All I wanted was to learn to write like them. My dad was visibly upset when I told him about my change of plans. I said I was sorry and promised to make him proud. He kept his word and paid for my higher degree in Journalism. I decided he has done more than enough for me. I got a job and paid for every other education I have received ever since. I found his words to be true: “A truly educated man doesn’t see the world from one angle…” Those words have vastly enriched the way I see the world. They have had profound positive impact on my career. I wouldn’t do it any other way. And I owe it all to the man I proudly call “Dad.” May God Almighty rest his noble soul.
