REFLECTIONS ON DEATH AND REMINISCENCES: ONLY FEW ARE LEFT
“Sorrow is part of the earth’s great cycles, flowing into the night like cool air sinking down a river course. To feel sorry is to float on the pulse of the heart, the surge from living to dying, from coming to being to ceasing to exist. Maybe this is why the earth has the power over time to wash sorrow into a deeper pool, cold and shadowed. And maybe this is why, even though sorrow never disappears, it can make a deeper connection to the currents of life and so connect somehow, to sources of wonder and solace.” -Kathleen Dean Moore
By Babatunde Jose
Reflecting on the inevitability of our death can help us snap out of the trance of taking the beauty and wonder of life and the universe for granted. It’s easy to put our heads down and focus on what’s in front of us, but _memento mori_ can help us tune back into the astonishing beauty and majesty of life.
Death brings suffering to the body, the heart, and the mind. Therefore, the progressing loss of a loved one brings sadness, often despair and a deep pain which we wish to acknowledge for all who have loved another.
Death teaches us about the finiteness of life and time, and that the longer we continue to hold onto our past, the longer we continue to be burdened by things that will soon hold no value for us.
Death at root is a separation. In humans, it’s what happens when the physical body and the immaterial part of us (called the spirit or soul) separate. As James 2:26 puts it, *“The body without the spirit is dead.”* When people we love die, the rest of us feel separation too.
“When someone you love becomes a memory, the memory becomes a treasure.”
The Book of Maccabees says that it’s a healthy thing to pray for the dead and that, every so often, it’s healthy too to think about death, both by remembering those who have died and by contemplating the reality and certainty of our own deaths.
It was late Bob Marley who said *‘Good friends we have, oh, good friends we’ve lost, Along the way. In this great future, you can’t forget your past; So dry your tears, I say, ..No, woman, no cry.*
And indeed, there were good friends we had and good friends we lost, along the way in this journey called life. Reminiscing over these losses brings sweet and sad memories.
Among those good friends were Sikiru Akinpelu who died shortly after I returned from Port Harcourt, in the late seventies; Yemi Bakare a very good friend, (gone but not forgotten). And Isiaka Allison (Soku) with whom we rocked not only in Lagos but later in Manchester and then back to Lagos till he died shortly after his 70th birthday.
Professor Lateef Hussein and I were in UI and later in Manchester. He lived not far from my house in Charlton-Cum-Hardy, and we shared many evenings together. That friendship was continued when we both came back home, and he later became VC LASU. A gifted Quranic scholar and very jovial fellow, the Prof was an Abibu Oluwa fan till the end. We still miss him. May Allah grant them all, Jannatul Firdous.
In the university days, many friends were made in Great Ife courtesy of my frequent visits to my bosom friend DelFaj. It was at Ife I met Onome Ibru whose death in an accident on the Lagos Ibadan Road brough untold grief and sadness to us.
Another friend at Ife was Doyin Akinyosotu (Tenko Lash, Aladan) who later became Chairman of the Ifesowapo local government at Ile Oluji, in Ondo State. He later died of cirrhosis of the liver.
Another Ife friend was the unbreakable Akin Fashakin, who passed away under mysterious circumstances in Lagos about 30 years ago. I used to enjoy his company during my many visits to Kano where he lived. But all that is now in the realm of reminiscences.
How can I forget Bob, (Ade Bombers), my friend, partner in crime and In-Law, Ade Owolade? From Ibadan to Swaziland and South Africa. The Hugh Masekela DVD (Time) he gave me is still much cherished. Ade died in a Pretoria hospital in 2005. May his soul continue to rest in peace. He was not only my in-law but ‘my cousin’, which was how we introduced ourselves to others.
Another good friend we had and lost was indomitable Dele Adeola, a very sociable and dependable friend. I remember the New Year parties in his place, our occasional lunch and travels to Ondo, Dubai, and many other places.
In that same group were Joe Alagbe, former Provost Marshal of the Air Force, Air Marshal Ibrahim Alfa and lately AVM Atto, who at a time succeeded Alagbe as Provost Marshal. All gentlemen officers. The Allen Avenue days will forever remain fresh. There was also our very own, Popo Akinyanju, a gentleman per excellence.
This reminiscences are by no means exhaustive. In the London scene were Ademola Elegbege, his wife Joko and then Dotun Animashaun (Ani Bongolo), Wasiu Elegbege (Ejo), Demola Bamgbala, Uncle Femi Ajasa in whose place late Yemisi, my life-long friend and companion, stayed on Blackstock Road N4, by the old Arsenal Stadium and his friend Mr. Ojobara (Mr. Baro). May their souls rest in peace. Lest we forget, Peju Odunsi of Chelmsford (Sister Donohue). Those were the good days. Not forgetting Tunde Omotsaye and his sister Joyce both of Oxberry Avenue, Fulham: A place of happiness and joy.
Recently we lost Mustapha Abiodun Bashua, Wasiu Masha, Tunde Goodluck (Goodie), all of Ahmadiyya, Eleyele, Ibadan. Olu Dada and Damola Oluwole and before them Segun Adebo, Mexico, Tunde Alabi (Banana), Sola Odunubi, and of course, Toyin Ojibara.
Modele Williams, our very own ‘Emperor Modus’. Senator Muniru Muse, my friend, and prayers partner, every Juma’at for many years. And my inimitable Veronica Chaka, an Amazon, secretary, and convenor of our monthly Bosnia nights.
Demola and Tunde Fagbayi (Engine); unforgettable boat rides to Ilashe, Tarkwa, and the skiing, fishing, and overnight escapades at Tarkwa Bay. In this, we must not forget Segun Adesanya, my paddy man of blessed memory. And later his brother Femi.
In UI: Never to be forgotten Tunji Alamutu, my mentor; Tunji Awobadejo; my roommate, brother and friend, John Azukaego Jideonwo; Tunde Oloyede, Sir Tune. Soji Osoyintuyi, Rufai Ibrahim, all ‘Great Independents’ and our PRO, Yakubu Abdul-Azeez. Another classmate we lost was Professor Shina Sambo (Sambele).
My lecturer and friend who was instrumental in my going to Manchester, Dr Ajibola, ‘People’s Ajibs’. Unfortunately, he had died in an accident by the time I returned from Manchester. May his fiery soul rest in peace.
Lest we forget Tunde Adeyemi of Temples and Golders, late of Itamogiri, Ijebu-Mushin.
And of course, my cousin, Captain Tunde Ashafa. Definitely, not many of us are left.
We need to reflect and take good care of what is left, so that we may not be in loss. The Quran said, Wal‘aṣr, ’innal ’insāna lafī khusr(in) , ’il-la l-lzīna ’āmanū wa‘amilu ṣ-ṣāliḥāti watawāṣaw bilḥaq-qi tawāṣaw biṣ-ṣabr: *1. By (the Token of) Time (through the Ages), 2. Verily Man is in loss, 3. Except such as have Faith, And do righteous deeds, And (join together) In the mutual teaching Of Truth, and of Patience and Constancy. (Quran 103)*
Our being is bound by time from birth to death. Reflect on death, remind yourself that you have a limited (even shorter than you think) time on this planet.
Philosophy itself is, in fact, a kind of “training for dying”, a purification of the philosopher’s soul from its bodily attachment. Thus, Socrates concludes, it would be unreasonable for a philosopher to fear death, since upon dying he is most likely to obtain the wisdom which he has been seeking his whole life.
According to an even more extreme view, life is made more meaningful by the recognition that it will end with death. According to this view, we gain a deeper appreciation for the common satisfactions of our everyday experience when we fully realize that someday we will die and will then have nothing at all.
In a sense, death is the ultimate purveyor of perspective. It helps us see trivial things for what they are—and face up to the fact that much of what we worry about and consume ourselves with isn’t so important after all. Reflecting on death can help us stop fretting about things that are outside our control.
Death is repeatedly compared with sleep, which is at times described as “the little death. *”It is Allah that takes the souls (of men) at death; and those that die not (He takes) during their sleep: Those on whom He has passed the decree of death, He keeps back (from returning to life), but the rest He sends (to their bodies) for a term appointed. Verily in this are Signs for those who reflect. (Quran 39:42).*
Death can come any minute; as a Muslim, live every moment in your life as if it’s the last, live with faith, hope, preparation, and bear in mind that there is no time for later.
Pray as if it’s your last time, read Qur’an as if it’s your last time reading it, worship your Lord as if it’s your last chance, cause one day, most certainly, it will be your last day!
Honest prayer can help us walk that tightrope and honest prayer is what we do when we can bring ourselves naked before God, unprotected by what we do, by what we own, by what we have achieved, and by anything else we have to fend off loneliness, fear, and death. In honest prayer we can be deep without being morbid.
We will conclude this sermon with late Abibu Oluwa’s admonition: _Oku s’adua f’araiye, araiye s’adua r’ero orun. K’aye o yewa, k’orun o yewon; aw ana ‘nbo wa d’abi awon. Translate?
Barka Juma’at and a happy weekend.
Babatunde Jose
