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Tag: angel

  • MD Yusufu: Departure of a guardian angel

    MD Yusufu: Departure of a guardian angel

    SIR: The death of Alhaji Mohammed Dikko Yusufu on the first day of this month should have been a silly April fool’s day prank for me. But alas, it wasn’t. For many, the death of MD would have been another attestation of the mortality of man. But to me, MD Yusufu was not just another man who had attained high position of governance in Nigeria.

    During the most difficult personal challenges that came my way in the seventies, MD sprung up around my children and I like a guardian angel. There were few people that one could run to who could provide a bulwark against the torments of the heart and body that became my lot in the midst of the abuses I suffered in the seventies when he was Nigeria’s top policeman.

    As the Inspector General of Police, he worked with then Head of State, General Murtala Muhammed to provide succour to us because it was the right thing to do.

    MD’s gallant defence of my emotional and human rights was to be further displayed to the surprise of most Nigerians in the nineties when he defied all odds to stand against the political aspirations of the military rulers when he stood for the presidential elections.

    Many Nigerians at that time would have asked where MD got his spirit of boldness? Till today, I still wonder from where this former Police boss got his unusual boldness. I really cannot know. All I can recall now is the recoil and cringe that I saw in him at the first sight of injustice to men and women of all tribes and religions.

    At the height of the domestic violence and persecution I suffered, I regularly saw those cringes as he responded to alleviate our devastating situation.  His words and acts of encouragement easily dismissed the assumption that some in my position would have believed that all men who attain power abuse it.

    MD Yusufu was there for us at the critical time in my life when justice and due process needed to be applied and not power and opportunity.

    I hope his family is comforted in the legacy of good works he left behind as a kind hearted and truly detribalized Nigerian. He was a blessing to me and I am sure to many others he came across. His loss to Nigeria is unquantifiable.

    Heaven has indeed gained an angel while earth has lost a sweet soul. May his soul rest in peace.

     

    Mrs. Oluremi Obasanjo is wife of former President Olusegun Obasanjo.

  • Angel Ameyo

    Wat does it mean to be characterised as angelic? Illumination came at the solemn Night of Tributes and Service of Songs organised to say a formal and final farewell to the departed Dr. Ameyo Stella Adadevoh who patriotically and heroically gave her life to save the country from a possible viral catastrophe.

    It was perhaps fitting that a team of ladies screened people with gadgets at the entrance and supplied sanitisers for use as the venue filled up gradually, which were obvious precautionary measures in the face of the ongoing battle with a killer virus.  By 6pm on September 11, Harbour Point, Victoria Island, Lagos, was ready for a review of the life and times of the doctor who succumbed to the deadly Ebola Virus Disease (EVD) which she had contracted in the course of treating the country’s first case of the bug, Patrick Sawyer, the Liberian-American who died of EVD on July 25. Tragically, Adadevoh herself passed away on August 19, less than one month after her life-threatening encounter with Sawyer.

    Adadevoh gazed at the population in the expansive space. She was frozen on a canvass framed with a garland of white, cream and green flowers; she wore a doctor’s white overcoat and a stethoscope was around her neck. Her striking portrait formed the background on the stage which had a table and chairs for three white-robed priests and a green-robed one. An orchestra of violinists and hornsmen performed impressively on the side and a choir in a colour-mix of blue, red and white completed the musical ensemble.

    Two large screens presented pictorial highlights of Adadevoh’s earthly journey, which were greeted by a gripping contemplative silence from the crowd. Her childhood years, growing up, her graduation from medical school in red gown and cap with scroll in hand, her wedding, motherhood, family life and social life, rolled out in photos before attentive and sorrowful eyes.

    “There is no doubt that her death is hurtful and painful,” said the priest who delivered the homily.

    “She sacrificed her life,” he stressed, “and saved the country from an uncontrollable disaster”; but, he added, “she was not an accidental heroine.” He pointed out: “Sacrifice was her second nature and character.”  In his view, she had “a glorious exit” in the truest sense of the phrase, different from the clichéd use of the expression.

    The tribute session was revealing. Dr. Bode Karunwi, her mate in primary school and medical college, spoke about their 50-year friendship and called her “a faithful friend” in addition to being “a first-class physician.” It was Dr. Efunbo Dosekun who provided a penetrating glimpse of her final moments as she struggled with EVD while quarantined. Dosekun described their last interaction “before she slipped into coma.” In a moving narration, she painted a picture of how she had to speak to Adadevoh through the window because of quarantine regulations. She said Adadavoh had told Sawyer: “I won’t let you go because you would spread this virus far and wide.” Significantly, a Havard University medical professor whose tribute was read on the occasion touchingly said he hoped “Nigeria will one day reflect on her heroism and sacrifice in containing a deadly epidemic.”  So far, figures released by the World Health Organisation (WHO) indicate that eight people have died of EVD out of 21 cases.

    Adadevoh’s death was especially pathetic because she was, ironically, a victim of her professionalism, dedication to work and concern for the sick. A family member was quoted as saying, “She was not on duty on the day Mr. Sawyer was brought to the hospital, but she responded to the emergency. She left what she was doing to save a life.”

    Her commendably rare demonstration of respect for the Hippocratic Oath of her profession was noted by the Lagos State Commissioner for Health, Dr. Jide Idris. Following her death, he said of her role: “She it was who took the initiative to intimate the ministry concerning the index case; and substantially to her credit, the moderate containment achieved we owe to her and her colleagues.” Speaking of containment efforts, it was reported that Adadevoh had to “physically restrain” the infected patient from escaping from the hospital after he had been diagnosed with EVD.

    It is impossible to build scenarios or to imagine the scale of the public health crisis that would most likely have developed in the country in the absence of the thorough diagnostic efforts and a firm application of safety measures and standards, without a huge sense of gratitude to Adadevoh and others who worked with her in the management of Sawyer’s case.  There is no doubt that the professional intervention of Adadevoh and other health workers greatly reduced the  high possibility of a wide-spread dispersal of the virus, which  causes a haemorrhagic fever that can kill infected people in a week, although patients reportedly begin to show symptoms within three weeks of infection.

    “Our tribute to her is our school song,” said an old girl of Queen’s School, Ede/Ibadan, Adadevoh’s alma mater, and the alumnae gave an enthusiastic rendition of the school song to end the chain of tributes. “Pass on the Torch”, they sang, in reference to the school motto.

    It is heartwarming that Adadevoh’s torch will be kept burning by a newly founded organisation, the Dr. Ameyo Stella Adadevoh Health Trust, which has been set up in honour of “her life of service to profession, community and humanity.” The source of the information announced that   “it will be a professionally run charity” dedicated to her ideals; and there was an approving applause at Harbour Point. He gave a contact email address: drasatrust@gmail .com.

    Before her death, Adadevoh, 57, had worked for 21 years at First Consultants Medical Centre, Obalende, Lagos, and became the Lead Consultant Physician and Endocrinologist. Interestingly, that evening at Habour Point, those who spoke called her Ameyo, which is a Ewe name for girls meaning “Girl born on Saturday.” Also, some of them called her an angel, which suggests a guardian angel.

    In particular, the representative of the association of endocrinologists said, “Our society will pursue national recognition which she so deserves”; and the people clapped.  It is noteworthy that a new petition on Change.org is asking the government to “honour the memory of Adadevoh with a National Posthumous Award”.  However, such consideration should apply not only to her. A nurse at the same hospital also died from EVD. Those who paid the ultimate price while carrying out their duties and saved many lives from Ebola even without having contact with them deserve credit.  A grateful country should reward their heroic self-sacrifice.

  • ‘I live a double life — angel by day, hustler by night!’ (7)

    ‘I live a double life — angel by day, hustler by night!’ (7)

    Despite the opposition from my friends, my wedding plans with Ron went on smoothly. The date was fixed about six months after our engagement so we could have enough time to make plans for both the traditional marriage and church wedding.

    I happily threw myself into the arrangements with Ron’s full support. As the day drew closer, I looked forward to the new phase in my life. It would be a totally new experience for me, sharing my life with just one man instead of many as I had been doing for so long. I didn’t feel too bad about giving up my past life, knowing I was exchanging it for something much better.

    After Ron proposed, I stopped doing ‘runs’. Jacques was the only guy from my hustling days that I still saw occasionally as I liked him so much and he had been so good to me. But I planned ending things with him after the wedding as I wanted to be faithful to my darling Ron.

    One day, Ron and I were at his home discussing the venue for the reception and guest list when he suddenly held my hand and stated:

    “Babe, I’m so looking forward to our wedding day which will be the happiest day of my life! I can’t wait for the day!”

    “Me too, honey!” I replied and hugged him tightly. I was so happy at the way my life had turned out, despite my sordid past and I thanked God every day for bringing a man like Ron to help turn my life around.

    About a month before the wedding, Ron invited a few close friends and business associates of his to a pre-wedding dinner. It was his way, he explained of introducing as well as ‘showing off’ his bride-to-be to them.

    On the evening of the dinner which was held at a top restaurant in the city, I wore a new dress I had bought on one of my recent trips abroad and had my hair and make-up done professionally. Ron said I had never looked more beautiful.

    “Wow, you look stunning! My friends will all be envious of me when they see you,” he declared as he came up to kiss me.

    “Hey, mind my lipstick!” I said, turning so his kiss landed on my cheek.

    He laughed and taking my hand, we walked out of the house to the car.

     

     Meeting Monique

    A few of our guests had arrived when we got to the restaurant and Ron introduced me to them. Some had come with their partners- either girlfriends or wives-and I stood with them, chatting and getting acquainted while our men exchanged banters.

    Later, we were settling down at our table when another guest came in. He was Desmond, a childhood friend of my fiancé. With him was Monique, someone I knew from my past.

    To say I was surprised to see her there was putting it mildly. I almost lost my appetite and the good mood I was in all evening. I however composed myself and pretended as if we had never

    met before. She did likewise and was cool towards me.

    After dinner, Ron and some of the men were at the bar having drinks and making plans for the rest of the evening. Someone suggested we should all head to a niteclub nearby owned by a top musician in the country. I was not in the mood for dancing though. I had an important issue to trash out. I went up to Monique and made a sign towards the restroom.

    “What are you doing here?” I demanded immediately we got there.

    She ignored my words and instead said:

    “You have really done well for yourself, Vanessa. Congratulations once again on your engagement. Lucky you!”

    “Thanks,”I stated impatiently. “But that’s not why I called you here! What happened to you? I thought you were in London!” I added.

    She shrugged then said:

    “Things didn’t work out as planned. The guy who processed my travelling papers was a fraudster. My visa turned out to be fake and I was turned back at the airport in London. I met Desmond two months ago and we have been dating since. So, here I am! It was just last week someone told me you were engaged but I never knew it was to my guy’s friend. It’s a small world!”

    Monique and I went back a long way to our days at school. We had started out doing ‘runs’ and other crazy things together until two years ago when she had a misunderstanding with Bibi over a client. She left our group in anger and had gone solo. Then about a year ago, we heard she had relocated to the U.K and we had lost touch with her. Until now.

    “Babe, I’m happy for you, o! At least, one of us is doing something right for once,” she noted, smiling. Then, drawing close, she whispered: “Does your fiancé know about your past life?”

    I shook my head.

    “I have not told him anything,” I replied.

    “Good. What he does not know won’t hurt. The past should stay where it belongs- in the past! And I assure you, my lips are sealed!” she said, placing a finger across her heavily painted lips. “But it’s on one condition. I want to be one of your bridesmaids!” she declared.

    I was not too keen on the idea as I believed the more distance I kept from friends from my past, the better for me. It was because of that that Bibi and Sheila (both bridesmaids) were the only ones in my group that I allowed to play any active role in my wedding as they could be trusted to keep my secret.

    For the sake of peace I agreed to her request.

    We joined the others shortly after and headed to the niteclub.

    It was quite late that night when Ron and I drove home. He wanted to stay longer at the club with his friends but I told him I was tired and needed to go home and rest.

    “Hope you had a nice time with my friends,” Ron asked when we got to his house and prepared for bed.

    “Yes, sweet. It was fun.”

    Apart from seeing Monique again, the evening had turned out well. His friends had received me warmly and complimented Ron on his choice of a bride.

    “You seem to like my friend, Desmond’s girlfriend,” he noted as he stretched out on the bed. I was sitting at the dressing table removing my make-up with a cleansing pad. I turned to stare at him.

    “What do you mean by that?” I queried.

    “I observed you chatting with her most of the evening as if you’ve known each other for long. Have you two met somewhere before?” he said.

    “No. She’s just a friendly girl. She was asking about the wedding, the design of my gown, who will be doing my make-up and other stuff. That’s all,” I replied. I got up to join him in bed.

    “Women! You love nothing but to talk about clothes, shoes, bags and whatnot!” he said.

    “And what do you guys talk about when you are together?” I said with a sneer.

    “Serious issues. Business, politics, the world economy…” he noted.

    I picked up a pillow and hit him with it.

    “Liar! You talk about women!” I said. He laughed, grabbed my arms and kissed me.

    ***

    It was two weeks before we were to travel to my hometown for the traditional marriage ceremony. Some months before, Ron and I had gone to visit my family so I could formally introduce him to them. They had all been happy to see him and welcomed him warmly into the family.

    “I’m so glad to have finally met the young man who changed my daughter’s mind about marriage. Before you came along, she never wanted to settle down despite all my efforts. You are welcome my son!” were my mother’s first words on our arrival home.

    “Ah! Mum! Why do you want to expose me like this?” I had said, grumpily.

    “Keep quiet! Is it not the truth?” she had countered, turning to my Dad for support.

    Ron had laughed and said:

    “I must be her God-ordained husband then. That’s the reason she had to wait so long!” My parents laughed along with Ron but I did not find it funny.

    Two weeks before our trip home, I was in our bedroom upstairs taking a nap when Ron returned home from work.

    I could hear him calling me downstairs so I put on a blouse over my jeans trousers and went down to join him.

    He was standing in the middle of the living room. With him was his friend Desmond. I was about to embrace Ron when I saw the grim look on his face and that of his friend…

     To be continued

     

    What next? Join us next Saturday for the concluding part of Vanessa’s story. It’s a must read!

    Names have been changed to protect Vanessa’s identity and other individuals in the story.

    Send comments/suggestions to 08023201831(sms only), psaduwa@yahoo.com or psaduwa007@gmail.com

  • ‘I live a double life — angel by day, hustler by night!’ (5)

    ‘I live a double life — angel by day, hustler by night!’ (5)

    Having  made up my mind on what to do, I swung into action. I began making traveling arrangements with an agent Bibi introduced me to.

    Two weeks before I was to travel out of the country, my mother came visiting. She had informed me about the visit some time ago but it had skipped my mind until she called me on phone to tell me she was coming in two days time.

    I called Sasha and had a talk with her.

    “My mother is coming this weekend. You know what that means. You have to behave- no drinking and smoking in the house while she’s here. And tone down your dressing and make-up as well. Those your false eye lashes look like caterpillar legs. Get rid of them! I don’t want her to get the impression that my housemate is a slut!” I said firmly.

    She eyed me and gave a short laugh.

    “So! Am I not one? And you nko? You are no reverend sister yourself!” she countered, laughing.

    “Cut that out, my friend! This is no time for jokes! My Mum doesn’t know what I do for a living and I want to keep it so. She is a very conservative and religious person. She’s even a deaconess in her church. Imagine the shame and embarrassment it will cause her and the family if her church members hear about my escapades- that Deaconess Martha’s daughter is a high class prostitute. I love my Mum very much and I want to spare her that humiliation,” I said. I wagged a finger at her, warning her to behave and act like a good girl or…

    “You will kick my fat butt out of here!” she concluded for me, laughing again.

    I smiled then. That was one of the things I liked about Sasha- she was a fun person who took things in her stride and hardly ever got angry. The only time I had ever seen her lose her cool was when a client failed to pay her the exact amount they had agreed on. Then, her bitchy, nasty side would surface and I bet you, it’s not a good sight to behold.

    Anyway, my Mum finally came and for the one week she stayed with us, we were very well behaved especially Sasha. Her long Brazilian weave that reached up to her waist was replaced by a short wig that made her look very young and innocent looking. She wore minimal make-up and her clothes were more demure than her usual outlandish dress style. I did the same too and hid the sexy and revealing clothes I often wore.

    In the mornings, both of us would dress up in suits- trousers or skirts- looking like those banker ladies or any of the corporate ladies in town who work in offices. We would pretend as if we were going to work.

    “See you later, Mum,” I kissed her on the cheek, on the first working day of her arrival.

    “Alright my dear. Come home early o! You these Lagos people and night waka! Always coming home late from work!” she said.

    As soon as we left the house, we headed to Bibi’s house which was not far from where we lived.

    “Babe, how long will you keep up this pretence, this double life,” Sasha enquired as we drove off.

    I turned to give her a searching look.

    “Forever if possible. She can’t find out about my lifestyle. It would kill her,” I replied.

    She shrugged and gazed at her image in the car mirror.

    “God! I look like crap. This your little make-up rule is not funny o! I can barely recognise myself! she grumbled, bringing out her large make-up bag to apply more lipstick to her mouth.

    Sasha was right; she really looked different. Gone was the usual heavy layer of make-up, fake lashes and nails, long weaves and other beauty aids she and our group loved so much.

    She now looked more natural and even in my view prettier than when she was in her full get up.

    We spent the whole day at Bibi’s place just hanging out. By evening, we returned to the house, looking as if we had just closed from a hard day’s work at the office. That was our routine for the one week my Mum visited.

     

    A mother’s advice

    The night before my Mum was to return home, she called me into her room.

    “Doris, my dear,” she began, calling me by my given name, which the rest of my family called me with. “I will be returning home tomorrow but I just want to let you know that your father and I are very proud of you. We also appreciate all the support you have been giving the family. At such a young age, you have taken up the responsibility of training your younger brother, David in a private university. I know it’s not easy but my prayer for you is that God will continue to bless and prosper you, that you will keep getting promotion at your place of work. All your hardwork will not be in vain,” she prayed.

    “Amen!” I intoned, wondering if she would pray so fervently for me if she knew my source of income. David was the last born in the family and the only one left in school. I had two older brothers and a sister, Mary, the first born who was married with two kids.

    My mother was still speaking.

    “But my daughter, there’s one more thing you need to do. You are already 28 years old and at the prime of womanhood. This is the time you need to bring a suitor home to your father and I for assessment, so you can settle down,” she noted.

    I looked at her, frowning slightly.

    “Mum, I’m not ready for marriage now o! I’m too busy with my job,” I told her.

    “I know. But your job can’t give you children! I know most of you young women of today especially the career ones like you don’t take marriage seriously; you feel marriage is bondage, tying yourself to one man. But as your mother, I will advice you to reconsider and think seriously about settling down. You see, a single woman in our society is seen as a boat without a captain and as you know, every boat needs a captain to steer it to safety. A woman needs guidance and protection which a man can give. So think about it, my dear,” she said, patting me on the shoulder.

    Then she added: “By the way, who was that young man that came to see you the other day, the one you were talking with outside the gate?”

    “That was a colleague at the office. He brought my damaged laptop which he had helped me fix. Why do you ask, Mum?” I wondered. The guy in question was a client, one of the few I allowed to visit me at home. But I could not tell my Mum that, of course.

    “I thought he was your boyfriend or fiancé,” she stated.

    “I’m not engaged so he’s not my fiancé,” I said.

    “Then get one and bring him to your father and I!” she insisted, getting up from the bed and heading for the bathroom.

    It was not the first time my Mum had spoken to me on the issue of marriage. But I had never taken her words seriously until now. Settling down was the last thing on my mind especially with the type of ‘work’ I did. But since I was planning to ‘retire’ anyway, getting married in the future did not seem such a bad idea. It was part of the things I needed to do to reform myself.

    On the day of my trip abroad, Sasha drove me to the airport.

    “Don’t forget to buy the items I told you about,” she said as we drove past the busy Oshodi area of town and headed towards the airport road.

    “You want me to buy all those stuff for you. How much did you give me?” I countered.

    “Ha, Vanessa! Am I not your friend again? So, you can’t even buy a few gifts for your friend from Dubai out of all that money Jacques gave you! Stingy girl,” she said.

    “And you, you have long throat!” I told her and she laughed.

    That trip turned out to be a turning point in my life. It was on the trip I met Ron, who would later have such a profound effect on my life…

     

    To be continued

    Names have been changed to protect Vanessa’s identity and other individuals in the story.

    Send comments/suggestions to 08023201831(sms only), psaduwa@yahoo.com or psaduwa007@gmail.com

  • From an angel to a two-timing bitch

    IT was one of the worst periods in his life. He tried so hard to forget it but the memory of the events in the past one week just kept coming back. His life appeared to have come to a standstill and he just had to move on and forget the trauma he was going through at the moment.

    So what really happened to this Romeo? you wonder. Well, he was really angry with his beloved queen, the angel of his life and he beat her to a point of coma. How could he have done a thing like that, wasn’t he supposed to be a perfect gentleman? “Yes, I can’t even believe that I did all this myself. I don’t know what came over me at that point but the truth of the matter is that I was so angry about this betrayal.”

    He continued his story: “This is a girl that I brought out of the gutters. She practically had nothing and I loved her so much. Meanwhile she was not in love with me at all. Pretentiously, she behaved as if I was the love of her life and led me on like a goat. I trusted her so much and foolishly spent my time and resources on her.”

    Five years down the line, he expected his angel to reciprocate the emotional gestures and keep the promise she made at the beginning. “I started noticing that there was another guy in her life and I was shocked. I thought it was the guy who was hanging around her and confronted the fellow twice.”

    Obviously, the guy told his queen and it was time for her to cross carpet. “One morning she called me and said that there was a confession that she wanted to make. Of course, at this point I already knew where she was going and I listened to everything without saying a word. Foolish bitch! However, I told myself that I was going to teach her a lesson, something she would never forget.”

    Betrayal? Well, there has been so many tales of betrayals in the past and there would continue to be tales of betrayals especially from those we gave so much to and expected so much from. But the lessons to learn here is that nobody is beyond or above the betrayal triangle. Once you find yourself on this side of the emotional divide, then you must summon the courage to move on with what is left.

    Once you move on then you can start to plan for a new beginning. Don’t lose hope, love may just be a stone throw away. At this point, it is better to pitch your emotional tent with someone who can make you laugh again. It can be exciting when every interaction you have with him makes you wonder what it would be like to date him or her.

    You also need to be sure it is love before you end up in another sinking emotional ship. Sometimes, what the other person wants is just a casual thing while you want a serious and deeper one. Will he ever ask you out? Should you make the first move and ask him? Is he shy? Is he waiting for some kind of “signal” from you?

    What does it mean when a guy acts like this, and what can you do when you’re attracted to a man who just won’t make the first move? If you are really keen you can stretch your luck a bit further and see if you win this heart over. You can take things beyond just a casual friendship with a lot of flirting to discover something a little more “real.”

    Of course, there can be many reasons a man will flirt and act “interested” in you, but never ask for your number, call, or make plans to go on a real “date” with you:

    One reason may be that he’s actually involved with someone else, and he doesn’t want to be honest about that, but he enjoys your company and thinks you’re a great woman. He just doesn’t want to “go there” with you.

    Maybe he’s attracted to you physically, but doesn’t yet feel that gut-level of emotional attraction to want to take things to the next level with you.

    Maybe he’s getting mixed signals from you…one minute he thinks you’re responding and interested, but the next minute he senses some kind of “vibe” that makes him wonder if you’d reject him if he were to ask you out.

    Sometimes, it may just be that he has his own personal reasons for not wanting to become more involved – that has nothing to do with who you are or what you say or do.

    These are all things you may have wondered about and guessed by yourself at one point. Unfortunately, unless you ask him directly, there’s no way to know for sure what’s going on.

    But there are a few things you can do to increase the likelihood that he’ll want to spend time with you alone and get to know you better. And then you can relax, create the right circumstances, and let it all work out like magic.