Fridays have a way of concentrating the mind. And this Friday is no exception. The mind is focused on the end-point of this life-death. In the immediate sense, what has ensured this are the rather deep observations of Segun Osoba, the journalist and politician. At a gathering of his former classmates at the Methodist Boys High School, Osoba pointed out that, in a class of 60 students who passed out in 1960, around 28 of them had died.
It was yet another reminder of what ultimately awaits each and every one of us, which reminds me of the way in which doctors in 1978 or thereabouts announced the death of Anwar Sadat, the Egyptian president. As the story goes, after battling for hours in the theatre, the medics emerged from the operating room and in a way that is characteristic of doctors, as far as euphemisms go, they intoned solemnly: only God lives forever! Such indeed are the intimations of mortality whose empirical essence was captured by Osoba, when he did a tally of those among his classmates who had passed on. On reading Osoba’s deposition, I read myself into the story; did a quick take of the difference in age between myself and the journalist politician.
In the process, a comparison of sorts was effected with my own classmates. I left school some 11 years after Osoba and my reckoning was that in my own case, around one third of my own classmates had also answered the final call. Such reflections have a way of asking the dreaded question which most of us would rather not ask: Who is next?
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Incidentally, this was a question that I posed to the congregation at the recent obsequies for my late Uncle Ezekiel Ilesanmi Ogunlusi. And talking of my uncle, his was a fairly ordinary life, albeit with a number of exploits. Indeed and while he lived, he kept clear of the limelight; almost in obscurity, away from the media. But he knew Nigeria like the back of his hand, having grown up in the then Northern Nigeria. But one thing that stayed with him throughout his life was his acute consciousness about his mortality. So focused was he on this issue that he had gone as far as to purchase his burial plot, while he was still alive. Such indeed are the intimations of mortality as imbibed by him. Like I said he was virtually unknown.
But as if to indicate that such is the common lot of both unknown and known individuals; that the news also came forth, on the passage of Kenneth David Kaunda, the former Zambian president. Thus, between the unknown as embodied in my uncle and the known, Kenneth Kaunda, both have had to undergo the same fate-death.
Here, memories cannot but flood in about KK. His was a life that was almost synonymous with his country’s history. After the usual nationalist agitations, he had led the country to independence. And subsequently transformed the country into a one party system. This was at a time when the atmosphere was very conducive for this kind of political aberration.
Ultimately, however, the ecology changed and to that extent, the multiparty system became the new order. Thus it was that sometime in the nineties, he subjected himself to the will of the people on the platform of elections. He lost out, but this was certainly not the end of the road for KK, as he is fondly called. He grew into the stature of an elderly statesman such that at a time he became known as the grand old man of Zambia. But this gravitas did not wholly insulate him from the cuts and thrusts of politics and politicking.
At a point in time, he was virtually stripped of his citizenship on the grounds that he was from elsewhere. That I suppose is African politics for you. And as a Nigerian, I can view this odd situation with some familiarity. After all, during the second republic, a similar fate was visited on Alhaji Shugaba, who was regarded as a non-Nigerian on the strength of his political beliefs.
But then I digress, and so back to Kaunda. While he lived, he had to contend with his own fair share of personal tragedies. He lost a son to the dreaded disease – AIDS. Thereafter, he took up the fight against this scourge, declaring that AIDS should be fought in the same way that apartheid was contended against. This kind of observation clearly draws attention to the anti-apartheid credentials of Kaunda.
This was very much unlike his neighbour in Malawi who chose the path of collaboration. Rather, Kaunda said no. According to him, apartheid was evil and therefore must be eradicated. For those with literary interests, what is also well known about Kaunda is his famous book: Zambia Shall Be Free. Looking back, and in a Freudian way perhaps, an element of self-indictment can be observed in the title of this book. For, is Zambia free at the moment?
Certainly not, since the country shares the fate of dependence with other African countries. No thanks to a mono-cultural economy that is rooted in copper, the country continues to be mired in poverty and largely remains on the margins of the international system.
Thus Zambia’s freedom continues to be an aspirational phenomenon, some sixty years after independence. Still it must be said that KK played his own part. Very few will appreciate that KK was also something of a humour merchant. During one of the disputed US presidential elections in which the situation was looking like something coming out of Africa, KK humorously remarked that probably elections in the US can also do with electoral observers.
Now that he is gone, the world will miss this kind of laconic jibe. And you have to give it to Kaunda that his joke seemed to have virtually anticipated the last US elections and Trump the politician. And talking of the politician the mind goes back to Osoba again for his perceptive observation on the intimations of mortality. Incidentally, the motto of his high school – Non SibiSedAlis – Implicitly speaks to this all-important issue of mortality. In a more prosaic sense, this motto means: Not for us, but for others. Anybody who abides with this dictum is likely to come to terms very easily, with the intimations of mortality.
Still and despite the morbidity which appears to pervade this piece, dear reader: Happy Friday – enjoy it, while it lasts. For as clearly indicated in this piece nothing lasts forever. Ultimately, we will all go the way of Ilesanmi Ogunlusi and Kenneth Kaunda.
Prof. Soremekun, immediate past Vice Chancellor of Federal University Oye-Ekiti, is the editorial board chairman of BusinessDay
