By Ifemelu Ofuma Atuanya
Iroko Ogidi, 26 years have lapsed since you wrote a befitting epitaph for my late father, Engr Udemezue Atuanya (former Perm Sec/Controller of Works in the defunct East Central State) who attained immortality ahead of you. Crafted with clinical precision, this epitaph remains a tonic for my soul. An evergreen and never ending one; deeply resonating the profound legacy of my late dad fondly called Okigbo. Dad was your friend, your soul-mate, your confidant, your kinsman and above all, your in-law (Mrs Agnes Adaosodi Achebe nee Atuanya was his first cousin). Yours with him therefore was an enviable affinity, far from a quicksand union. A friendship in which you proved to be a long distance runner.
Dike Ogidi (the grand one), now that your years have expired and you have gone the way of all mortals, it is obvious you cannot transit unsung and uncelebrated in the hearts of those who adored you. Hence, as the nudging and the prompting of affinity beckoned on me to pen this piece, I was, to say the least, star-struck, fully confronted by your larger than life image too huge for a mere narration. But I leverage on the fact that this is only a lullaby to bid you goodnight as you begin your eternal slumber in forever land.
Anya fulu ugo (the unique one), you were a rare breed of humanity; a man of priestly disposition and quiet dignity, an embodiment of deep thoughts and little talk. You were unapologetically your own person; simple and unassuming, without airs or chips on your shoulders. You were truly a breed apart, a locus classicus of uncommon carriage and decorum. Like the biblical city set on a hill, completely devoid of a hiding place, you were a world brand and the headline of history! Your life was neither a cameo appearance nor a wink in the dark. You were never in the backburners or backwaters of life. You didn’t tiptoe through life. You were not a side attraction, mba nu! (No!) You played mainstream.
The highpoint of your life was your scholastic profundity. You were the grandmaster and presiding deity (Agaba Idu) of the literary world. You were not just a man of letters but of profound letters; the herald of African literary Renaissance. Whether a broad stroke or a short take, you never failed to pen a masterpiece, such that re-wrote the destiny of the entire black race beyond comprehension.
Your scholastic wizardry utterly demystified racial stereotypes and became the ultimate game changer in the condescending view points and warped consciousness of colonial writers like Joseph Conrad (Heart of Darkness), who felt the Ebony race is savage and less human. Suffice it to say that your literary fecundity syndicated the caveat that Africans must not be judged by colour but by contents, lending a vigilant voice to the legacy of Martin Luther King (Jnr). Little wonder the superb articulation of your skill and sagacity caught the attention of the African living legend, Nelson Mandela that he referred to you as the writer in whose company the prison walls came down.
Agaba Idu, in life you were a colossus nay in death a colossal loss. Not just to the black race but to Ogidi in particular. More so since you sustained a flamboyant banner for her when it seemed her glory had departed (Ichabod). For once upon a time in the history of this country, Ogidi was a dynasty of icons. What with the rare breed of Ogidi engineers that called the shots at the then Ministry of Works and Transport, defunct East Central State. I am talking about Udemezue Atuanya, etc. Oh! Ogidi lnwelle, what gallery and galaxy of super stars you suckled, what an enviable pedigree!
But alas Ogidi Idemili, it is no longer uhuru for you. At some point in your golden history you began to nose dive. Like a missing chord in a grand Orchestra, you began to pale into obscurity. You made a wide berth from the frontlines and headlines of Nigerian history. What a far cry of yester years! So apt for this scenario is the indelible and highly redeeming question of my dexterous and dynamic former governor, Mr Peter Obi: Is Anambra State cursed or are we the cause? And so do I ask: Is Ogidi now cursed or are we the cause? Have we overdrawn our account in the history bank of this country? Why are we no longer upstream and mainstream? Why?
But as I pondered with apostolic sobriety, my intuition is deafened by the sound of abundance of rain. Yes, in my mind’s eye, I see thick clouds aligning and realigning to drench Ogidi with the double honour of former and latter rains, such that Ogidi will yet again reap a bountiful harvest. Like the proverbial phoenix, Ogidi shall rise from the ashes of her past glory to dizzy heights of prominence. Breaking forth like waters, she will yet again break ground and break through to redeem her star-studded years in all spheres of endeavour. Already, it is morning yet on creation day for you! Post Nubia phoebus! Oh! What a digression. Chinualumogu, are you still online? I only made a brief detour to make a case for the diming destiny of Ogidi Inwelle, our common patrimony. More so at your demise.
As my ink dries on this piece and I begin to bid you a final goodbye, I must not fail to mention that controversy barely parts company with Patron Avatars like you. And so it was, akin to the deified African masquerade that does not exit an outing without erupting violent clouds of dust, deafening ripples (not likely to evaporate in a hurry) ushered your final departure. What with the raw umbrage and rabid vituperations that confronted your final offering to humanity. Or better still, the last testament of your literary exploits titled: There Was A Country. Not a talk in the margins, this best seller is so pungent and penetrating; belching and pulsating with controversy. But as the hullabaloo raged, you meandered through the landmines of verbal artillery and veered into eternal glory!
Then I wondered, could this book be Pandora’s Box? Has it caused things to fall apart and anarchy unleashed upon the earth? Capital No! It is simply the parting shot of an ardent marksman. The signature tune and sign off phrase of a departing legend. Oh! How you stirred the hornet’s nest, ruffled feathers, rattled nerves and bowed out when the ovation was highest! What a clinical finishing!
Whether demonised or canonised, lauded or loathed, it remains an undisputed fact of global history that you were truly a genius! You are gone, but you rocked the red carpet of history in no mean way; making full proof that death is not the greatest loss in life but what dies inside a man when he lives and/or what dies with a man when he dies. You were none of such; you died empty, totally discharging all your potentials. To wit a clear handover of baton to upstarts in the relay race of life. Good finish!
Chinualumogu, well done and fare thee well as you journey to the land of eternal consequence, where you will definitely walk tall among our ancestors. Na gboo! (Fare thee well) Iroko Ogidi! And to the living, may we aptly be reminded that we are all transient toys in this fleeting game called life. Now that your remains have been gracefully lumbered to dust, I cannot affirm any less that truly, there was a man!
*Barr Atuanya, daughter of late Engr Udemezue Atuanya of Umuosodi, Nkwelle Ogidi, Anambra State, attorney, published author, sociologist and public speaker, can be reached via mail: ashestobeautyng@gmail.com