For Baba Wasiu : O di gba.........

It was immediately after my PhD defence examination which may or may not have taken place… I realized there were new horizons on this Veterinary stratosphere, spaces I had yet to conquer and which held my interest. I hurriedly facilitated admission to pursue the College of Veterinary Surgeons of Nigeria Fellowship Programme that would enable me become a Consultant Radiologist and decided I would give it my all. Sadly, only the Zaria center had the Surgery specialty of which, Diagnostic Imaging was a sub-specialty, my specialty.

I daresay I did not know what that meant at the time, I only realized I would have to make a few journeys northward and I was so distressed I spent an entire day walking the corridor at work seeking reassurances from all who had gone ahead. Succor came from many who tried to downplay the hazards, chief among which was the insecurity.

I determined to go if I got a word from Big G and so promptly commenced bombarding the gates of heaven with requests for instruction, direction, something, anything that would make the trip a fait accompli….I had not prayed more than 3days when I got a ‘visual word’. I know not if it was a vision or whatever, this business of communication between Big G and I transcend words. I ‘saw’ Dr Leigh and I graduating, mayhaps this was because the admission facilitation had involved both of us, and the word of assurance was that no harm would come to us in our going and coming. This gave me a measure of peace and also gave me some measure of tension whenever I had to travel and it was not in company of Dr Leigh….

Anyway, this was how we met Baba Wasiu….he owned a Volkswagen car, an estate that sufficed for all 4 of us who travelled as a group, Drs Ozegbe, Olaifa, Leigh and I, the only female in the group. Between August and this month, we have made not less than 7 trips to Zaria with Baba Wasiu as our designated driver. He is was knowledgeable as far as the road from Ibadan through Oyo, Ogbomoso, Ilorin, Bode Sadu (?!) Jebba, Mokwa, Gada (our feeding stop), Tegina (where someone asked me ‘where are you?’ and I did not know), Kaduna and then Zaria goes.  

He did not like safety belts, and he knew all the places where the FRSC men stayed and would alert whoever sat in front with him to wear the safety belts as he approached their haunts. He gave money when pressed upon, from said FRSC, to those vigilante groups in Kwara state and even the Road Transport Workers who ensured compliance with Union rules. He cursed a lot and I don’t mean English swear words, I mean ‘epe’ Yoruba style. If you pointed out some young children of whom there was abundance along the route either begging for money or scrounging for leftover food and sustenance, he would say, ah! ‘Omo ale ma lawon eleyun’ at which I cringed but was becoming accustomed to and so I steeled myself before each round. He was actually helping me curb MY swearing.

I learnt he had two wives (at least) one each at each end of his journeys and he seemed a caring husband who brought things home from every journey. One trip, it was yam, another, ‘wara’ which from his interaction with the sellers, suggested he bought frequently because they would ask during each trip if he was not going to buy.

I also learnt he was resourceful in his business; he was supposed to take his turn in the garage but hardly ever did. He had a long list of clients who called him up for his services all over the country and who reached flexible arrangements with him to enable them make their journey in comfort. On days when we did not use Baba Wasiu, it was mostly because we were not a complete set and so we either went to the garage to get a vehicle with the attendant wait or so.

During the last trip which was a few days ago, he talked of his plans, to complete a house he was building, showed us the area where it was (he passed before I could get my glasses out so I know the area but not the house). He made plans to buy building blocks, bring steel doors (which are very popular in the north) from the north, (he had a friend who drove a truck that would bring them down FOC) and finish his abode. 

He was a dutiful son, it seemed, because during this last trip also, he kept in constant touch by phone with someone who gave him updates on his mother (I think) who was poorly and he wanted her brought to Ibadan so he could take her to the hospital. Another call ensured that the hospital date was confirmed.

On one of the trips to Zaria, I remember catching him dozing a couple of times and because all the others were also either asleep or close, I engaged him in meaningless conversation. I almost talked my head off and I usually try for some meditation on these trips, but whoo! Did I talk during that trip?! I eventually confessed why I was yakking when we neared Zaria and he of course denied. 

I heard Baba Wasiu died today, on a journey to Kaduna which was his usual base. He usually drove us to Zaria because we paid a little extra. It shocked and gutted me. Not because I think people are invincible, or anything but…….well, extrapolate with me…….I meant to write a happy remembrance of him. I did, but I am not happy. I am very sad. I wanted to cry but the tears have not come. I am just very pained.

I shared my concern about travelling during this time of the year, not because I believe the bunkum about increased activities of demons and other Nigerian myths, it’s just the increased intensity with which people pursue goals and how less careful people are at this time of the year that worried me. It informed my telling anyone who cared to listen that this was my final trip of the year as I was averse to being on the roads at this time.

Also, just this morning, a friend on Twitter shared anecdotes about some of the staff, mostly drivers, he had when he worked in Nigeria. I made a statement which I believe to be truth, ‘too many of those who serve us are our protectors, watching Merlin convinced me of this long held theory!’ I am just grateful for the time he ‘served’ me and I believe, protected me!

Baba Wasiu, sun re o, to ba de orun, ko se orun re, nkan ti won ban je l’orun ni ko ma ba won je oh!

Adieu…….