A Heart of Gratitude.

In 2017, I became one of those God in his infinite mercies allowed to mark half a century of existence.

I had purposed to make it a quiet occasion for a number of reasons. First, I did not grow up in a family where great emphasis was placed on celebrating birthdays. I never had to celebrate a birth landmark – not 16, 21, 30 or 40. Second, the last 10 years had been filled with various challenges. With the tragic loss of two close friends who were like blood brothers between May and July 2017, it was just another day to be thankful for the breath of life. Third, being out of Nigeria enabled me to avoid the funfair and fanfare of turning 50 as would have been initiated by my extended family members. As such, I just wanted a quiet opportunity to re-discover God’s purpose for keeping me alive. The only concession I made a week to the day, after my wife’s two months of ‘harassment’, was a celebratory breakfast with family members in Calgary.

What I had purposed to be a quiet, reflective and uneventful day turned out to be something else. Thanks in the first instance to my sister, Bamidele Ademola-Olateju (BAO). She had written a post many hours before I woke up announcing that I was 50. By the time I got out of bed more than 7 hours after her post, it was to meet prayers, greetings and best wishes on Facebook, via messages on Messenger and WhatsApp. I was overwhelmed. That was why my immediate response was titled ‘interim gratitude’. In the second instance, my family members in Calgary ensured I had a full day of their presence. Even though they recognised that the day was normal for me in terms of work commitment by allowing me breathing space to work from my study, they ensured I joined them later in the evening to partake in their full day of celebration.

Over the course of the last few weeks, I have had to put myself in front of a mirror, comparing the person BAO described in her post to what I know about myself. This re-examination needed to happen because I felt like I was dressed by my sister in borrowed robes, even though I know her very well as someone who is not flippant. The more I reasoned, the greater I realise that the man BAO described is the product of many hands placed by God along the pathway of life to mould and shape who I am today. God purposed my life even before I was formed in the womb. It was his great design that I should be sired by parents that gave me a foundation which day-in, day-out, I am grateful for. Growing up, my parent’s younger siblings, as well as other wards were regularly with us. As such, I benefitted from the guidance and education of uncles and aunts who then and now remained older ‘siblings’. I would take a guess that my innate gravitation to making and keeping friends much older than me took root at this early stage.

From my primary school days, I was made to realise my burden and responsibility as an older child. It became my lot to look after and look out for my younger ones. Then I went to secondary school where I was yoked in class with folks old enough to give birth to me. I do not know if I knew how to wash my hands as the proverbial Yoruba saying. All I can say is that some of those older classmates as well as some of my seniors took a liking to me and I learnt greatly from their wisdom and guidance.

My sojourn in Oyo State College of Arts and Science (OSCAS) from 1982 to 1983 was uneventful. Apart from having a few friends I had known from secondary school in the same college, I also had great teachers in Mrs Ogunba as well as the current Orangun of Oke-Ila, HRM Oba Abolarin. Nevertheless, for reason I cannot say, I did not settle well into the college. A sense of being alone in the world was complicated by the sudden tragic death of my Uncle David Ademola Ojo who was more of a biological older brother and in whose friend’s apartment I was staying. My academic performance at the end of that first year was awful. So, I opted to stay at home during the 1983/84 school year to study for my Joint Admission and Matriculation Board (JAMB) examination to get into the university.

At that point, my Dad’s threat to find me a job and cut me off his further contribution if I failed to get a university admission hanged over my head. By God’s favour and hard-work, I got admission into the University of Ife in 1984 to study International Relations. My four year sojourn was very eventful. I had wonderful lecturers that I have previously acknowledge in a different post. I met folks – classmates, seniors and juniors – who have stuck with me like biological brothers and sisters over the years, and I had great mentorship from a myriad of people.

Previous posts of mine have also touched on (1) my national youth service year as the foundation of my professional working life, (2) my transition from Nigeria into the Diaspora, (3) the trials and triumphs of life in a foreign land, (4) married life, and (5) the joy, agony and joy of fatherhood. In spite of my nature to hold on to relationships, I have come to realise that some relationships must be left behind, no matter how painful separation could be. I am grateful for those friends who have dropped in and out of my life because they provided companionship at critical moments.

To all of you on this platform reading this post, especially all those who have not set their eyes on me but took time to wish me well on BAO’s wall, may the year 2018 be a fulfilment of your hopes and aspirations.

Without mentioning names, I am eternally grateful to everyone placed along the curves of my life to develop me morally, ethically, psychologically, academically and professionally. I had a fair share of human nastiness but I can boldly say they are outweighed by the touch of human kindness I received.

In sober reflection, when I consider the unfailing love of family as well as the sacrificial fellowship of those God in his wisdom surrounded me with, my life is enriched by every one.

Eniyan l’aso mi. I Am Blessed.