It was about 05.30 p.m. when I finally sauntered into Noreen Avenue. I had been lost in the vastness of Benin City since about midday when my bus arrived the motor park at Akpakpava Road. I had no directions and no address on me. And with no technology for communication in Nigeria of 1987, I was completely lost. It was only after a long period of roaming the streets and roads that I finally located Noreen Avenue which was the only name I remembered. Without an address, I knew it would be very difficult locating Uncle Peace’s residence? I was already contemplating passing the night in an open stall in one of the markets in town. And that was exactly when I saw you on a bicycle in company of your brother, Nnaemeka. I never met you in person before then. I had only seen polaroid pictures of both of you in London as toddlers. But the smile on your face was unmistakable. It was a rare smile as shattering in life as it was in picture. Instantly, I knew it was you. “Enyinna!” I called out.  You stopped and looked up at me. The smile broadened. It was really you, and that was in March 1987. You were just 8.

We’ve been close ever since. I saw you through secondary school and frequently came around when you were in the University. Although you loved to keep a low profile of yourself, you were a very friendly and compassionate brother and friend. The greatest effect you had on people was your easygoing friendliness. Your presence exuded peace and friendliness. Your bright, wide, confident and friendly smile was extremely comforting and infectious. It never left your face until that day that I lifted the shroud at the accident center to confirm that it was you that really lay so low. I held my tears because I was too shocked and didn’t know where to begin. We’ve lost the rarest of gems.

You began to seek God at a very tender age. It was your days in secondary school. You became an evangelical Christian and had an in-depth knowledge of the bible at such a young age. I do not know to what extent you kept this great fire of the Lord burning in your later life, but I believe the gift of God is without repentance and the Lord surely kept his light alive in you despite the judgement the world would pass.

Later in Lagos, I remember I tried severally to speak to you about many things and especially marriage. Like many busy young men in Lagos, you were seldom available to your loved ones while you worked at NNPC. You said you were thinking seriously about marriage and would deal with it soon. I always had a feeling you were taking your time with marriage because of the not-too-pleasant picture of marital life which your puerile mind painted of the turbulent conjugal experience of your parents. I assured myself you would get over it. I didn’t know this would never be.

In the morning of Thursday, 28th December 2023, while dressing for work, I got a barrage of calls that you were involved in an accident. I was alarmed. Something in me told me all was not well. I began to pray. I immediately got on my way to the Lagos State Accident and Emergency Center where my worst fears were confirmed. There are no witnesses to what really happened to you. The first responders were the LASAEC personnel who picked you and your belongings from the road in the night of 27th December. They believe it was a hit-and-run situation. Your belongings were not tampered with and your injuries were head injuries. So, we accept it was a hit-and-run accident. God alone knows everything and surely knows what exactly happened.

It’s well. May God grant you eternal rest my dear brother.

Izu Nnaji is a free-lance writer from Nigeria.