In a world generally believed to have become so degenerate, debauched and perverted, it is usually gratifying to see people whose thoughts, deeds and lifestyle daily exhibit nobility and strength of character. They may not necessarily be the usual newsmakers whose every action attracts the headlines of major newspapers and the bulk of airtime of electronic media. Their tribe may be in the minority. They may not be laurelled with countless wreathes and garlands of honour. For all they do, they may remain unsung and unseen for the better part of their lives. But they remain unfazed, doing what they believe in-serving humanity and doggedly pursuing their avowed intent to leave the world a better place than they met it. They are the oasis of hope in the desert of fear and despair that our world is fast turning to. An island of integrity and rectitude in the world’s sea of filth and lucre. They live by the golden rule, doing unto others what they want others do unto them; and even more.
I will be eternally grateful to the divine hands that connected me to one such person, Ebun Olabisi Kalejaiye, a physician with bias for surgery, who exited our world on the 13th of April, 2016. I came to know him within the last two years of his stay on earth but those two years of friendship with a sweet-scented personality like him has really had a life-long positive impact on my life. The wide generational gap between us notwithstanding (he was old enough to be my father) our thoughts and views on so many issues of national and global importance synced and meshed so well that in no time we bonded and became what in Yoruba is referred to as korikosun (friends who could not go to bed without seeing each other).
His was a heart so large for all to have a place-the high, the lowly, the young, the old, the sophisticated and even the rustic. Like the poet, Sam Walter Foss, Ebun refused to be a hermit living in a place of self-content. He refused to be a star dwelling in a fellowless firmament. Rather, he chose to build his house by the side of the road where the race of men goes by and he became a friend to all; rejoicing with travellers that rejoiced and weeping with strangers that moaned. He exemplified John Ruskin’s dictum that the true reward for a man’s toil is not what he gets for it but what he becomes of it. Ebun kalejaiye’s choice to serve humanity might not have brought him into stupendous wealth, but he surely became fulfilled in it.
A product of Igbobi College, Lagos and Oxford University, UK, Ebun Kalejaiye’s passion and pursuit of knowledge was legendary. He read and researched into diverse fields of human endeavour; including Yoruba corpus of knowledge and divination, odu ifa as well as the Muslim holy book of Koran. Little wonder he was always at home discussing any topic under the sun with an uncommon intellectual depth. He would analyse and critique the works of most social and political philosophers of global renown, whether ancient or contemporary, with enthralling eclecticism.
But Ebun Kalejaiye was not all about scholarship and intellectualism. He was as sociable as he was scholarly and philosophical. One big vacuum thrown up for his friends by his unexpected demise is finding a new venue and host for their weekly ritual of gathering at his house in ogudu GRA for the main purpose of disporting themselves over food and drinks while they discussed national issues and relived experiences and escapades of their youthful past. The big question now is who hosts and finances the ‘Wednesday fellowship’ with the exit of Ebun? And perhaps another one! When a new host and financier is found, will he be as genial, affable and equally hail-fellow-well-met as Ebun Kalejaiye?
On the family front, both immediate and extended, he was never found wanting. A very dutiful and caring husband and father, he demonstrated unaffected love and care to both wife and children. All phone conversations with wife and children were usually preceded and concluded with pet names, banters and wisecracks. To the extended family, Ebun was the strong rallying point and bridge across several divides to whom all could relate without any reservation. A true homeboy that never got disconnected from his root, he maintained an unbroken link with his Ijebu Mushin homestead. The name of his hospital, Ameso and even the password to his wifi device, odunkuru, bore the imprint of his Ijebu Mushin Royal family ancestry. As a committed Anglican and strong believer in God, he was a member of Parish Church Council of St. Mary’s Anglican Church in his native Ijebu Mushin. Till his death, he also served in the finance cum fund raising committee of the church.
There is certainly so much to say about this rare gem than space can permit but let it be said here that my mourning is not for Ebun Kalejaiye. I mourn not for him but for myself and many others who will miss his true friendship. I mourn because of his friends who will miss the Wednesday fellowship at 1, Muri Folami Street, Ogudu GRA. I mourn for his wife and children. Who again will call them those tickling monikers with the same liveliness of their husband and father? I mourn for the countless life battered lot that never ceased to seek and secure relief from him. I mourn for myself because my true korikosun is gone. Now I must learn to go to bed without those hearty discussions of ours that usually served as a sleep sweetener. But as I mourn, moan and groan, a deluge of posers flood the heart. Why does the destructive pest deny one the enjoyment of a well mature kolanut? Why do the well-trimmed, ramrod straight trees never escape the hewer’s axe while crooked ones stand? Why are good-natured ones like Ebun Kalejaiye not allowed to stay with us for so, so long? Why would one whose name is Kalejaiye (stay and enjoy life) not be allowed to enjoy life for as long as he wished? An answer now saunters into the mind. The heavens were missing an angel sent here. They pronounced his earthly task done and they recalled him to their side.
Ademola Adegoke
