Efere Ozako, born on January 17th, 1966 left the earth ‘in a hurry’ it seemed 47 years after. He was one of those people; I believed would ‘dodge’ death but who knew? From the time that he was a child, Efere had carved a path for himself. It was he who would stand before my father and mother and argue out a point that none of us would dare to whisper! He was sure that he wanted to be a lawyer from when he was a child. I do not recall asking what caused the spark, alas it is too late but I know one thing for sure, Efere could read, talk, analyse and empathise; all that one would expect of a lawyer. He veered off into entertainment law along the line engaging himself in creating policies for Nollywood but his first love was litigation.
It was an interesting twist that sharp-tongued Efere was a flamboyant conversationalist of great reserve. You never wanted to sit near him at a comedy show if you had not met him a few minutes before. I recall a show, a Christmas carol event that we went to together at the Civic Centre, here in Lagos. Efere started his commentary in Isoko and did he love to so speak the language! He began to ‘spin’ when my cousin Veno came in to render a song. ‘ Oh! Omote!’ ( Oh! Young lady!) He yelled as Veno sang. The lady in front of us would look back and mutter, ‘ please, turn down your voice’ This she did until Efere’s real cracks would ‘crack’ her up. By the end of the day, they were exchanging call cards. That was typical Efere.
Efere chatty and Efere reading were two different people. He ‘ate’ words; he ‘chewed’ books and just loved newspapers. He has no life without books. When he visited, he left the house always with a pile of magazines.. Time magazine was a special one. If you called Efere at night, he was most likely focused on his books and miles buried in words.
Right up till the morning of his passing, my brother, Efere lived a most ‘likely’ life, one filled with adventure, travel, laughter, mischief, noise and law. It was a full dose everything. Infact, his cup always ran over. His character defied all description because, one minute, Efere was belting out jokes and the other minute; he was slapping the keys on his ipad, totally focused. His quintessential ‘leap’ of his forefinger while he wrote always irritated my father and amazed my mother both of whom he adored. Why would anyone especially the son of two teachers hold his pen in that manner? There was nothing ‘normal’ about Efere. One minute he was arguing about Fareed Zakaria’s latest article in the Time magazine with my father, the next time, he was listening to a needy youth. The youth were his people. Efere was very keen on connecting people, networking. I called him, ‘yellow pages’.
It was he, Efere who insisted on wearing his shoes left to right till he was about 9 years old. He argued with my parents that he did not have to be like everyone else. He won his case with my most strict parents. He was socially flamboyant but reserved. A man who never gave for the camera. It is worthy of note that it was not until his death that we learnt of a donation of a piece of land to the skills centre for the blind.
Efere was sure-footed; one of those foetuses that leapt out of the womb with a pen in his hand and a wig and gown. He knew he wanted to be a lawyer from when he was a child. Once, when he was about 9 years old, he went ‘missing’. My mother was to find him at the high court in Benin, listening to proceedings, dressed in his spanking white Federal Government College, Warri school uniform. He was a reader, a scribbler, doodler and a writer. He was terribly curious. I recall how he would open all letters that came in the post for mummy or papa and just read them. When he bought bole, {roasted plantain), Efere would stretch out the creased newspaper and read.
At 8 years plus, he finished primary school. He got a scholarship; distinction, then off he went to Federal government college, Warri. I recall a particular incident. He was on suspension from FGC, Warri. ‘Papa Davis’, the British principal was sick and tired of Efere’s antiques. He was sent home. I looked ‘forward’ to him getting some trashing from my father, the ‘floggist’. Efere was suspended because he wrote a petition to P.H.Davis. He had refused to use cutlery and was constantly using his hands to eat to the chagrin of this ‘oyibo’ man. Barbaric! He must have thought of Efere. Efere went on to argue that since his ancestors used their hands to eat, he would continue the tradition.
He was a most serious character, a most intelligent lawyer. He hated to be called ‘Barrister’ but seemed to smile when he was called ‘de law!’ First he started talk-shops with, ‘ First let’s kill all the lawyers’ then this became, ‘Wetin Lawyers dey do sef?’ He was focused on making sure that people understood what law really is. He was in the forefront of putting a real structure in place for Nollywood and he will be remembered as Nigeria’s foremost entertainment lawyer.
He adored his family, loved his parents and will be constantly remembered for his mischief and jokes with siblings and friends. He was indeed a man of the people and would be remembered by many from the bole, (roasted plantain) woman that he defended for the injustice meted her to the shoemaker he built a kiosk for.
Efere who studied law at the University of Benin, practised law till his passing. Described by his colleagues at the Nigerian Bar Association as fiercely loyal, a brother and friend by the governor, Babatunde Fashola, ‘my champion’ by Dewunmi Ogunsanya, chairman of multichoice, by the honourable minister for communication and technology, Omobola Johnson as one, ‘ who exhibited a level of professionalism that earned him a nomination into the Nigerian digital migration team (Digi Team), a presidential committee responsible for guiding the nation through the transition from analogue to digital broadcasting. To my daughter, Zulu, he was a mentor taller than any. To my 86 year old father and 75 year old mother, he would never be forgotten. He was visitor to the Kenyan film festival with Professor Wole Soyinka a few years ago. The clown that he was, he announced to me, “Maero! My photo even comes before the Profs’ in the film festival brochure! See
levels!”.
For his children, Omaina and Amanesi whom he adored, he left these words on a KQ flight to Nairobi on 21st October, 2011 ‘ My fervent prayer is to leave as good a name as I was given by my father and a good memory for my children. I have not spent much time as I wished with them, but I do hope that they will, in time understand, and forgive my not always having been around.’ Chukwuemeka Joseph, his young friend sums it up,’ He hated people saying; ‘ I am planning to’…’ stop planning and start doing’ he would say. Efere lived life in a hurry; he ate fast, thought fast, wrote fast and left this earth too fast!
We as a family have lost the heart of our family. For me, I have lost my brother and life will never be the same again; a gentleman from sole to soul. I know he is up there making a good case. Today, I do remember a good man, a celebrated and authentic man who packed so much into a short 47 years. Rest, my brother and my pal. A true man of the people!
Maero Ozako
