It all started on the 6th of December, 2017 when I received a call from Oyindamola. It was quite unusual of him to call at that time of the day considering that we had a little argument. I initially wanted to ignore the call but later picked it- who knows, something urgent might be up. A frisson of shock and surprise shot through me and I began to shiver instantly. Promise me you won’t cry, Boye is dead! I dropped the call instantly and rushed downstairs to borrow a phone to call my ex-roommate. The instance she heard my voice, she broke into tears. I knew it was true. I fell on the floor and began to cry profusely, screaming “Boye can never die. It’s all a lie.” Victor- the one whose phone I used- looked confused and asked of what went wrong. I looked up at him, fumbled around words and kept on crying.
Every time I tried to write about him, my pen quivers and the memories we have created together made a quick flash now and then. He was one of the few friends I had. We met at a church fellowship- Student Christian Movement- in Ogbomosho. He got acquainted to my ex-roommate first and we got talking about few months after. I can’t really remember how we got talking.
As I paused, thinking of what exactly to write- writing everything would make sense but I didn’t know how to fit the pieces into a whole- about him, my mind wandered to and fro, back and forth and pictures of him and things we did together kept flashing, leaving a smile on my face and at the same time, tears dripping down my eyes.
I believed good people don’t die- Adeboye’s death proved me wrong. They shouldn’t die at all talk less of dying young. When I made inquires of how he died from our friend, Henry, he made me know that he died of chest pain. He further explained to me that he- Boye- had been telling his girlfriend that he wanted to die so he’d get to rest in heaven and his girlfriend kept shunning him. On the day of his death, his girlfriend told Henry that she missed several of his calls because she was writing an exam and when she finally called back, someone else picked and she was informed of his death. I tried imagining how she would feel. I’m sure she would keep blaming herself, thinking he would still be alive if she picked his call.
If there were no gates of pearl
If there were no streets of gold…
If there was no other world
And a land where we won’t grow old
I’m not thinking about those sights, no
Won’t be there to enjoy the view, no, no
I think heaven will be alright
Just as long as you’re there
As long as there is you…
Our last song together, “as long as there’s you” by Donnie McClurkin brings me to tears every time I listen to it. Each word, each line when listened to makes me feel as if he is speaking to me. We were in a band together. We sort of brought the idea up- I and Boye. Asides singing, we- all of us- prayed together, played together, cooked and ate together, visited each other, we even made jest of each other- Adeboye was always the first to start that. I remember one of Omowunmi’s birthday, we decided to give her a surprise visit. On getting there, he, Henry and Oluwaloni splattered makeup on her face and compelled her to go outside. They ensured she shouted ‘today is my birthday’ on the street and everyone kept laughing hysterically. Everyone of us had fun.
Yesterday, 6th June, 2019, made it 17 months since he left and I still find it hard to believe. It’s so very hard to. There were times when I would feel so depressed and unable to tell nobody. He always noticed without me telling him anything and instantly, he would do everything to keep me out of my state. I remember vividly when I had issues with the person I was in love with- Oyindamola- and he got me to tell him about it. To make me happy, he started calling me his wife. He cared for me even more and treated me as his wife. Even when our friends told him not to because Oyindamola is a paramilitary man, he laughed in their faces and told them he would call Oyindamola to inform him that he is my new husband. Days after, he met Oyindamola in my room. Adeboye winked and pinched me when I reminded him of what he wanted to tell Oyindamola. That day, I laughed uncontrollably and Oyindamola kept thinking of what made me laugh so hard. There were times when Oyindamola would ask me if I had anything to do with Adeboye.
Adeboye’s presence was like an icing to my ugly cake. He made every stormy weather calm without even having to try so hard. He was handsome and pure in heart. Nothing seemed to bother him and he ensured that everyone around him stayed and remained happy. He was energetic and loved what he did- he was a beautiful singer, a lovely guitarist, and a wonderful friend. If death were to be a person, I would spit in her face, yell at her and engage myself in a fight with her for taking Adeboye from me if I ever get to meet her. If wishes ever come true, I’m certain Adeboye would be back to life now.