Tomilola Emiola
No doubt, death comes at will. For some, it comes early. But what time is the ripe age to die? No one can give the perfect time for death. We all know we will die but do not know when and where death will meet us. There is always a look into the deeds of men after death. This means our deeds live long after us.
As I write this, I can only try to recall those lasting impacts of yours in my life and so many others around you that you affected positively.
To begin with, dear boss, you were the most considerate and loving leader I have ever known. You never related with us like staff, rather you made the atmosphere that of friends and partners. So, how do I bid you goodbye? This farewell is expensive.
Again, my eyes have become a flowing river of tears as I remember that you gave me my first political appointment. You understood standards and still stuck to me as the right choice despite my distance from home. Again, this is an expensive loss for this generation. Your love for honest service to the people will be missed.
Akure lost their gem and everyone, both young and old, are pouring in tributes for you. Even the market stalls were closed in honour of your demise.
How on earth, where on earth and when on earth will we find your replica? This is too expensive. Indeed, this is an expensive loss.
I joined your team in June. We made our plans, to let the people know how much you have done for your constituents in the last two years. You were working hard day and night but many didn’t know much about your achievements. So, we went to work to change the narratives.
We just finished designing the third flyers, waiting for your approval to roll out but death had other plans. Your last messages to me were about the commissioning of some of your projects and the planning of your father-in-law’s burial, but you’re no more to further the discussions.
So, this reality is real! Are you truly no more, Expensive? The reality of your demise is here and I hear the songs of condolences, the tributes, and the epistles. A dear boss is gone! In few days, it will be exactly two months you sent and I received my appointment letter from you. When I received that letter I was short of words but the news of your demise broke me into speechlessness.
You listened to all my humble advice and acted on them all as long as they would positively affect the people, even sometimes out of my jurisdiction. This loss is a shock. It brings great grief. Yours is a confirmation of not how long but how well. I dare to say that a life of honour and service is worthy and celebrated even after death.
You drove your old cars even as a member of the House of Representatives, which only confirmed that you were not materialistic. Your decision was to help the people even at the expense of your comfort. You lived for the people. Why now did you have to leave when the people needed you more?
May you find peace in this eternal journey. I pray the Lord bless your family and relatives, give them the fortitude to carry on.
Till we meet to part no more. Know that your impacts will be felt forever. We will always remember you for your good deeds.
Sleep well, dear boss.
Hon. Adedayo Isaac Omolafe (Expensive) April 18, 1964 to August 16, 2021.