Nwa ba, the anxiety of yesterday is still sweeping my moments. I do not understand anything, anymore. My memory is frozen in time…Today, I am worse than a zombie. So in between my “ayagayaga-yo” daze, I decided to call you. Remember, I promised to call today?. I dialed the wrong numbers and got a female voice on “your line”. Curiously and vexed, I asked:
“Who is this?”
“This is the phone operator”
“Sorry ma, me no wan the operator. Na Kimono me want!”.
I hung up, checked the phone numbers again!. Oh, my mistakes.
I dialed the right phone number. It rang until your voicemail activated. So, I decided to leave you these messages, since it seemed, you are avoiding my calls:
I heard you are leaving. I just called to ask why so soon and sudden?. I wished you could answer your damn phone and talk to me. Before you leave, I just wanted to remind you of the days of our lives “Ina mi land”: on life streets, we were soaked by our salty sweats, our feet covered by the dusty hopelessness of our land and living as we contended with our adversaries. Despite our misty and moist eyes, we saw a future, so close, yet far away. We were foot soldiers, marching forward, our parts, unknown. We had us: Syster Sybil Amuta, our first Love and Empress of the movement, Jah ‘ Stix band members, Majek Fashek, Black ‘Rice, Amos McCroy and George Orwell; Alex Zitto, Daniel Wilson, Ortis Wiliki, your young manager Uche, late Syster Peggy, Victor Essiet, Late Peterside Otong…You came to “mash up the system” with your protest poetry powered by defiant but charming personality. Nwa ba, the people prayed for your hybrid energy, music and message to awaken our consciousness, empower and call them to action: to rise and challenge the status quo. Nigeria was at the mercy of military nuisance and disturbance…
Our bond of brotherhood was firm, outside that masterpiece called Nigeria. Soon, we were UNDER PRESSURE, our hopes for a greatest tomorrow, fogged by false morning dews. So we left, hoping to live to fight another day.
We arrived at a new frontier where life happened. Despite the challenges in God’s own country, distanced by our different settlements in the new land, we stayed closer than closest, relied on each other’s encouragements to walk through strange experiences and culture shocks. Oh, nwa ba. Did you remember how life happened to me first?. You were worried about my divorce palava and pulling through that emotional wreck; your soft and tender voice on the phone reminding me of our paths to thence. You told me:
” nwa ba, we are rough riders. This too shall come to pass. Inu?”.
Yes. It came to pass, a new sunrise lifted my soul and you were there.
You were the trusted overseer for Majek Fashek, those Atlanta days. I was six hours away: your worries and concerns for him also became ours, a manifestation of loyalty to our profound brotherhood. We hoped best for him, worried and often frustrated by his shenanigans, yet we were true to Majek. Your words still ring in my brain:
” nwa ba, our brother don start again o. You need to come down to Atlanta and take your wahala…”.
Other days, I felt your raw frustrations, marinated in our beautiful Anioma dialect:
” nwa ba, afo ya tagbu iyu na Majek.( Belly would ache you and Majek), I don taya o. You see yourself?. Keep following mad and crazy musicians. We wey nor crase dey beg you to manage us, but you keep following the ones wey crase and wey don die: Majek. Fela. Okosun. Dem curse you?. Me wey be your brother, you no fit come manage. Na because I nor crase?. Afor ta gbue Jebose…”.
Those words and thunder laughter they generated, hmmm! Rasman, I still dey laugh. These were us, raw, naturally honest to ourselves and loved the feelings… “Kimo Nne”, I would deliberately trigger you into our dialect exchange. Our rocky roads to friendship led us to the eternal discovery of this brotherhood..
Nwa ba, how am I going to tell Sybil that you did not answer your phone?. Tell me!. What should I tell Sennami and her younger sisters?: that I am still waiting for their dad to call me back?. Our friends are hounding me to tell them about your life and music. The people are asking me questions that only you can answer. I do not want to tell anyone about you. It is Kimono that knows Kimono, not privileged information. Nwaba, please call back and get these chasers off my back, or is it true you have left?. Where are you going to, Nwa ba?. Kimo Nne, I just called, again?. You did not answer!!!.