DYING three weeks to his 74th birthday, my old man, Evangelist Bola Ajibike,might not have died a very old man, but he was certainly a fulfilled man. He lived life to the full. He made the most of each day; he never had to kill time. He utilised every opportunity knowing that what man makes of opportunities ultimately makes man. He was of the opinion that every experience provided a learning opportunity, so, daily he strove to go to bed a better man than he was when he awoke earlier in the day. Thus, I am sure that as of the time he answered the final call, he had no regrets because it was his practice to sort out the issues of his life on a daily basis.I never had to introduce him as my father-in-law but my father. It was only a few friends, who wondered why my dad and I had different surnames, that had the benefit of the explanation that he was my father by marriage.The foundation for our filial bonding was laid in 1993. After his daughter, Odunayo, and I had convinced each other that we needed to become one, it was imperative for me to see her dad. I still remember vividly that initial encounter. Odunayo and I were in the sitting room waiting for him to come out, he did shortly after we had settled in the sitting room. Apparently his daughter had not told him of my visit.When he saw me, he said genially, 'Odun, who is this your handsome chaperon'''He is my fianc, Dad,' the daughter responded.He extended his hand to me and said, 'Welcome, son.'From that day till he bade all of us farewell in the early hours of 7th December, while having his quiet time, we related as father and son.He was full of surprises. I recall that while his daughter and I were planning our wedding, I called on him to find out when he would want to have my parents visit him. As we were discussing, he asked if my parents were in Ibadan to which I responded in the affirmative. Then, he stunned me when he said, 'Let us go to them now.'My mouth was agape.Then the clincher: 'If you are going to marry my daughter, then you are my son; your parents are my siblings. So, it does not matter to me who goes to the other person first. I know that by our tradition they will still need to come and visit the family, but I want to see them now. So, let us go.'And we did. We journeyed in his car from his Bashorun home to my parents' place at Liberty Road. That ride went a long way in cementing our relationship. If I was taken aback by his decision to visit our home, my parents were flabbergasted.Evangelist Ajibike was a man of God who chose to serve God through humanity. He saw a measure of God in everyone. He loved people genuinely and never hid it. Religious, cultural or ethnic consideration was not strong enough to create a chasm between him and anyone. Till he breathed his last, he was engaged in service to his God. We found his body at the spot where he normally had his quiet time in his room, with his Bible clutched to his chest. Beside him was found an unfinished manuscript of the history of the church where he had served for over 40 years.When I arrived his residence at about 11:00am on that Wednesday that he died, I met a man, an official of the Oyo State Police Community Relation Committee (PCRC), who was in the house because he and my dad were to visit some place on behalf of the committee. The guy was in the sitting room downstairs waiting for Daddy, who was the chairman of PCRC in Oyo State, to come down, not knowing that the man with whom he had an appointment had departed for an eternal appointment with his maker. When he was told that Evangelist Ajibike had transited, the man became inconsolable.Ajibike was a man of candour; he was neither pretentious nor indecisive. He had strong convictions and was never afraid of expressing his mind. But he was enlightened enough to realise that the other man also had a right to his views, so he would not force his opinions on anybody. This earned him the respect of many.My father was a man of integrity. This transcends mere uprightness; he was the same everywhere. He was one whole man. There was no church, home or society version of Bola Ajibike. Despite being a man of many parts, he never had to act any part because he was the same everywhere. The same Evangelist Ajibike was the same Daddy Ajibike, the same Businessman Ajibike and the same Community man Ajibike.Above all, he was my friend and confidant. We discussed anything and everything. There was a day he called his daughter, my wife, and perceived that she was under the weather. When he was through with her, he put a call to me and asked me what manner of husband would allow his wife go under the weather. He charged me to return home as quickly as I could and shake the cold off his daughter. That was my father!About three weeks prior to his transition, he called me to see him at home the following day. Being familiar with my schedule, he knew that I would not have much time to spare at that time of the day. So, he was waiting for me in his lobby. As I sat down, he handed over to me his burial and main will to keep.'Daddy....,' I sputtered out with concern.He just smiled and said, 'Don't worry. All is well.'After I told my wife what transpired on returning home, she immediately called her father, expressing concern over his state of health, but he assured her that he was as fit as a fiddle. I added my voice to the reassurance by telling my wife that her father appeared to have not less than 10 additional years on earth. How wrong I was.He was also my fan. He read everything I wrote, everything. But he never shared every of my views. Nevertheless, he never failed to encourage me, always urging me to be my best. He was my number one fan.Mark Anthony, at the funeral of Julius Caesar, in the book of the same title by William Shakespeare, says, 'The evil that men do lives after them; the good is oft interred with their bones.' That may be true for others, but certainly not Evangelist Bola Ajibike. How can I forget the inspirational moments we shared' How can I ever forget the warmth he radiated' How can I forget his love for me and mine' How can I forget his Gibraltar-like support' How can I'Dear Dad, I love you but I have to let go of you so that you can continue in your rest. But be assured that my love for you is not in the past tense. Even if what I hold on to is just the fond memory of our relationship, you remain my love. Adieu, my father, my friend and my fan.Olanrewaju is Editor, Features, Nigerian Tribune
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