By Babatunde Jose
Reflection is a practice and a skill which can be learnt and developed over time. It allows us to create a pause between our thoughts and often emotional responses and actions. Reflection helps us gain perspective, come to terms with events, learn from our experiences and enjoy moments of gratitude.
At its heart, self-reflection is setting aside time to think deeply and evaluate your thoughts, attitudes, motivations, and desires. It’s examining your emotions and behaviors and then asking yourself, “Why do I feel and act this way?”
My reflections on life is a walk through events, experienced and my gratitude to Almighty Allah for preserving me to this day and I believe He will make my days to be long and continue to grant me good health for the remaining period on this divide.
We need to reflect on these five thoughts daily: One, that we are subject to aging, second, to ill health, third to death, fourth that we will be separated from everything that is dear to us and fifth that we are responsible for our actions.
I owe Allah the gratitude because many were born on the same day, same hour and same minute, but many were recalled home by Allah. They did not commit any offense; they did not sin nor incur the wrath of God. They were simply not destined to live. I therefore thank Allah for His benevolence.
Let us therefore start from the beginning: My grandfather, Amusa Brimoh Jose entered in his Let’s Diary: “This is to certify that Wulemotu Atinuke , wife of my Son, Sunmola, delivered male child between Saturday night and Sunday morning, the 25th December 1949, Christmas day. The naming ceremony took place on Sunday 1st January 1950, New Year day and the child was named Brimoh Babatunde Bodunrin Jose. “
Incidentally, my grandfather, Amusa Bromoh Jose, formerly of Ojubanire Lane, Agarawu, Lagos Island, had settled in his new house at 51 Olonode Street, Sadu, Yaba Estate, in 1930. When I was born, my grandfather had only 4 children, Yekini, Limota, Sunmola and Mosunmola. My father, Sunmola (later Isma’il) was the second boy, his elder brother Yekini Alabi Jose, would later change his name to Albert Alabi Jose Esq, retired as Chief Registrar, Oyo State High Court and died in 1993.
In my reflections, there had been many deaths in the immediate family to warrant thanksgiving to Allah. Just as my father had 10 living children when he died, there had been the death of many members of the family.
Shortly after I was born, in February, 1950, my uncle’s wife Ebun (later Mama Isiaka) had a female child who was named Ayisatu Morenike. On Thursday 13th July, Ayisatu died at about 3pm and was buried on Friday 14th July. She later had a male child on 1st November 1953, named Isiaka. He was raised as my father’s child and lived with us all his life. Isiaka died of liver cirrhosis in 2021, and his mother died a few years ago at the ripe old age of 95. Different strokes!
I lived with my grandfather and my other siblings until I went to the boarding house in 1958. In that house of many rooms were my uncles late Mustapha and Bolaji Jose, both sons of my great grandfather’s brother Momodu Bakare. There was my favorite uncle Saula Ashafa who used to take me to the cinema. Of course I would have slept during the show and he would carry me home on his shoulder. Brother Saula lived to 80 before he died.
Brother Saula was the son of my father’s big uncle ‘Dad’, Ambali Ashafa, son of my grandfather’s sister, Sabitiu (Mama Oloka). Memories of holidays with him can never be forgotten. Unfortunately, three of his younger children with whom we played together are no more; Captain Tunde Ashafa, Bisi Gwadabe and Seki.
In that same house at Olonode lived the children of my grandfather’s late brother, RAB Jose (Teacher): They were brother Iso Jose, a man of many parts; a magician, mystic, aladura and later native doctor. He used to conjure rice and meat for us. And his brothers, Semiu Jose (Seaman) and Bros Sunmi, Esco Jose, who attended Kings College and a fine table tennis player. He suffered spinal tuberculosis, also known as Pott’s disease, which caused a hunched appearance. They are all of blessed memory.
And we also had an uncle from our family at Alayaki lane, Baba Massey. A most rascally fellow till he died. Among other exotic professions, he was a magician (Professor Massey) who used to perform on NTA, later he became a mystic and opened Massey Mystic Center at Ijanikin, later he went into herbal medicine and finally berthed as the Oluaiye of Ogboni Ibile, which he registered on his Mercedes S Class. He returned from an Ogboni meeting when he slumped and died in his car.
I started my primary school at Yaba Methodist in 1955 and enjoyed every bit of the time spent there. All my mates that we lived on my street have since died; Damola Oluwole, Olu Dada whose auntie Olajumoke Dada was married to the late Henry Fajemirokun. But I still recall the names of some of the others like Jide Keleko and Kayode Sofola who are still very much alive. I left Methodist after standard one for Mayflower Junior School, Ikenne in 1958.
Mayflower was a different experience entirely and there were all sorts of characters that gave one a lifetime of experience in human nature. Lifelong relationships were forged in the school. Akin Aloba remains a cherished friend, his late father Ebenezer Williams was my father’s friend and member of the fraternity of the pen. Our friend Agboola Anjou, ala, ‘delicate millionaire’ died last year long after he had retired from service as a pharmacist.
I remember Ademola Adeoba, son of late Justice Adeoba, my father’s friend, and uncle of former Lagos Deputy Governor, Sinotu Ojikutu. Demola died shortly after his father’s death.
There was also Kunle Martins, Eja Osa, son of late Ambassador ‘Pehin Martins. Kunle lived with us throughout, as his dad was abroad in the diplomatic service. Kunle dropped out of secondary school to join the army. He left as a sergeant to work with Bemil Securities and later left for the United States where he fell ill and died.
In Mayflower, I interacted with some people in the senior school, one of them was Late Godwin Oke, a handsome fella, had an infectious smile and was the vocalist in the school band. He was married to Doyin Okupe’s older sister.
There was tall, gangling Soji Osilowo, ‘no molest’ on the soccer field. I caught up with him in Port Harcourt in 1976, when I went to serve. He took very good care of me but unfortunately died in an accident going to Lagos in his Fiat Climatizata. May his soul rest in peace.
My sojourn in Ahmadiyya Grammar School, Eleyele is a story for another day. Top on the list were the Elegbede brothers, Waliu and Wasiu both departed and Rafiu, who retired as a Colonel in the Army. They were the children of Daddy Ukashat Elegbede, late of 8 Bola Street, Ebute Metta, where we spent many memorable days during school holidays. Daddy was the brother of Alhaja Alake Jose, Mama Sadu, my grandfather’s wife and mother of my auntie Late Mosun Ogunjobi, nee Jose. Anti Mosun (Mama Enitan) died a few months after my dad in 2008.
Talking of Bola Street, memories were made in our escapades with friends who later died, among them Segun Adebo, Mexico (Ajasa oko Risi), Navy Commander Tunde Alabi, Banana, Egbon, Admiral Babatunde Elegbede, Colonel Razak Adekunle Elegbede who married Erelu Dosunmu, and Justice Abiodun Kessington, ‘Na Bob’, all of blessed memory.
But they were the good old days. I should not forget to mention late Major (Dr) Sola Odunubi, Samsi Ope and Air Commodore Toyin Ojibara. Ina lil;ah wa ina ilehi rajiun.
Here, nearer home, many have also gone. There are many lessons learnt from the interactions with these good people. There is the issue of accommodation, learning to live with people and tolerating their foibles and idiosyncrasies.
There is also the development of resilience and adaptation to any environment you find yourself in. I spent time in Awka/Amobia as a corper, 1st set in 1973, where there was no electricity or pipe borne water; making myself happy with my battery operated portable record player.
Another experience learnt is patience, subru, translated as suru. I learnt that a man can never hurry the sun rise. With patience, a man will surmount the highest tribulation. In Birmingham, where I enrolled for a doctorate, which I later abandoned; for days and sometimes weeks, my only company was my 8-Track tape and Amstrad quad player. This went on for months until I met uncle Tunde Okunnu. He was God-sent. Uncle Tunde returned to Nigeria and later died. He was the junior brother of my Big Uncle, Alhaji Femi Okunnu. May Allah grant him Jannatul Firdous.
Perhaps the most important lesson is the need to be near our maker: Thanking God and constantly asking for forgiveness of sin either by omission or commission. And also Quisque fortunae suae faber est; that everyman is the architect of his own fortune.
Alhamdulillah, ‘Tunde kekere’ of Junior school, and ‘small boy Jose’, beating bata drum at Mbari Club, Ibadan in the play ‘Village of Ewa’ 1964, has come of age. In Sha Allah, Mr Tunde, as my old man used to call me, will be 75 on Christmas day. All praise to Almighty Allah.
Barka Juma’at and a Merry Christmas
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