“WHAP!! …*sharp intake of breath* … that hit me… right in the solar  plexus…

One day, give or take about seven years ago, I was in my kitchen with a much younger friend when a certain song that took me way back came on. As  I screamed in delight and began to sing along, she squeezed up her face in that annoying way younger people do when they come across something they consider ‘old school’ and said…

“Ah ah aunty! Which kind music be dis na? I was livid!  “What do you mean? … You don’t know this song??”  Disdainfully she answered, “no…nah who sing this kind song sef? Dem no dey sing like this again o! Dis na old school!” I could believe it… “What?” I screamed. You’ve never heard of  Whitney Houston? Nonchalantly she replied… “no, am I supposed to?” I vex.

“Yes!” I retorted. You’re supposed to!” then I proceeded on a rant, you would think that I was giving her a lecture on fornication! You see how ignorant  you really are?! And with every statement my friend is cringing and the expression on the poor girl’s face is like okay…who have I killed? Name them I said, now going full steam, from Mary J to Beyoncé, Kelly Clarkson, Mariah Carey and everyone in between; Whitney is their seminal point. I went on and on and gave her a thorough schooling on ‘THE VOICE’.

To hear that she died so suddenly, affected me more than I would have expected perhaps because her songs red_flagged every major milestone in my early  years.

Who can forget THE BODY GUARD or the song DANCE WITH SOMEBODY? Gosh! Her hair in that video… yet we loved it!  Looking back now at that particular video… didn’t realise how those jeans, white tee and black leather jacket influence my sense of style till this day.

Remember WAITING TO EXHALE and that great song from that awesome sound track SHOOP? And these were latter day… there had been several great hits before and even after that. Whitney Houston can be described as the sound track to my adolescent years… was there an emotion you were feeling that you didn’t understand or couldn’t express? There was a Whitney Houston song that captured it perfectly.

When the news broke early that morning one of the reporters said that Whitney was a case study in the dangers of drug abuse; I say she’s a case study on rolling with the wrong people. When Yoruba people say… “O ni ba olori buruku pade!” we don’t realise how strong a prayer that is. Whitney’s life can be described in two parts – her life before Bobby and her life after. I know  we’re ultimately, responsible for our individual lives.

And while you can argue that she was older and really should have known better; I really don’t give a shit! In my books, Bobby Brown will always go down as the low-life gutter snipe that ruined a gem. That’s my opinion, you’re entitled to yours. My goodness! Talk about  taking slumming to new heights!

The point is moot now but Bobby was just wrong. Even  my seven- year-old daughter couldn’t comprehend it. While watching the video of  her duet with Bobby SOMETHING IN COMMON, she was told that was Whitney’s husband, she said what?

And actually used the words, ‘how could she do that to herself??Na wa! E pain me o! Like the loss of a personal friend. As I stood in my husband’s room that early morning, arms raised bobbing to …’eeehhh I wanna dance with somebody….i wanna feel the heat with somebody eeehhh ….’ With tears streaming down my face (thank God for understanding spouses I must have looked utterly ridiculous!) I am humbled and afraid. My silent prayer is Lord, have mercy! Lord have mercy… just one moment… one wrong turn… one bad meet… Whitney’s life and times makes you stop and think…

Ah! There will never be another. Rest in peace dear friend … your spirit lives on in the musical legacy you left behind. And to each and every one of you reading this… a o ni ba olori buruku pade ninu aiye wa ni oruko Jesu!

And as if that wasn’t a big enough emotional roller coaster, later that night Ivory Coast and Zambia give us a final battle like never before! What a match! Kai! Chipolopolo! Can we see how MEN play ball? I hope Nigeria is watching.