By Muyiwa Adetiba
This season, called the Ember months, always fills me with some trepidation and I usually heave a sigh of relief when it rolls to a crescendo on January 1. About this time next week, it would be a year since a dear friend Sesan Ogunro lost his life to armed car snatchers. Till today, to the best of my knowledge, none of his assailants has been apprehended.

Meanwhile, his children have had to continue life without a father who left too suddenly for a proper good bye. His wife Dupe has trudged on bravely to try and complete the projects they started together, keep his Advertising Agency going and generally perform the role of two people.

It could not have been easy especially when many of the promises from friends and clients have turned out to be nothing but hot air; but she is a strong woman, a survivor. Because she is who she is, I have no doubt that she would cope with the big picture. But what about the little things? Things as simple as reporting a child’s action to their father; or a friend’s action to your husband; or sharing a joke at church or at work.

What about the touch, the intimacy, the very breath of a companion of many years. There is also the issue of what you do with his things, and the things you once shared together? More importantly, what do you do with the memories of the good and bad times?

Sesan Ogunro has popped up in my sub-conscious more times than I care to remember in the past year —in shared music, in jokes, sometimes told by strangers, in shared gifts and values, in situations where I felt he would have passed a comment.

There is no time I meet Kehinde Phillips his friend and next door neighbour that his name does not come up. Sometimes we use phrases we know he would have used or jokes he would have cracked especially when the three of us were together. Even when I pass by his office, there is this compulsion to stop. I did that a couple of times and I left the office sadder than when I entered. My presence certainly didn’t do the staff any good. It just brought back memories of what life was.

So if I have felt his death so keenly, I wonder how Dupe and his children would have felt especially when faced with those little things we always take for granted in relationships and life but which they will now miss. Yet our personalities are defined by those little things.

From personal things like the kind of food we like and how we like it made; what side of the bed we like to sleep on, how we like our watches whether with leather or chain, our music, whether rock, ballad or mushy love songs, the favourite colours in clothes and home décor to external things like the kind of parties we like to attend and the kind of friends we like to relate with. The more of these things you know, the more you can be in tune with the person you claim to be your friend/ lover/ partner/ spouse.

I have had to think in the last couple of days about these little things and how sub-consciously, we use them to form an opinion about a person’s character. In my interviewing days, the clustered desk of my subject told me certain things; an appointment arranged by a secretary and adhered to nonetheless told me another thing.

So did a duly made appointment that was forgotten or disregarded. I picked clues from the mannerisms, the approach to the interview, mode of dressing etc. and I am sure many would have formed opinions about me from unconscious clues too like being late, being neat or being prepared etc.

People we are meeting for the first time send messages that are often unintended but which can help in forming a lasting impression. Is he quiet and welcoming, or does he behave as if he has all the answers? Does he disappear into a corner or does he dominate the whole room? Is he the life of the party or a shy individual who has difficulties in getting the words out of his mouth? I can go and on; but make no mistake, these things define us.

A certain queen in Western Europe is remembered for asking her people to eat cake when they rioted because of bread. It was a statement that led to a revolution. A certain First Lady in Eastern Europe is remembered for her collection of shoes.

It was a reason to topple her husband. A certain King in Africa is noted for his fondness for virgins just as a certain Leader in Western Europe went to the dock for sleazy, extramarital affairs. None of them is remembered for the roads they must tarred or the hospitals they must have built or their domestic achievements but for these little things that exposed their frailties and their indulgencies.

What are the little things that reveal the character of our President and the transformation of same? At the beginning, the signal was that of a loyal deputy—first as deputy governor and later as Vice President. Then as an under-dog whose rights were being denied.

His campaign message of a shoeless one got empathy and connected with many across the country. He won the election with a lot of goodwill and when he retracted one or two decisions, he was seen as a humble leader who was willing to accept his mistakes. His decision to appoint committees on virtually all contentious issues portrayed him as a consensus builder who was willing to bow to collective wisdom. It was when he did nothing about the reports that he began to be seen as a man who is unwilling or unable to address the nitty gritty of governance.

If President Jonathan was to leave office tomorrow he would be remembered for some little things; his decision not to visit the Chibok girls for example; his decisions or indecisions on; petroleum subsidy scam, the allegedly missing billions in NNPC, the flamboyant, extravagant and uneconomic lifestyle of his oil Minister, the militarisation of Ekiti and Osun States’ elections, the undue influence and power of the First Lady, the governors’ forum election where 16 became superior to 19, the culture of impunity where State organs are used overtly to fight partisan personal and party wars etc.

May the soul of my friend whom I pray will be remembered for pleasant little things, continue to rest in the Lord.