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No, not Tunji Okusanya; he shouldn’t die

Why am I writing a tribute to someone who was unknown to me until May of this year? And when we first met, I discovered that he was just about old enough to be my second child? Yet, in less than six months, I had become so fond of him that when the news of his sudden death in the Associated Airline crash reached me at Ibadan, my regular refuge from the chaotic life in Lagos, tears came tumbling out of my eyes uncontrollably for hours – as if he was my son. In reality, right from our first conversation on the phone, which started with him calling, he always called me “Daddy”. Even, when I told him that “Uncle will be more appropriate”, he had replied, “Sir, you are like a Daddy to a lot of us educated young ones around Campus Square. We are proud that you are one of our own; and we read you every Sunday religiously”.

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At times like these

There is a saying that there is nothing new under the sun and for every tragedy, there are countless greater tragedies! Pain however can’t be classified or eulogised with fancy words and one thing I find very unbecoming is the comparison of tragedies. It would be better to stay away than to visit someone who is grieving and start telling them about someone who has a bigger problem than they do

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