Oluebube’s Eulogy

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When oluebube and I first met it was in 2014, at a bar down the road in Palm groove, I asked him for a lighter and he brought out a matchbox from the double breasted floral patterned shirt he loved to wear, like it was 1995, immediately I knew he was an old soul. I decided to move to his table and struck a conversation with him realized he truly was one, because even though we were young at that time, he knew and said many things way past what one so you young should ever utter, we had drinks and ever since then I have never left his side, we have been best friends ever since.
Very good man, he could make anybody laugh, I put my assets on this assertion without flinching, this may sound to some of you like I am patronizing him

, I’m not I promise you, I have said everything I have ever wanted to say to him while he was alive both good and bad and if I would patronize him it wouldn’t be at his death.
Oluebube like every other man had his flaws, he was an asshole and an asswipe, being just an asshole was not enough for him,too candid to spare your feelings, it was threatening and always shocking what he could say to you or about you to your face and then go on to ask you to pass him the ashtray like he didn’t just put a dagger through your chest. He was never a man to leave things behind your back. Rude and bad mouthed but surprisingly of very good manners, gentlemanly, he opened doors for me as a guy and on occasions I felt embarrassed about it, but it all seemed natural to him and so it was with me too later on.
He knew how to make you feel like the only person in his life, I can see some of the ladies in the crowd nodding their heads [crowd laugh and aww] so you know that he was also a ladies man on the occasion he wanted to be around the other sex , terrible heartbreaker, but never on purpose, it was only because he was curious and had a short attention span. But he had a good heart and was very fun to be around, never a boring moment with Oluebube, he had stories to tell for days on days on days and they would never bore you, it was almost as if the word boring didn’t apply to him.
One of my favorite moments with him was that very first day we met, because after we left the bar he took me on so many other adventures I am too in my feelings to recount at this moment, I noticed if he could talk to you he considered you a friend, and he didn’t have those in large numbers, only a baby handful. [Wipes tear] Everything that made him seem cool was what killed him, he spent a lot of his time in perfect solitude and wrote a lot, told a lot of stories which went hand in hand with smoking a lot and drinking a lot more, staying out late in bars having conversations with clever men and women of different caliber, people who introduced him to many other vices, so on and so forth… [Swallows saliva and cleans red rimmed eyes] Born October twenty three, nineteen-sixty, twenty three days after our country gained her independence from her British colonizers was the same day the man lying dead and stiff in that coffin became a son to his late father and his mother who is seated over there under the canopy in the midst of the Umu-Ada paid and bribed to cry, because we all know he thought them to be greedy fake burial mourners after their own pockets, he looks ugly there now but he used to be very handsome, dark hair he refused to cut, slant eyes, golden sk…[Chokes on words and coughs into handkerchief] He was a good man,

I have to be cliché about it over and over again and you all know It to be true, he was a good man, he brought electricity and water to this village when most had to walk several miles to the stream or beg from their proud neighbors whom had pipe borne water in their houses put in for them by their children working in the big city of Lagos, that man lying in the coffin saw it all happening and put a stop to it, for that one reason may the almighty allow him passage into paradise for rubbing balm on our tired backs and necks, now his people can smile and raise heads proudly in the public square.
There is a priest around to say a prayer over his body and cleanse him of all his sinful ways, despite the fact that he was agnostic and an occasional atheist, he always told me he didn’t want a priest at his funeral. He is survived by four children equally seated under the canopy to my left, his beautiful Ada and his three strong sons, I am equally surprised like most of you here who heard him talk about children like gremlins who crawl out of hell to torment his solitude, and he had a wife, equally surprising because he talked about marriage with disgust, something that was doomed to end from the start, Oluebube could give you a list on why not to get married and if you sat down to think about it he made some sense, I remember some and I have included them in this here eulogy, Freedom to do with your time as you please, freedom of society to belong to and little of it at the same time, he hated relatives and extended families and the painstaking trifles they came with and naturally expected him to bend to, children especially, less money for books, idleness and being potbellied and fat, fatigue and anxiety of who hasn’t eaten, a woman to report to, little privacy for solitude and writing and reading.
His Wife isn’t here not because of those reasons, he loved her a lot, they had marital problems and he left her and moved out of his home, she too was a good woman who didn’t deserve such treatment because she did him a lot of good, perhaps he wouldn’t be dead now if she still lived with him, perhaps it was that his new Calabar mistress who killed him, we would never know, all we know is that he is dead, and we must honor the dead with a burial and at least, a honestly written eulogy about his life on earth.

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