Today I mourn and celebrate my friend Lance Corporal Chidi kelechi
Obinna who passed on just when his life was about to begin. Like one of those
annoying ironies of life, he didn't fall by the expected enemy's bullet but by
a seemingly common illness Tonsillitis related complications. I don't even
understand what that is.
Chidi popularly referred to as Black by friends because of his
generously abundant melanin pigmentation was one of the most focused young
people I'd ever met. Back in school,
aside from tackling Agricultural Economics in a Federal University of
Technology, he was also concurrently running another course -Estate management-
in Federal Polytechnic Nekede and he was also a soldier. Take that.
Prior to meeting him, I'd never really thought about soldiers as real
people. You know flesh and blood. But he and his friends opened my eyes to another field of life, the
joys and perils of it. More of Perils in my opinion. I mean even
though a civilian knows he will die someday he can at least live in fantasy
land and assume death is faraway not minding incident like a plane crashing into your building on a warm Sunday afternoon... But to an active military personnel, death
and pain are constant realities. A friend of his once remarked "pain is
your friend, it tells you that you're still in the land of the living".
Another said "Everyman has a bullet with his name on it, and it'll find
you wherever you are".
He began his military career as a
boy soldier when he was twelve years old
at Nigeria Military School NMS Zaria in 1996 and ever since then,
service of motherland has been his life. He was always neat(seems soldiers are
averse to dirt), well dressed, courteous with a wicked sense of humour, the
definition of humility. Very unflappable. I remember always looking for ways to
fluster him until he unwittingly handed me an arsenal. I overheard him asking a
female friend of his why girls liked referring to each other as roomies (room mates) and bunkies (bunk
mates), he asked her if she'd ever heard a guy say of another "oh he's my
bunkie", he basically thought it was so lame and purely girls thing. I
decided then to start calling him 'roomie' since he was rooming with my friend
but then I thought 'bunkie' sounded more girlie so I took that one. I still
recall the laughter of that first time I called him "my bunkie", his
expression was priceless. But then he was such a good sport about it and the
name stuck, so much so that when I ran into him at ISBN( International Standard
Book Number)office in Lagos, I excitedly screamed "bunkie" without
thinking. That outburst got us strange stares though. He had a knack for giving
people nicknames as well, he used to refer to me as "Scholes" the one time Manchester United player or
"madam". He was fun, sociable and so alive.
Truly "the ground don chop better things"
Rest in peace my bunkie.
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