Remembering Justus!

Sometimes in the early 90's our not so quiet family compound on Robert Road in Warri was thrown into more chaos as one of my not so discerning cousins decided to spit (solid phlegm) on the Village headmaster's head!

Prince (the cousin) had newly dicovered he could spit long distance (that's not an olympic recognised sport sebi) so he had been practicing all week and our Lagos based Uncle; Justus Esiri decided to stroll into the Esiri compound just as the Pro-Spitter threw a spit ball and it landed right in the center of uncle's head.

It took the intervention of the Late Dr. Esiri not to have 'had his head cut off' after a large search party was deployed to fish out the fleeing prince. Shouts of 'where is Prince' rent the air as my Uncle washed his head vigorously.

My uncle was (kills me to have to refer to him in the past tense)  a good man who prided himself in putting smiles on people's faces. His standard 'I'm checking on you question was 'are you happy?

He was a no-nonsense man. Mothers in our family utilised his visits to get their kids complete abandoned assignments in haste. However, I could not understand why my cousins fled whenever they heard his name. (There was even a Justus alert in the compound) He never scared me instead I aways looked forward to his visits and danced for joy when one day he asked my father to  allow him take me with him to Lagos. prior to that request, none of us had ever lived outside our home so my father refused initially. A few weeks later I was Lagos bound with that man I eventually called 'Daddy'

Looking back at the years we spent together, my Uncle has probably influenced me more than any other man (my dad is excluded) hence the shock and eventual pain I felt when I was informed of his demise at about 11pm Tuesday 19th February 2013

My Uncle and I

Justus and Omiete Esiri

At a family function L-R: Mojisola Esiri, Omiete Esiri, Yinka was Esiri, Rowland Esiri, Justus Esiri, Moi, Tunde Akinwumi and Engr. Oluwole (Uncle's very good friend)

I didn't expect a boisterous and happy man to die just like that. He was 71 but still had lots of years ahead of him. From his death I have learnt (again) that our mortality is REAL.

To you, he was the village headmaster, that fine actor in Wasted Years among a host of others, the Otun Amuludun of Ife kingdom, an Officer of the Order of the Niger (OON) or just a face. To me, he was Daddy!

Rest in Peace, Chief Justus Esiri, OON