By Tony Okoroji
In the last four years, I have spent every month of December in the United States where much of my family lives. December is critical to my family not just because of Christmas but because of the number of birthdays of members of the family that fall within the month. My daughter, Stephanie; my brother, Iyke; Queen Mary, my girlfriend who became my wife, were all born in December and they all live in America.
Those of you who joined me in Saturday Breakfast last week will recall that I reported that last Sunday, December 22, would be my birthday. Ordinarily, I would join the family for a joint celebration in the U.S. I however decided to spend this December in Lagos where I live and work, and make December 22, a day for deep reflection and quiet thanksgiving.
I also tried to spend the day to pray for the many citizens of our country who in this season of celebration, cannot celebrate, because they are weighed down by the huge economic and social problems that have gripped our nation.
I told my friends who shared breakfast with me on Saturday that this is one year we should not give to those who already have, but help the people who have nothing to eat. In the same vein, I begged any of my friends who may be planning a birthday present for me, to spend the money on someone less privileged than myself.
Despite the fact that I reported that there would be no party, my home still overflowed with friends and colleagues who came practically unannounced to share the day with me. Some even brought me presents, the same presents I had said I did not want nor do I deserve.
On Sunday, I was bombed, left right and center, on social media by thousands of friends some I know, many I do not know. My Sms and WhatsApp platforms were overflowing with messages of goodwill and at some points I had five telephone calls waiting to get my attention at the same time. I am at a loss for words to express my gratitude for the love shown me by many during my birthday and the ongoing Christmas celebrations. Please forgive me if I could not reply to the messages you sent to me. My prayer is that the good Lord will honour you.
Monday, I was back at COSON House in Ikeja, working with the Management, to do what we could to send out the 2nd COSON Palliative Royalty distribution to any possible remaining COSON member, so that the money can be useful to them, in any small way, for Christmas. If you know how difficult it can be in Nigeria, sometimes, to transfer money using a bank app to just one person, you may then appreciate how tough it can be transferring money to thousands of people and doing it diligently and carefully.
At midnight on Christmas eve, I was on repeated phone calls, back and forth, and shared e-mail documents with the COSON Deputy General Manager, Mr Vincent Adawaisi and Head of Finance & Administration, Mr Tony Imuse because I was getting reports of COSON members who were still waiting to receive their alerts. In fact, I had to drag the very religious Vincent Adawaisi from a church retreat to ensure that everything is done to serve every COSON member we could.
For the first time in the many years that I have worked Mr Adawaisi, the otherwise very respectful Adawaisi expressed anger at me. In my conversation with him, I had said that it was “wicked” for some of the members to still be waiting for their money while many had received theirs. He did not like my use of the word. “wicked” and said so and almost insinuated that I was acting like a slave driver. I apologized and reminded him that our integrity was at stake. I believe we made up.
I had made detailed plans to travel on Boxing Day to Owerri, my state capital and subsequently to Atta, my home town. Apart from spending time with my very hard- working legal team in Owerri, a cherished cousin of mine who lives in Massachusetts, Chief Adolphus Okpoebo was bringing his wife and children home from the U.S. to celebrate his 40th wedding anniversary in Atta. I had to be there. If I was the one having the event, Adolphus would be there. I also intended to attend other events in the village and meet my friends at home. I had made a deal with guitar-loving Airline Captain, Emma Anyanwu that we will share barbecue in his house. Because of the crazy security situation, much of my travel to imo State in recent years have been by air. I however planned the boxing day trip to be by road because of the many stops, I may need to make.
Between me and Abey, my driver, we took time to cross every “t” and dot every “I”. The car was properly serviced and all the bags and presents we were taking with us were packed. I had planned to join my famous elder sister, “Miss”, who came in with her husband from New York, spent four days with me in Lagos and moved to Owerri. When Abey left for home on Christmas day, we agreed that he would go to bed early and come back next day about 5.00 am. Our idea was to depart Lagos about 6.00 am on Boxing Day and arrive Owerri early evening.
A few minutes to 5.00 am on Boxing Day, I called Abey, to tell him that we would be aborting the trip. I had not slept a wink all night. A strange swelling had suddenly appeared on my lower gum and was giving me unbearable pain. Both my feet had also swollen. Symptoms of Malaria which I had treated twice in a month re-appeared and I was shivering through the night.
Once it was dawn, I called my very dependable doctor, Dr Moses Jatto, the story of whom I have told several times in Saturday Breakfast. Dr Jatto has wrestled with my health so many times that nobody knows my body like Moses Jatto. Over a year ago, Dr. Jatto moved from the Mainland where he started Care Life Hospital. He now operates from a new and beautiful Care-life Hospital with fantastic equipment, he built from the ground up, in Ajah after Lekki, on the Island. Anybody who knows Lagos well knows that it can take you up to three hours to drive from where I live to Care-Life Hospital where Dr. Jatto now operates from.
When I told Dr Jatto that I was coming, he laughed and said that I was kidding. I insisted that I was coming to eat my share of his Christmas rice and chicken. He told me that he had coincidentally made a special request from his wife to cook some party jollof rice for Boxing Day. I spoke to Dr. Jatto’s first Lady, the gorgeous Josephine, and requested that the size of the jollof rice be increased to include a hungry man without a wife in Nigeria, driving all the way from the Mainland and his hungry driver too!
We made Ajah in about two hours. Boxing Day was a public holiday and the traffic was lighter than usual. It was nice to see Jatto’s three kids, Brian, Adrian and Olive again. They all jumped on “Uncle Chief”. One look at me, my doctor ordered his lab man and some nurses to come over ‘immediately” to his living quarters and they jumped on me taking blood samples and measuring this and that. A room was immediately fixed for me. I complained to Jatto that my mission was to eat some jollof rice and maybe get some tablets from him and that I had no tooth brush, no change of clothes, not even my ubiquitous laptop. He told me bluntly that it would be medical malpractice to let me go in the state I was.
You may recall that I had said in the last Saturday Breakfast that I did not spend any day of 2024 on a hospital bed. I spoke too fast. That was true for 51 weeks of the year. The last week was very different. My boxing day was spent on a bed at Care-life Hospital, Ajah, with Matron, Perpetual and Nurses: Bunmi, Chidimma and Ope, jabbing injections into me from all directions and pumping drips into my body. one after the order.
Once again, Dr. Moses Jatto may have saved my life. OMG! The short distance between life and death! How much did I pay for the royal treatment that I got at Care-life Hospital Ajah? Dr Jatto said it was my Christmas present. If in my usual craziness, I had continued the trip to Owerri, only God knows what would have happened. What happened to my Jollof Rice Combo? It is a story for another day.
