Former Managing Director, Niger Delta Development Commission (NDDC), Ndutimi Alaibe is pained over the death of Admiral Joe Aikhomu and has recounted his final moments with him.
He said; “We flew together, twice in three days. First, on Monday, February 8; we flew from Abuja to Lagos. Exactly 48 hours later precisely on Wednesday, February 10 we flew back to Abuja.”
“On each of these trips, we had intimate discussions as we always did. We shared ideas. He asked some curious questions and made suggestions. I listened to the voice of wisdom and experience. We laughed over his usual inexhaustible humour.”
“Before we landed in Abuja that Wednesday, February 10, he announced that he had authorised the preparation of black bitter leaf soup (oriwo), a delicacy consumed mainly by Edo people, for me. That was quite special though it was not totally strange or unexpected.”
“He was always full of surprises. From the airport, we drove straight to his house; in the same vehicle, though I had a car waiting for me. We chatted, laughed nothing unusual.”
“What happened next stunned me. On reaching his residence, he ordered that the soup be given to me to take home; in the pot! We all laughed as the pot of black bitter leaf soup was wholly put inside the car for onward movement to my residence. I didn’t know it would be the last soup he would personally give me or the last physical gift I would receive from him.”
“Alarmed by subsequent events, I keep asking: Was I so spiritually insensitive not to have noticed something unusual about all of these gestures? Perhaps, his spirit was giving me signs and my naivety did not allow me to grasp it.”
“The above scenarios were my last unforgettable physical encounters with Rear Admiral Joe Omozuya Aikhomu, the Aigbokalu of Esanland.”
“He was a father-figure friend whose influence and counsel could not be dismissed; a reliable uncle with accommodating presence; and a senior brother whose shoulder I could lean on. Roll all this into one and you will understand why tears have refused to stop and sorrow has choked me up since I heard of his eternal exit.”
“Within our small circle of mutual friends, Admiral gave all of us names. He called me T-One. Greg Uanseru was named G-One. Dr Okey Anueyiaguwhom he had known for over 30 years was named Nwokem Gbo Gbo, meaning, my brother, my friend of ages.”
“Alali Halliday was named My Colleague. Retired General Emeka Onwuamaegbu was named Air Assault. To all of us, Admiral Joe Omozuya Aikhomu was J-One.”
“After landing in Abuja that day, he had instructed the Captain to come for us on Friday. I had to humbly remind him that I had a loaded weekend in Abuja; and would therefore not be able to return to Lagos with him.”
“As I left him, there was no sign of sickness. Even when I called him on succeeding days, we talked as usual. He never told me of any pain or discomfort no matter how minor; neither was I clairvoyant enough to observe anything ominous.”
“On Saturday, February 13, he threw me into endless laughter when he sent a picture taken in Atlanta, United States some three years ago. In the picture, I sat in a lounge with Dr Anueyiagu, holding a bottle of distilled fermented beverage the Blue Label. We knew J-One enjoyed Blue Label, but I had always argued with him that it wasnt my preferred beverage.”
“In the picture, he asked a rhetorical question: Bad boys! What were you doing with a bottle of Blue Label in far away United States when it is not your favourite, and I wasn’t there? It was another way of saying: I don catch you! We must have earlier sent the picture to him without suspecting that he would use it to yab us! That was J-One for you.”
“I considered it a huge privilege to have maintained a close relationship with J-One. Not a day went by that we weren’t in touch. He played a significant role during my daughter’s marriage in 2018.”
“For over six years, everyday, by 6am, my mobile telephone will surely beep because J-One has sent a scriptural message/prayer for the day. The last of such prayer messages to me came on February 17 exactly one week after we had seen.”
“After reading through the message and praying with it, I called him later. Again, he said something that could have given me a hint or an intuition that all was not well: he thanked me again and again for the call. This was out of the ordinary. Puzzled, yes, but I could not make anything out of this.”
“Why would he thank me repeatedly for a normal call! The only thing I observed was that his voice was low. Apart from thinking that maybe he was still in bed, I could not envision anything else. If there was any foreboding feeling, I made nothing of it because it was not strong enough. I could neither read his mind nor perceive a serious anomaly.”
“The turning point in my curiosity dawned on Thursday, February 18, when I did not receive the daily dose of spiritual meal from him. Unfortunately, that also did not ring alarm in my inner being because I thought he overslept. Then on Friday February 19, I had a call, first from one of our mutual friends who said he had unconfirmed information that J-One had been hospitalised.”
“Shortly after that, G-One responded to my earlier call to confirm the news. He went ahead to tell me of the sickness, which was not quite detail enough.”
“He concluded by stating that J-One was not to be seen by visitors. Though I got worried, it did not sound like something that could claim a life reputed to have commanded several warships in the Nigerian Navy and emerged triumphant. I was wrong.”
“Things moved so fast from this point. We were left breathless. We could only pray and hope. The next information was that he was in the Intensive Care Unit. Again, no one could provide any detail as to what exactly was happening.”
“My subsequent interaction with his son, Wilson Omogbale Aikhomu, on telephone, provided a little more enlightenment on what was wrong. Worried, tensed up and helpless, all we could do, as intimate friends, was to pray, sit back and hope for the best some kind of good news. Unfortunately, that did not come.”
“Then early in the morning of Thursday, February 25, the shrill tone of my mobile telephone disrupted my sleepless thoughts in a very unfriendly manner.”
“As I saw the identity of the caller, my heart melted in fright. It was G-One. I could perceive him taking a deep breath. I knew he had bad news for me. Then he spoke with unusual incoherence. We have lost J-One.”
Instantly, my world crashed. Everything around me died. I cant recall when the call ended or whether I said anything. Streams of uncontrollable tears flooded my eyes.”
“My memory rushed back to January 31, 2009, when I lost my best friend and confidant my wife. I am still wishing this were a bad dream that would soon end. But it does not look like it. Adieu my J-One.”