And he died (Part 3)

Years passed and with the passage of time our friendship suffered change. The change was slow, gradual and subtle, but it was forced upon us by the increasingly limited opportunity available to enjoy the closeness that we once enjoyed, and still felt. It was brought on by a combination of factors; first, that we both were engaged in full-time careers; second, that as a family man TJ just could not be there as he had been before. And I was quite understanding of this too, taking every opportunity when it presented itself to visit him at his office at Bonny Camp, at Victoria Island, spending untold hours with him, just being together.

TJ was shortly going off to the United States of America on a training course, and I recall accompanying him from one military office to the other government office as he did the legwork necessary to put together all of the official paperwork for his trip; me dressed in my smart dark business suit, he in his even smarter Army Major's uniform; a uniform that caused doors to open with an alacrity that astonished me, whichever door it was that we knocked on.

On the night of his departure, we both said goodbye to his family at his home and it was I who drove him to the airport, where, when he had completed the formalities and was just about to go through the gate taking him air-side, his eyes boring into mine, we held each other for a brief moment, our hands on each other's shoulders. The words were unspoken, but they were clearly understood. "Thank you for being my friend, thank you for standing by me." 

Quite a feat, seeing how stiff and awkward TJ always was prior to that, a proclivity that had endeared him to me over the years. It is that evening of his departure that comprises the indelible memory of my friendship with TJ.

I use the word 'memory' because from the title of this story, it ought to have been clear from the beginning that this is not a story with a happy ending. TJ was away for a few weeks and shortly after his return, received a further promotion to Lieutenant Colonel, (he was only a Lieutenant when we first met twelve years earlier). 

I am not sure about this, but I will assume that the promotion also meant that he was qualified for different, presumably more prestigious housing, because he moved house, again. The promotion also led to him being reassigned from Bonny Camp to Defence HQ to do more security sensitive work, working long hours, making him quite inaccessible while at work. Thus not knowing where he now lived there was a period of about a few months after his return that I had no contact with him. And this was in the days before mobile telephony. 

Eventually, contact was re established and it was arranged that he would show me his new place on a date to be specified. 

Some time later, while at my work, a colleague of mine walked into my office with a strange look on his face. He started by stating that he had just been to see General Somebody at Defence HQ. The General was my colleague's personal client, and he had invited my colleague to his office to discuss some personal legal matter. While my colleague was seated in this General's office, some underling entered the room and confirmed to the General that the reports were true. 

Very upset by what he had just heard, the General narrated to my colleague the details of the report that he received a short while before. One of his senior officers had apparently died from a self-inflicted gunshot wound, mentioning the name of the officer. My colleague did not know TJ in person, but he knew of him and knew his name.

According to my colleague the General recounted that over the previous few weeks he had noticed a change in this officer's behaviour. He was withdrawn, and listless, something the General thought was unusual for this particular officer. After the report of the shooting it was explained to the General that the officer (TJ) had discovered that his wife had been having an affair with one of the couple's neighbours. This officer, in a blind rage, had broken into the home of this neighbour, and with his service revolver shot at the neighbour. He then walked back to his own residence, and placing the gun against his temple, shot himself dead, spattering bits of his brain across the wall and the stairwell. 

The bitter irony of this whole incident, was that the wife's suspected lover survived the gunshot and was taken to hospital.

It is impossible through writing to accurately describe or convey how distraught I became on hearing this news. Even after so many years, I don't believe I have successfully in my mind fully articulated my feelings surrounding this whole affair. As I said at the beginning, I shoved it aside, choosing instead not to think about it, in the vain hope that the pain somehow would go away. But it did not disappear, and continues to haunt me. I feel guilt. I feel as if I let down my dear friend. I should have been there for him in his time of distress. 

I believe that had I been aware, and been there for him, he would not have taken such drastic action. I would have been in a position to intervene. He must have felt so alone in his time of crisis. He was not one to make many friends, and certainly not friends in whom he would confide and entrust such a sensitive matter. He was introverted, and very proud; but he would have trusted me, and allowed me to hold his hand through that difficult time. I feel somehow that I let him down. I am sad that he went through such intense anguish, and I was not there for him. 

It is about eighteen years since TJ died, and I find myself for the first time breaking out in tears as I type this. Perhaps writing this story was the catharsis I needed, but if I'm to be honest, I did this not for me alone. I did it for TJ too, and to commemorate that wonderful closeness that we shared and enjoyed, that which two human beings can have between each other. He really did mean so much to me, and I still get the feeling that even after all I have written, I have not done justice to the beautiful thing that we shared. May his soul rest in peace.

Rest In Peace Ter.

(The end)

And he died (Part 2)

After the exams at the end of second year, TJ confided to me that he didn't feel confident about his performance and he worried about the likely results. Nevertheless, that summer holiday was perhaps the most memorable, for despite the fact we were not on campus and I was living at home miles away, (and even on occasion travelled out of town), TJ and I still managed to see each other practically on a daily basis. We had clearly become a significant part of each other's life, but as this was in the '80s, well before the age of the mobile phone and emails, our incessant rendezvous were arranged by strictly kept appointments. Sometimes, I found myself as a guest at some officers' mess or other, feeling distinctly out of place in the midst of all that boisterous military banter. And I recall with some fascination how a shirtless TJ suddenly stiffened and stood to attention when someone, whom he later confirmed was a Brigadier, strode past us one evening as he was walking me to the gate of his compound.

When the results of the exams were finally released, it came as no surprise that TJ had not made it. He would have to resit some papers during the holidays. And despite all of the support that I offered, he still didn't make it at the resit. So when third year began TJ was not seated beside me as he had been for all of the preceding two years. He would have to repeat second year in its entirety; he was now in a different class and was absent in the seat next to mine. It was a strange feeling not having him as a reference point and I suppose that this was when we started slowly to drift apart, being on different schedules and doing different things. By the end of third year, sometimes a whole week had passed before we would meet. And we would meet only either because he came knocking on the door of my room at the hostel, or because I went looking for him at his flat, in the vague hope that I would find him at home and alone.

Third year ended and I graduated from the university, but by this time things were no longer the same. I moved on to one year of Law School located across town, but this was a hectic, intensive course that did not allow for much free time. We weren't seeing each other half as frequently as before, since he remained at the university. And the fact that the nurse, not wanting to leave anything to chance, had now moved into his flat, didn't help matters either. However, that we did not meet as frequently as before did nothing to dampen the intensity upon which our friendship was formed and built, hence my reference to the phrase "more than friends" earlier. On the occasions when we found ourselves together, it was as if we'd never been apart. Sometimes, he would send word through another officer who lived near him, but who was also at Law School with me, to let me know that he missed me, even though such messages were coined in such a way as not to give away the true depth of feeling. And so it went on. 

But alas, my time at Law School came to an end. And while TJ was heading for his own one year at law school, I was winging it more than a thousand kilometres away to a place called Bauchi in the north of Nigeria for my one year of compulsory national youth service. It was during this one year that the distance between us began to grow. After my one year of service I stayed on in the North, and it must have been nearly three years before I made it back to Lagos for a visit. And of course I went looking for TJ, finally tracking him down, although he had been relocated from his bachelor-officer flat to a more ample family accommodation, still within the military cantonment. 

TJ had been promoted, and he had married. And his wife was heavily pregnant, a surge of realisation that sent me reeling momentarily. Before you start wondering, no, she wasn't that nurse that I knew.

All in all it was a great joy to see him again and from what I could tell, he seemed overjoyed to see me too. And the Mrs, well, she was extremely pleasant and welcoming, and she and I got on famously, a fact which effect on TJ was not lost on me. Obviously, she meant a lot to him and the joy that he exuded was palpable, almost tangible. I too was greatly happy to see such joy in his eyes. And when he dropped me off that evening, sitting together in the car, he let me know that my presence on that day brought it all together for him. I'd never seen him so happy.

Moving forward in time, I eventually moved back to Lagos. By this time TJ and his Mrs had given birth to two strapping boys both of whom I was very fond of, and I would visit them frequently at their new home. TJ had been promoted again, and they now lived in a big house. The boys loved me too, and since I'm quite good with kids, we were a happy bunch indeed.

My friendship with TJ remained pretty much as it always was, quiet, intimate conversations sitting together in the car on a dark street, (I discussed things with him that I could discuss with no one else - and vice-versa, I'd like to think); going for very long walks usually setting out around sunset so as to be together for as long as possible; walks on the beach; me sitting on the side watching him play tennis. I enjoyed being with him. 

And so it went on, for a while, until the day when the news came to me.

(To be continued)

And he died (Part 1)

I have tried over many years to shove this aside in my mind, perhaps in the hope that if I didn't think about it, the pain would somehow be kept at bay. And so it has been for much of the time, although the thoughts have always lingered, hovering around vaguely somewhere inside, intermittently causing me to fail to find sleep, or causing me to awaken abruptly in the middle of the night.

I was 17 years old and it was the first day of lectures at university in the freshman year. The memory is vivid. I was seated at the rear of the huge lecture theatre, taking in the new experience of being in a lecture with a hundred other students; eagerly absorbing every word of the Constitutional Law professor as he guided his new students through what we the students were to expect from the course, and what he expected of us. My attention was fixed throughout on the professor, me assiduously taking notes from time to time, as any good student should. And it was not until towards the end of the three-hour lecture that I noticed a presence seated next to me, to the left. I cannot tell if it was deliberate on his part, but the main reason I had noticed him was that he had positioned himself in such a way that to not notice him would have been impossible. Glancing sideways briefly I registered in my mind a not unattractive older guy, facial hair, well groomed, strong hands taking notes.. Hmm..

So the lecture came to an end. The exit from the lecture theatre was located towards the front, and we were seated at the rear, so we had a few minutes to pack up our stuff and join the queue of students filing out of the theatre. And that was when we met for the first time. I will call him TJ. 

TJ was a serving officer in the army. He was 10 years older than me and had just concluded training at the military academy at Sandhurst in the UK. He was undertaking a law degree to bolster his military career. So while I lived at one of the student hostels within the campus, TJ was resident in a flat in a bachelor officers' building at an Army installation off campus, but not far from the campus.

It transpired that for every subsequent lecture for the remainder the first (and the second) year, TJ and I sat next to each other. And even when we attended lectures at other venues, we would arrange to sit side by side. 

Needless to say, as time went by, we had become fast friends, and ever closer. And it would be fair to say that we became even more than just friends, since we would spend most evenings together hanging out at his flat, watching movies, listening to music, or just talking. He liked talking to me it seemed, and maybe I too enjoyed listening to him talk. He played tennis, and I enjoyed hanging around the courts on campus watching him play; and sometimes we would study together, at the library or at various reading rooms.

And he had a girlfriend too, some nurse at the Army hospital, who from time to time would show up at his flat. But this would throw a spanner in the works as far as I was concerned, since in her presence our conversation would take on a different tone, and become quite less personal than it usually was. He felt safe with me in a way that, I suspect, he didn't feel with others, including his girlfriend. 

Then, perhaps in compensation, TJ would whisk me off on a long drive in his car, twice taking me across the border to Cotonou in the Republic of Benin on a day trip. I was particularly impressed by the way he flashed his military ID at those goons in Customs uniforms at the border post, and how they jumped to attention and waved us through, lol.

(To be continued)

On climate, hotspots and poverty..

It is, of course, poor people – and especially those in marginalised social groups like women, children, the elderly and disabled – who will suffer most from [climate] changes. This is because the impact of humanitarian disasters is as much a result of people’s vulnerability as their exposure to hazards. – CARE International (2008), Humanitarian Implications of Climate Change: Mapping Emerging Trends and Risk Hotspots.

What is a climate hotspot?

A climate hotspot is an area that is facing particularly high impact from global warming and climate change and is most vulnerable to its deleterious (or injurious) effects. With regard specifically to environmental factors and global warming, a hotspot can be assessed using the indicators below (from http://www.climatehotmap.org/). It’s important to keep in mind that the impacts from climate change reach well beyond the natural world, affecting social, political, and economic arenas as well.

Fingerprints

Indicators of a widespread and long-term trend toward warmer global temperatures, including:

Heat waves and periods of unusually warm weather, which can lead to increases in heat-related illness and death, particularly in urban areas and among the elderly, young, ill, or poor.

Ocean warming, sea-level rise, and coastal flooding. “A continuing rise in average global sea level would inundate parts of many heavily populated river deltas and the cities on them, making them uninhabitable, and would destroy many beaches around the world,” according to the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC), a group of 2,000 scientists which advises the United Nations (Tacio, 2009).

Glaciers melting. As glaciers continue to shrink, summer water flows will drop sharply, disrupting an important source of water for irrigation and power in many areas that rely on mountain watersheds.

Arctic and Antarctic warming. Melting permafrost is forcing the reconstruction of roads, airports, and buildings and is increasing erosion and the frequency of landslides. Reduced sea ice and ice shelves, changes in snowfall, and pest infestations affect native plants and animals that provide food and resources to many people.

Harbingers

Events that foreshadow the types of impacts likely to become more frequent and widespread with continued warming.

Spreading disease. Warmer temperatures allow mosquitoes that transmit diseases such as malaria and dengue fever to extend their ranges and increase both their biting rate and their ability to infect humans.

Earlier spring arrival. An earlier spring may disrupt animal migrations, alter competitive balances among species, and cause other unforeseen problems.

Plant and animal range shifts and population changes, in some cases leading to extinction where warming occurs faster than they can respond or if human development presents barriers to their migration.

Coral reef bleaching, which results from the loss of microscopic algae that both color and nourish living corals. Other factors that contribute to coral reef bleaching include nutrient and sediment runoff, pollution, coastal development, dynamiting of reefs, and natural storm damage.

Downpours, heavy snowfalls, and flooding

Droughts and fires. Along with the human toll, sustained drought makes wildfires more likely, and crops and trees more vulnerable to pest infestations and disease.

The case of Burkina Faso

What makes Burkina Faso a hotspot? Along with heat waves and prolonged periods of unusually warm weather, Burkina Faso has been increasingly facing a number of the harbingers listed above, including extended droughts, downpours, and flooding, along with unpredictable planting seasons.

Jan Egeland, the UN Secretary-General’s Special Adviser on conflict, has called the Sahel region of West Africa, which includes northern Burkina Faso, “ground zero” for vulnerabilities to climate change (IRIN, 2008, “Sahel: Region is “ground zero” for climate change – Egeland”). He further observed, “Climate change in Burkina Faso does not mean there is less rain, it means that rainfall has got less predictable. And weather overall has become much more extreme. . . . [in 2007] in Burkina Faso, there were eight rainfalls over 150mm – that means eight major floods in one four month period. The alternative to floods is basically no rainfall – it’s all or nothing, and either way is a crisis for some of the poorest people on earth” (IRIN, 2008, “Sahel: Climate Change Diary Day 1”).

A report on the The Humanitarian Implications of Climate Change (2008) commissioned by the UN Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs and CARE International identifies the Sahel region of Africa as facing “high overall human vulnerability” to climate change in the coming decades. Burkina Faso is identified as one of the hotspots at risk from climate change in another recent study as well, which focuses on countries in sub-Saharan Africa most vulnerable to climate change (Thornton et al., 2008). Both studies looked at a combination of environmental, social, and economic factors in assessing vulnerability.

Burkina Faso has one of the highest poverty rates in the world, and the majority of the population relies on subsistence agriculture, making the Burkinabe particularly vulnerable to the impacts of climate change. These factors combined with a high rate of illiteracy, a poor communications and technology infrastructure, and a struggling education system combine to make Burkina Faso an important country of focus for a study not only of climate hotspots.

See here Earth Education

My Fifteen Minutes Of Fame

For a while I was undecided whether to title this post 'Fifteen Minutes to Save the World', a play on Madonna's song '4 Minutes'. I settled for the one above because this more accurately describes what happened last evening when I was invited by a Dublin radio station, Dublin City FM 103.2, to participate in a 'lively discussion' on the crisis in the Horn of Africa, broadcast live. My role, I think, was to bring to the discussion arguments from the perspective of the angry and frustrated African since I have previously strongly made the assertion that African governments and their peoples have repeatedly demonstrated an almost shameful lack of interest in and concern for the very serious human tragedy that is the drought and famine in Somalia and other countries in the Horn of Africa.

I received the invitation only a few hours before the scheduled live broadcast and hence had insufficient time to notify everyone, although I did put out the word on Twitter and Facebook. The last time I was on a radio show was on the BBC World Service and as far as I am aware, nobody who knows me tuned in then. When BBC Radio 5 invited me subsequently to join in a discussion on the then impending Nigerian National Assembly Election, I dis-invited myself for reasons I had no control over. So yesterday it was important to me that somebody listened and that they should give me some reaction afterwards.

And fortunately just five minutes before the show began my niece who lives in Lagos, Nigeria said "Hi Uncle" on Facebook. After hurriedly explaining to her that I was on the cusp of joining in a live radio show, I sent her the web link to the radio station's website, since the show was to be broadcast online as well. And so, apart from the several thousand Dubliners who were tuned in and would have heard my 'passionate' and 'heartfelt' remarks, a member of my family too listened in.

And the reaction she gave when we chatted afterwards was good too. I mean my niece is no pushover, (she holds a Masters Degree in International Business from a top UK university and holds down a senior position in the banking world), so her reaction really did matter to me. I was concerned because I know of my tendency to be ardent and impassioned, (which even years of advocacy before the courts has done little to improve), especially when the subject-matter is one about which I feel strongly, as yesterday's was. I feared that I would stall and stammer, as occurred while on the BBC World Service, when uncharacteristically I stammered and was tongue-tied, and ran out of words altogether, lol.

But no, it was great to have the opportunity to express my views concerning this very important issue, the importance of which going by the evidence, few Africans seem to be aware of, or to be interested in. Many are nonchalant - the African Union has coughed up a measly $300,000 in relief aid, whereas, the British public alone have so far put together donations amounting to in excess of £44 million. My niece later commented that there was little talk appreciation or awareness in Nigeria of the seriousness of the crisis; in a situation where even the governments of Africa believe that in times of crisis such as this, relief ought always to come from elsewhere other than Africa.