Raymond Aleogho Dokpesi: My silent song, our silent grief, By Clement ‘Afe Afemike

“As the apple tree among the trees of the wood, so is my beloved among the sons. I sat down under his shadow with great delight, and his fruit was sweet to my taste. He brought me to the banqueting house, and his banner over me was love.”—Songs of Solomon 2: 3-4

Here in my study where I sit in the gloom of my eternal grief, I am gripped by the apostle of weakness and grief; I am deadlocked, my brain numb. For a while I can’t immediately find the strength to write another tribute to DAAR. I try unsuccessfully to summon my memories of my over two decades with late High Chief Anthony Aleogho Dokpesi but the emotions of these past days and years stir within me and reawaken, as if in the interim they had jokily slept.

The incredulity and grief of his transition to glory are yet fresh and unfaded in me, and I dare say everyone else who interfaced with DAAR while alive. His death is still fresh in our minds, refusing to fade out of memory—can a personage as Ezomo ever be excised from memory? The remembrance of him and his death still sends ripples of pains pulsing through my muscles. However, the prospect of reminding the world about the personality of the late Araba and his many great deeds lifted my spirit like the prodigal son’s dream of home with his father.

By this October 25, 2023, it will be exactly 149 days since that day in May 2023 when the death bell tolled for the great High Chief Anthony Aleogho Dokpesi.

Every day since that May 29th 2023, I behold DAAR’s face on the large framed photograph leaning imposingly on the wall whenever I walk past the magnificent wrought-iron gate leading into the equally magnificent mansion of the late media magnate; I see his interrogative and soul-searching eyes as vividly as if they were still alive, beckoning industry, hope, kindness, philanthropy, and humanitarianism. So, too, is his saintly fighting smile alit on his lips transmitting joy to my heart–joy now ruined by death.

Yes, any time I approach the main entrance door of the James Ibori building that houses the newsroom at the Corporate Headquarters of DAAR Communications Plc in Kpaduma hill, Asokoro, I usually stop to take a studious look at Dokpesi’s soul-searching eyes on the portrait of him on the glass door and, as always, I see in them the milk of human kindness—and I also feel that virtue curdling inside of me.

Daily as I watch my colleagues perambulate the Kpaduma hill languidly since DAAR’s death, what I see behind their smiling faces are a people weakened, individually, and in a paroxysm of pain. Yes, these past 149 days since Ezomo’s been gone from us have seen us going through pains, agony and sorrow.
The many days and moons have flowed by manically and serene after his death. We’ve been grieving, not able to come to terms with the reality of his death—something colossal and indefinable continues to defrost in our hearts, leaving a great emptiness for which reason cannot account.

Yes, these past 149 days have been very emotional, we are uncertain of our place in the scheme of things in our Nigeria, especially with the new federal authorities in the country and the winner takes all kind of politics we play in our corner of the world. And, to recall that DAAR believed so much in the Nigeria project—the unity and prosperity of the country and her people.

Great Ezomo, since you’ve been gone everyone has been asking ‘which way to go now?’ With you was gone a beautiful humanity—a certain D.H. Lawrence noted long ago that, “Beauty is a thing beyond the grave.”
With you was gone a rewarding sense of brotherhood, a more focused and purposeful agitation for the all round good of the masses.
I confess that your death has taken from us something massive, something irreplaceable.

Oh our great hero, Ezomo, the stamina of your gonzo virtue was indeed high and impactful. The amount of support we, especially me, had with you is still an entirely indefinable measure. DAAR, you understood that one of our duties in life is to help wipe away the tears, help lift the fallen. Great Araba, you were the kind of leader who was always ready to rescue the life-beaten and troubled human. I dare say that in the realm of humanitarianism, you were first among your contemporaries—you saved and helped to preserve the honour of thousands if not millions of ever-growing number of men and women who needed a solid ground to eke out a living. Indeed, you saved prestige for many, you gave them opportunities in your companies and in your life to strive and thrive; you nourished hope in millions, you instilled courage.

Ezomo, you were indeed sensitive to the needs of others–you were a container filled with Godly virtues, a bundle of encouragement, a ship load of cares and very empathetic; dispensing goodness everywhere and to everyone else.

Great son of Agenebode, I haven’t forgotten your constant desire to place people—men and women of different ethnic groups, religion and race whose destiny depended on your good graces—over your personal interest. You were our own “Samaritan who soothed his wounds with olive oil and wine and bandaged them.”

I still remember your subtle commands to get things done in DAAR Communication Plc. The sound of your voice keeps reverberating in my head, in my heart in a dozen different languages, word by word, wheeling and counter-marching and forming meanings to me in an infinite variety of uncommon ways. You were always prepared and willing to lead the throng in every battle or struggle. Ah! Those wisdom packed words with all their purposeful, life-giving efficacy—words from a man who lived so selflessly and very sacrificially.

Today, those your very encouraging, comforting and soothing words keep ticking over in my mind as some kind of monotonous accompaniment to the melody of my silent song that carols with equanimity along with me as I trod on in life’s tortuous journey.

How very sad that before that May 29th date we didn’t have any clue of the impending darkness. There was no indication, no sign of a terminal illness. Maybe we could have prepared for your death. You were still your usual ‘Uduakhui,’ the lion-heart, the great Ezomo of Weppa-Wano kingdom; very daring, unrelenting and industry personified. Indeed, we didn’t see it coming—perhaps, we could have run to ‘Eledumare’ creator of the heaven and earth in intercessory prayers, supplications and fasting, to get him to spare your life and prolong your years; you certainly had lots of unfinished works to finish, great Araba!

If anyone had joked about you dying or made chatty remarks about death on that ill-fated May 29th date, I am sure millions of your well wishers would unhesitatingly have snuffed the life out of such a person, perhaps.

But there we were in our different locations on that day, our eyes glued to TV sets as Bola Ahmed Tinubu was being inaugurated as Nigeria’s 6th democratically elected president. No doubt, our attitudes, individually, on that day were sober and judicial, with none of us capable of either vetoing or expressly approving of the presidential inauguration. Again and again our beloved country, Nigeria, was on another test run of its democracy on that May 29th 2023 and the late Ezomo knew this and was ready to ask questions and fight to get the right things done for the good of the great people of Nigeria.

But, we were ignorant that death was discreetly working its spanners on Ezomo, one of humanity’s greatest souls that hot Tuesday afternoon. The Grim Reaper fooled us all as it went berserk and ended the great Ezomo’s life! It’s a pity that on that Tuesday afternoon, the doctors gambled on blind odds to save his life. And, sadly, High Chief Dokpesi left us!—You left your beloved family, your DAAR family scattered around the world. And, sadly you left the entire Nigeria floating! Most of us have merely attempted to turn the supreme moment of your death into the index of an episode in a play which might be chortled over in later years

Your death is like a nightmare to some of us. It is difficult to stomach your exit from this world—we are to-day still sucking the sour grapes. We have only managed to go through each day in a slow sobering mood. Nothing appears to hold any meaning for some of us or interest me particularly. We are still shocked, still crying, still mourning you, but with a silent melodious song in our mouths for you indeed attained and scaled heights even the spirits may never dare.

I know you were not tired of life. You were very full of life with lots of projects lined up for execution. What’s more you had millions of people whose lives you planned to continue to touch. You had your lovely children and beloved family members you wanted to keep loving and guiding on the path of life. Yes, you had a great dream for DAAR COMMUNICATIONS PLC, for humanity and for Nigeria–you loved Nigeria and made her UNITY your project!
Politically, it’s not in doubt that High Chief Raymond Aleogho Dokpesi showed the way to millions—even people with different political ideologies and his bitter political enemies embraced his gospel with alacrity. They all saw Ezomo as a visionary and a credible guide. They realized his big dream for all persons and for Nigeria our fatherland. Late Engineer Dokpesi was indeed the man for all, the man for all seasons!

While alive, every October 25th was usually a grand day for you—this October date would not have been different. There would have been tantalizing invitations to your birthday party. The Gazebo would have hosted your close pals. The world would, as is customary, stand still for you as you would have celebrated your 72nd birthday anniversary. Ah, it hurts me that you are no more with us, Ezomo—a realization that indexes my sorrows and grief to the last decimal.

As I struggle to write this short tribute on your posthumous birthday anniversary, let me assure you that we will only continue to celebrate you because that’s what you rightly deserve.
Today and always my soul will sing a silent song of gratitude to you and thanksgiving to God for the life you lived and for the very rare opportunity to have interfaced with you, Ezomo of Weppa-Wano kingdom. I agree with the great Argentinian writer, Jorge Luis Borges (1899-1986) when he said in his epic book, “Labyrinth” that, ‘Everything which happens to a man, from the instant of his birth until his death, has been pre-ordained by him… Misery requires lost paradises…Death (or its allusion) makes a man precious…” In our minds DAAR will always remain precious and unforgettable in our memories.

Our late founder, father and benefactor, I remember you just as you were: a rose in humanity’s garden. You sowed seeds of love, care, kindness, compassion, humility, boundless generosity, industry; you were a go-getter and one who had respect for all human beings. In the words of Oliver Smith, you preached sermons with your life more than with your mouth. You were the great Iroko tree in our forests! You were our miracle.

Ooh, High Chief Ramond Aleogho Dokpesi, my SAINT OUT OF BONDAGE, it’s difficult to convince oneself that you’re truly dead. Your death is one too painful. The tears in my eyes, the ache in my heart, the vacuum created are so unbearable. Ah, great Ezomo, you were indeed a rare stamp—the world recognised you as such as we continue to mourn you amid celebration.

True, as succinctly put by Stephen Vincent Benet, “life is not lost by dying; life is lost minute by minute, day by dragging day, in all the thousand small uncaring ways.”
Ezomo will forever continue to live in our hearts because his care for people was beyond human comprehension.

For some of us, knowing him and working for him at Daar Communications Plc has helped us to maintain our dignity and build networks that have proved very helpful and life changing. I dare say that his death seems to have closed the last page of a chapter in our lives, indeed the noblest and most beautiful chapter.

Ah great Ezomo, would I ever again smile, laugh and be vivacious and be truly happy as when you were alive?
I’m very conscious of this French saying that, ‘sorrow does not harm, but over-joy does.’ ‘(Apes Banbance, Pentence).

DAAR’s death makes me to see the wisdom in the words of Stephen Spendey that, “Life is a perpetual confronting of oneself with vague immensities.” With DAAR around I personally felt courageous, even when I stumbled along the darkest path of life, because I had him, Ezomo, as a star to show me the way.

I am consoled by the realization that in God’s heavenly kingdom, dead loved ones will be restored to life with the prospects of never dying. Yes, all those sleeping in death who are in God’s memory will be brought back to life, and hopefully, we will meet again sir.

Keep watching over us my dear big brother and benefactor, keep watching over your media conglomerate, Daar Communications Plc.

DAAR lives on!

Continue to rest peacefully with the LORD your GOD, High Chief Anthony Aleogho Raymond Dokpesi, the great!!