children's day. He attended secondary school at Gindri Boys, Jos. He
joined the air force as a flight officer. He benefited from the Gen.
Ibrahim Babaginda coup as Governor of former Gongola state, was in
charge of the Nigerian Security Printing and Minting Company. He
retired as an Air Vice Marshal. Sought no political office, invested
in Aluminium sheet production. He died 5 days after his birthday.
This is what the public will know. What the public does not know however is:
He was my mother's very close friend. I was 8 years old when we met, &
I was sceptical of him at first. I'll paint the picture for you as
best as this handset will allow. My parents had been seperated 5 years
when we first met. I didn't have an alpha male in my life. I'd even
forgotten what my father looked like for a while. My mom was my world
(along with Batman, comics & television... I was a kid.) & I didn't
take kindly to anyone getting into the mix. I realised almost 20 years
later that he needed genuine friends around him, as powerful men are
wont to do...my mom's as genuine as they come. I didn't like how my
sister took to him so easily. It was when I was a teenager when we
started to talk. He was the first person to treat me like a man.
Sunday lunch at his home was curried chicken and rice. Traditionally
in Nigeria, the gizzard belongs to the head of the house. When I
picked the gizzard (unthinkingly, mind you) on one of those sundays, I
was reprimanded immediately by everybody seated at the table. Except
him. He brushed off the complaints by saying,"He's a man. Give him his
gizzard."
To get respect, you must give it. He got my respect at age 13. He
never lost it. Ever. I would spend about 2 hours every sunday, talking
with him. He spoke about pilot school in Canada, where you could play
football till 10 pm in natural light. He giggled at the memories of
being a cadet with a shaved head and wondering if he'd made a bad
career choice. He spoke about being human & tolerating it in other
people. He had his driver take my sister & I to school along with his
nieces Rebecca & Magdalene. Rebecca was so beautiful, my sister's
friend. Magdalene was a cherub with a stammer & a fear of talking
dolls (chucky wasn't cool). We're all grown up now. Haven't seen each
other in years. Rebecca is a mother of two. Don't know about Magdalene
yet.
I remember something about him that should be remembered. He was
married to a shrew. Too much of a gentleman to raise his hand, he bore
her boorish attitude until he divorced her. Her behaviour cost him
being the Chief of Air Staff. His wife would have been the chair of
the Air Force Officers' Wives Association. She didn't fit the post so
he didn't get his. I remember that when I'm tempted to mourn lost
love. No one really knows what's around the corner. He'd have made a
fine Chief of Air Staff. He also liked to pretend to be slow. His mind
was a serrated edged knife. He'd play slow to pick up, but he was
playing slow to anger. I took that from him. I took a lot of things
from him: Never be in a hurry, be patient with people, forgive, trust,
it's ok to be näive once in a while, know what you're doing, respect
first principles, vices come & go so choose yours well, don't stretch
yourself to please anyone other than yourself, be protective,
responsibility is expected of you so keep your head up & your
shoulders straight, true love isn't always romantic, how to be wise
isn't always clear until the moment has gone so keep your head at all
times, respect everyone, give with both hands & God will add to you in
return, to kill is easy as any coward will tell you, surrender isn't
defeat (of Shonekan), listen to both sides then conclude, your mind is
your best weapon so keep it sharp at all costs, forgive everything but
remember the lessons, people can suprise you pleasantly so give them
room to do so.
As I write this, I'm near trembling from the loss. My dad was jealous
of my relationship with uncle Winston. I wouldn't blame him(in form 4,
I came first in my biology class, I told my dad who proceeded to
intimate me with my other subjects. When I told uncle Winston, he was
happy & said he was proud of me).
He was more than an uncle to me. He wasn't a good father in the sense
that he wasn't available to his kids as they grew up. He made up for
it with me... I will do him proud. I promise myself that. I did it
once when my geography teacher, who knew him, threatened to tell him
of my poor grades if I didn't pick up. I did. I'm not tripped by
geography, but I crammed that shit into my brain until I could recite
the stuff in my sleep.
Good night, uncle Winston. I know you understand that this is for the
few who can understand. You'd have liked them too. I know it.
--
Sent from my mobile device
6 comments:
This write up is very true of AVM Winston Aleyideino, at least from the very little I knew of him, as my late hubby's friend and Baptisimal Godfather of our son Winston.
May his gentle soul find sweet repose in the Lord.
I was a good friend of "Bob" Aleyideino in Kaduna, Nigeria in 1966-68. I was a US Peace Corps Volunteer. He was a great fellow. Unfortunately, with the Biafran War, we lost contact after I returned to the United States. My condolences to his family.
Jack Lyons, Kirkland, WA USA
Uncle Bob was my dad's classmate in Canada and at Bracknell...continue to rest in peace sir
If th writer is Mary's son, I wl like his mother's comments. I married my husband as a Lieutenant. (NAF was using Army ranks then.) I was wth my husband thru thick & until he retired as AVM. His career trecords both within & outside Nigeria recognised me as a helpmate. All glory to God,th Enabler. He never served in Gongola. He had political appointments in th last decade of his military career. So th idea of becoming th CAS didn't arise. There is no regret abt his career. It was a brilliant & fulfilling one. My booklet at his funeral is a thanksgiving to th Almighty & a testimony to His blessings. Most likely, this Remi has no copy of my booklet his mother was not at th burial. Her absence was not because of me but for th reputation sh earned herself as a sponger among our family & friends. Even among members of Gindiri Old Students' Association on whose. Platform Mary had unrestricted access to our home. I don't remember this Yemi at th Sunday curry lunch. But what I kno is that I was th cook whose food included th gizzard he can't forget. Surely, there is something spiritual abt sharing meals wch reveals th ugliness of betrayal of a discontent sharerer. After all, Judas rose frm that special meal to betray Jesus. Any discerning reader shud be able to read between th lines of th stark remarks made against me. When I hear frm Mary,Remi's mother, I wl send copies within th family. It wl surely make a good reading as a COMEDY OF ERRORS. If u've read this far, thx. Mrs Aleyideino.
I saw this write up more than a year ago, I avoided making a comment and I was actually unhappy about the write up because the writer wrote out of sentiment I guess and gave false impression of auntie Funky, but as she stated in her comment one could read between the lines and unfold her hidden generosity and care. Rebecca and Magdalene were her husbands nieces, how come they were living with her?. I am surprise the writer did not mention Ian and Sira meaning having limited knowledge of the family. I respect the courage of auntie Funky who brought up children that were not hers yet you could not tell. She went out of her way to make sure that her husband's daughter was moved into the family which cost her her family and home. Yes she is a principled person but yet a mother, all the children she brought up at tender age are well cultured Ian, Ebun and Sira. I salute her courage and I pray that God will open Remi's eyes and not allow the principle of what you saw, you reap.
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