| Urhobo Historical
Society |
A
Tribute to the Memory of
Oghenerukevwe Oritsetsegbemi Scott-Emuakpor
1940-2013
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By Ajovi Scott-Emuakpor, MD, Ph.D.
���when we truly
love, it is never lost. It is only
after
death that the depth of the bond is truly felt,
and
our loved one becomes more a part of us than was possible in
life�
Everyday
since the passing of my baby brother on May 15, 2013, I have
not stopped crying. At first, I felt guilty because that is
not what my brother would want me to be doing, but I could not
help myself. However, the more I cried, the more I was at
peace with myself, and the more I am able to shed all of my
anger, all of my pain, all of my frustrations and all of my
deep sense of loss. It made me realize, as the English Sage,
Henry Irving, said:
�There is sacredness
in tears. They are not the mark of weakness but of power. They
speak more eloquently than a thousand tongues. They are
messengers of overwhelming grief, of deep contrition, and of
unspeakable love�
My
brother is the fifth son of my mother�s five sons and he is
the seventh son of my father�s seven sons. Our closeness in
age, made us almost inseparable as we grew up. We became
adolescents together and we became adults together. We had
similar likes and the same dislikes. Strangely enough, we had
the same spiritual yearnings, but chose to explore our
yearnings in very separate ways: his was unique and mine
traditional. We both faced challenges in exactly the same way,
with calm philosophical resignation. When he was struck with
Prostate Cancer that had spread everywhere in his body, he
never cried foul; and when he was told of the incurable state
of his disease, all he was most concerned about was how to
spare his loved ones from knowing that he was fighting his
last battle. The secrecy surrounding my brother�s terminal
illness has hunted me since his death.
I
had traveled from the United States of America to see my
brother in Aberdeen. As my sister -- the last child of our
parents -- and I walked into his hospital room and he saw us,
he greeted us with a very happy smile and he proceeded to
dismantling our anxieties. In answer to my sister�s question
as to how he is doing, he said, �I�m where God wants me to be
at this time.� While I was still digesting that answer, he
began his characteristic story-telling, all of them hilarious,
and launching us into one episode of uncontrolled laughter
after another. He was a master joker who could joke about
almost anything, including the illness which, at that time,
had confined him to bed for 3 months. All of the painful
events in our lives had an aspect to it that he could joke
endlessly about. Such
was my brother�s courage -- joking and playing in the face of
an impending death. Indeed, any coward can fight a battle he
is sure of winning, but a man of courage chooses his battles,
sometimes fighting when he is not sure of winning. My brother
knew he was losing this battle but he was stoic.
People
have often said that when someone dies, their �SPIRIT� lives
on in loved ones. Really? Does my
brother�s spirit live on in me? I can�t hug him or look into
his eyes. I can not sleep on the same bed with him again. How
do I really know that his spirit lives in me? Over the past 4
weeks, I can feel him. I can hear his jokes and the sound of
his voice. I can hear him make fun of our elder brother�s old
Volvo car. For no reason at all, I think about him. The most
trivial things will trigger profound and fulfilling memories
of him. That brings comfort to me that I can still feel him in
my heart.
My
brother attended school at St. Patrick�s College, Asaba, Delta
State of Nigeria. He then attended the University of Nigeria,
Nsukka, where he studied Physics.
He was in his second year when the Nigerian Civil war
disrupted his studies. A year later, he ended up at the
University of Ife (now Obafemi Awolowo University), in Ile-Ife, where
he graduated with an honors degree in Physics. In High School,
he was a great soccer player who represented his school
elegantly until he sustained a serious left knee injury that
left him unable to walk for several months. Even in
excruciating pain, he never complained one day; rather he
found his twisted face of agony as a situation to joke about,
making everyone forget about his pain and the circumstances of
his injury.
After
his Bachelor of Science degree in Physics, he took a job with
the Ministry of Education of our home state (Midwest, then
later Bendel) where he developed
his passion for Secondary School education. He was an
Education Officer who taught Physics at almost every level of
secondary education in the State, inspiring generation after
generation of students, all of whom are very proud to call him
an extraordinary teacher.
He
participated in a Temple University program for High School
Science Teachers in Nigeria, at the end of which, he was
awarded a Temple University Master of Arts degree. He rose
through the ranks, becoming a Chief Education Officer, and
later, an Adviser to the Commissioner of Education in our
newly created Delta State. His talents and passion as an
educationist were profound, creating in him an insatiable
desire to make every young man and woman fall in love with
Science. He and his close associate, Mr. Robert Shokare, conceived of a project to
write high school science textbooks. Their first volume was a
chemistry monograph published with borrowed money. As our late
brother-in-law, Mr. Edward Akaraiwe
of blessed memory (himself an outstanding refined secondary
education administrator as High School Principal), put it,
�the book was so well written, the yearning by students to
possess a copy so over-reaching that he enthusiastically gave
them all away on credit�. This project halted when there was
no more money to publish new volumes. He never stopped telling
hilarious stories about his unsuccessful efforts to collect
money from the high school teachers to whom he entrusted the
sale of the books. I wish my brother wrote down his stories.
My
brother was very loyal to the Civil service where he served.
He despised laziness and was very impatient with mediocrity.
He would be the first to criticize the inadequacies of the
civil service, but will also be the first to defend it to
those who sought to exploit its weaknesses. He was modest to a
fault. He lived in the most modest of homes, used the most
modest of furniture, drove the most modest of cars, and
dwelled in the most modest of neighborhoods. There was once I
told him that he was too modest and his answer to me was,
�modesty is inverted pride and pride can never be too
inverted�. I am still searching, even now, for the meaning of
that response.
I
have lost my charmingly modest younger brother who always made
me laugh. I have lost a great conversationist,
and a story-teller. Somehow, I believe that he designed his
death to tell us a story. I am still searching for that story
and, I believe when I find it, it will make me laugh
uncontrollably. I have lost my younger brother who taught me
humility, laughter and family. The value of laughter remains
his lesson for all ages. Every time I laugh, I will remember
him and be laughing with him. Every time I remember him, I
will laugh, hopefully with him also. We, all the generations
of Scott-Emuakpors, will take
great joy in standing shoulder to shoulder as one, to grieve
my departed brother.