The Legends Of Bula

It is not that humans are not aware of the fact that every sojourner in this existential space will one day take an eternal trip to immortality or that they are uninformed about the reality that when a trip to immortality is embarked upon by a soul, it leaves everything in the world behind no matter how precious or important those maybe to him. Why then do people weep when it occurs? Why do they feel sad when the reality unfolds? It could be because some people are so irreplaceable to the extent that no matter how much nature abhors vacuum, they can never be replaced.

My friend Charles Anyanwu whom we called Bula, even in his short frame towered above the tallest of men, his natural aura out shined the finest of everything. Even in his shy and conservative disposition, he still stood tall and unsuppressed by the greatest of personalities. Those were the things that made him thick.

Not an enemy to any, you hate him only if you choose to. His rib cracking jokes and desire to lighten every moody state stood him out even in class.

For over four years and counting I have known him until a few hours before his demise and he remained the same. When for over four years one never had an argument with a fellow so close, when for many years one always encountered a calm-lively personality who always cared for others, when for years one moved along-side  a man who had never fought with anyone, it could give you the impression of a saint.

That takes a mind deeper, according to my friend Tina’s “analogy of a Saint,” she thought that “Saints are people we remember for their commitment and dedication to other people, who took others in even when they didn’t want to but they had to anyhow because that’s what Saints do. Saints never give up, they make sacrifices. Even though they are humans they are defined by courage, sacrifice, compassion and humility.” Those are the marks of a saint and this makes my friend not too far removed from them.

That could also be the reason why I believe that saints are Legends and also could be why I love legends.

A few months ago at an award ceremony where one of my novels was nominated for an award which it won, I was asked by a journalist after the event why I chose to dedicate the book to the memory of my late friend. I told her that I love legends and she insisted that I define a legend then I told her that Legends are not those who lived beyond the bracket of Methuselah but those who made maximum use of the minimum time granted to man by the Divine to impact positively on the world and leave behind indelible imprints in the minds of all who crossed their path and if that is the case, then my friend Bula is a Legend and am proud of the short time he had with which he left everlasting footprints on the sands of time.

 I hope the living borrows a leaf from your life and make hare while the Sun shines because this life we live is borrowed and no one is promised tomorrow, just no one. A year ago you left and today I remember you. Rest in peace Bula; Legend.