We met at work, and friends we became. He was biggish in stature, light in complexion, with full bulging hands. He was a lawyer par excellence. God took Nutifafa away last month.
It was a shocker when I got the news. I was in Nairobi. I did not go for my intended beer afterwards. I know he wanted to be a political power player, a kingmaker. He did not want to be the face of politics, he wanted to control politics from behind. He had already begun this tiresome journey. I know he was going to complete it.
He was loved by his daughter. And he loved her as much. We sometimes spoke about his wife. He loved her too. I never met her, maybe I will. We sometimes spoke about sex. He loved sex too. We were the only two guys married at the firm, so we had a connection. Sometimes when I got too busy, he would advise me to go home to my wife.
We went together to the Volta region. We went to his father's house. We chatted all the way and back. We had wanted to start a flower project in Ghana, the first of its kind under greenhouse. He was providing the land. We found the water salty. We had wanted to desalinate it, creating another project. i will still have to set up a flower project in Ghana. For him. I will. I already have the land. I now need the money.
The same aflao road that we used took him away. the same road we traversed in tranquility. I had wanted to visit the accident scene. I had very little time. In Ghana they celebrate the life of a person when he passes on. In Zimbabwe we mourn, sometimes for weeks, or even months. We bury our dead within three days, four at most. We slaughter a beast to feed the people. It is said if you do not weep visibly at the funeral of a friend or relative, you are a witch. you may be accused of having eaten the dead.
Nuti, you made a mark in my life. I will never forget you. You remain my hero! go well dear friend, till we meet again in Heaven, rest in eternal peace!
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