Dear Deji:
We are told (and should believe) there is a reason for everything that happens here on earth, and that God has a plan, and that all of life's events are predestined. Yet, it is difficult to understand (or come to terms with) why I am on your account writing this other than for a joyous occasion celebrating another landmark event in our life.
I knew you first as a friend and then later on we became colleagues at work, and it was the latter relationship that came to strengthen our friendship. People at work jokingly said, you could do no wrong with me no matter your shortcomings....I loved you that much.
It is unfortunate that the deep meanings of words have become reduced to nothingness; or how else can I extol the virtues of one of the finest and most honourable men I ever had the opportunity of knowing without such description sounding trite or lacking sincerity?
You were a gentleman, a compassionate individual, a sincere, devoted and trustworthy colleague, a family man, a peacemaker and a fulcrum for balancing two opposing ends of relationships, a hard worker and a professional one to the core. You were the quintessential ambassador of the ARM brand; and no doubt an irreplaceable asset that we have now lost.
I will talk about two aspects of our relationship - golf and work. I have found out in the last few days that you had special relationships with many, many others. How you were able to do this remains incomprehensible to me.
First is that we were both golfers, and though you played more of the game than I did, and with many more other people than I did, you were my own preferred golf partner in the entire universe. It's possible that many of your other golfing partners saw you in that light too. You see, it's one thing to play golf frequently, it's quite another to do so with a constant partner. They do say in golf that, the true character of an individual is revealed while playing the game. It's so true. There were no inconsistencies about you, Deji. You were a man with a pure heart all the way through. You were the kind of person one didn't mind spending several hours with because of the quality and the pureness of your mind and your noble intentions always.
On May 2nd, 3 days before you passed on, we played our last game together - your last game of golf here on earth too. You recall it was a two-ball, which meant only two of us had each other's company for a 4-hour plus duration. Before we tee'd off for hole one, you stopped to congratulate me on my 23rd wedding anniversary and thereafter remarked on the coincidence of ARM's 21st anniversary on the same day. I thanked you and you responded by saying "today is also my 9th anniversary with ARM". We talked about a lot of things but that game proved to be a competitive one indeed. Though I led through the first nine holes, we ended the game hours later with you being the victor; something you hadn't been able to do in a very long time. We had drinks together after the game and set out at the same time only to face that day's horrendous traffic. You slipped ahead in the traffic and you would from time to time call to give an update of the traffic situation ahead of me. I now ask myself how the game of golf will be without you.
For your colleagues at ARM, everyone will easily acknowledge that you were a people's man. You were incredibly connected right from the top to the bottom of the hierarchy and you kept up with all that was going on from your access at the top to even the ARM grapevine that still eludes most senior executives of the company. In a sense, Deji, you were like the inner strand of the cable that connected the top to the bottom.
You were a hardworking and disciplined professional.
You may miss a timeline but never would you the discipline to get the job done eventually and to the desired quality or standard.
Your judgment may be slow but your decisions were never to be questioned nor found impeachable.
You were slow to anger and indeed I never once experienced such an occasion. The most you would say in a game of golf was to mutter the word 'flip'; and I would often wonder, why don't you just say it? It's okay.
You were loved by all and you were a rallying point especially for young professionals.
Above all, you found a home in ARM and you were deeply passionate about the company. You were to take on a new role at an even higher level, which Jumoke was meant to discuss with you later this month. That will now not be. We would forever treasure and miss your rare qualities.
Unquestionably, you were a family man. On the day we last played golf together you shared your anxieties about Damilola getting admission to a good university and I recall saying to you that things always worked out in the end. In the choice of a wife, you knew exactly what you wanted. While people presented suitors of all kinds, shapes and demeanours, you were prepared to wait until Bisi came along. I, too, was delighted by the choice as Bisi's parents and mine had been friends since their teenage years. From your comments, it was obvious you respected and loved her dearly, and a source of constant joy was your nuclear and extended families. This cannot be an easy period for them but which would one prefer - never to experience a good thing even for a short while or to experience a bad thing for a long while? I know which I will choose. Sadly, for reasons that still elude most of us, bad things happen to good people; and such we have to contend with.
Deji, your life has come to serve as an important lesson for me - one never to be forgotten. For us who mourn your sudden departure at this time, we must learn to cherish every day because we never know when it will be our last day, hour or minute on earth. We must also treasure those we love, because they may not be here tomorrow; but while we live, we can love and we can dance and should try to be joyous. In the end, how we live is more important than how long we live.
I thank you Deji for honouring me to spend Saturday, May 2nd with you alone the way we did. To a worthy and distinguished friend and brother, I bid you farewell.
Deji Alli
