Joseph Udegbe – A Tribute
I, like most of our core group of friends (Emma Coker, Enyi Kanu, and John the boss etc.) met Joe 44 years ago when we were admitted into the Pre-Degree Program at the University of Benin.
I have a vivid memory of my first night in school as I was settling into the guest room assigned for newcomers this young man, Joseph, walked into the room. We were still teenagers. He was a friendly and talkative fellow and introduced himself as someone who was staying in the guest room because he was not yet comfortable enough to move into his allocated hostel, Hostel O. Joe decided to spend one last night in the guest room, and in a way I was happy with his decision to spend the night in that room because the third occupant of the room that night was the hairy chested and scary looking “Chairman” Goodluck Achoja, who had been walking bare chested around the room all evening.
We formed a friendship that has lasted all these years, bringing our families together in a way that few friendships do. I met all of Joe’s 12 siblings except the oldest brother Dan. I knew Sister Carol and her family, and Frank, the late Mike Pedro, Greg, Julie, Benjamin, who were like my siblings, and the younger ones bookended by Gabriel. Joe also knew my family the same way. Papa and Mama treated me like another of their many sons, no less.
Joe was a presence. You had to know he was there. More importantly, he was a confident, intelligent and reliable person who took pride in everything he did. He was also very dedicated to his faith. He was Catholic and having spent some of my time with his family it was obvious where that faith was rooted. His father lead family prayers at 6:00 am unfailingly every morning. I remember a personal trip I made to Uromi in the early 90’s for the burial service of an in-law, I spent the night at Papa’s home. I arrived late in the evening from Lagos. After exchanging niceties with Papa and catching up on the gist of the day we all went to bed. As usual at 6:00 am Papa was summoning the family for morning prayers.
Joe loved building things. His woodworking business, Wood Links, grew out of that love. His mind was always imagining what he could put together from virtually anything. His first product was a divan bed made from cylindrical logs of white wood, waste material from a match factory in Ibadan combined with waste pine wood from Delta Steel Company, Warri, extracted from crates that were used to bring in equipment and spares from Europe. This divan bed was an instant hit. Everybody wanted one. Being crafted from free waste elements, the divan was sold for cheap. Working with him at that time I always marveled at the way he could put the most complex assemblies together in his mind. He was a hard worker and he applied his mind and brawn to his beautiful wood construction projects. After a long time away from each other and meeting in Boston again in recent years, I saw that his many years of working in wood construction had sharpened that instinct. He had a” beautiful mind”. It was a pleasure discussing engineering problems with him. He always had a very innovative approach to solving problems.
Joe formed friendships everywhere he went. In Warri at Delta Steel he knew “everybody”. The same in Port Harcourt at NAFCON, even as a spouse at his wife’s University, going out for a beer in the staff club you got the feeling he was an insider as he chummied with the professors. In a way he was the glue around our core group of friends because of the individual and personal relationships he had with each of us and a lot of those who pay him respects here.
Most of all. Joe loved Bola and the family they created together. He loved to dedicate himself to his wife’s success and took great pride in Bola’s and the children’s achievements. He worked very hard to make sure they got what they needed to succeed. It is no surprise that their family boasts three Ph.Ds in Bola, Aide and Aigbadon. Zafe is obviously on the way to doing great things from that inspiration.
I am pained that Joe would lose his life from an ailment that few people (in the West) die from these days. In normal circumstances Joe would be treated and cured in a few weeks. Two of my pastors and two of my close friends and many more men are survivors and are living productive lives.
He died because of our negligent health care system back home that failed him.
At the end of it all, and with God’s help, he was able to seek treatment in the United States.
I cry for my friend but I take solace in the fact that he has left a worthy legacy that his family and all of us can be proud of.