OPEN LETTER
to BONIFACE NWANYAMA NJANKENJI,
also known and called Ni Boney affectionately (now in heavenly places).
Ni Boney, my entire world was devastated when the sad and shocking news of your passing on reached me in the wee hours of Sunday the 25th day of April in the year of our Lord 2021. It's Ba Nkeuti Gwanyama who did the breaking sad news as he arrived his home at Upper Marlboro, after he and his lovely family had spent the whole Saturday evening visiting my family and I in Frederick.
You had just left us rather unceremoniously. It was before 1:00 AM Eastern Time (or before 6:00 AM West African Time). It was still dark in either location. Death was sure to snatch you stealthily under the cover of darkness because it knew if it came in broad daylight, we (your dear family and great friends, even some valiant foes) would see and fight back, if fiercely. Trust me.
When Ba Nkom Tita Robert pre-deceased you (just one day shy of three weeks before) on 05th April, your cousin and infant friend of yore, Ba Nkeuti Gwanyama, told me you were hospitalised in the same clinic at Bonapriso where Bob had passed on, but that your case was far from life-threatening. That explained away why I had been finding it hard to reach you by phone to condole with you upon Ma Helen Tata's death. Of course little could I (or anybody for that matter) imagine that the end was imminent, in sight.
We last met on 26th February at your Bonaberi Ancienne Route shop (where we shared some non-alcoholic beverage on you), moved to a joint, one or two hundred meters away (where you did not drink even the good wine you selected) and, then to DK Hotel, when we saw off Ba Nkeuti back to the US, who had been around for the twin funeral of his two brothers who had both departed in quick succession, within weeks. We (in the company of your wife, who was also your friend, inter alia) took pictures in funny postures (always wearing broad smiles on our gleeful faces) which have suddenly turned out to be memorable souvenirs now that you and Bob are no more. If anybody had told me that in under two months I would be talking about you in the past tense I would have looked at "that anybody" with a bad eye.
Your father and mine were great friends and as one of the signs thereof, they gave the same marriage names (Sadmia and Nahnyuma) to their respective wives. As another sign of friendship they did cross-border trade together between Cameroon and Nigeria. As yet another sign of friendship they were members of the same njangi groups in Bali.
We grew up to inherit that friendship. But it is an open secret that, because your business sense was quicker than mine, you inherited their business talent. I must thank God for making me to know you as brother and friend whom I was wont to calling, brotherman.
Boney, to those of us who had the privilege to have you as friend and brother, you were such a soft-spoken, genial, cool/calculating gentleman (of good fortune) who would keep good company all the time anywhere, cracking practical jokes that caught fire always. With a knack of telling short interesting stories, you were friendly and pleasant. This made your society cosy and attractive. In effect each time I found myself in your company (whether in the comfort of your plush office, perched at the left wing of the top floor of Keh-mvi Tower in Bamenda or, elsewhere) I would want to stay on and on.
Your business acumen was exceedingly high; so high that you had the trappings of a prodigy. In just ten short years, 1997 to 2007, you made your mark (indelible as it were) in the business landscape and became something of a household name as member of the economic elite of Bali.
If intelligence is defined as the ability to adapt quickly/positively to new situations, then you would be said to be of superior intelligence. The way you adapted in record time as IDP in Douala speaks for itself. Before they knew it, you had suddenly overtaken many people who had been operating in Douala long before you came, which confirmed the old saying that "life is like a motorway in America with several lanes, overtaking (by the right or by the left) is allowed". Anyway don't worry, Mamon Adele, who went through the crucible of your mentorship will continue with your good work. I trust her.
Ni Boney, now that you have proven that you can be faster than some of us, in more ways than one, me thinks it is time for us to discuss some rather personal matters. I remember you had some health issues as far back as more than a decade ago. Your nerve problems made me to introduce you to Dr Clet Tchaleu (a neurologist) in Bonapriso in 2009 or some time thereabout. Soon thereafter you told me of BP issues and that your doctor simply advised you to slow down. But is that enough reason (or excuse) for you to have left the scene so soon, without whispering goodbye even to your lawyer? Needless to say legion are the people who have lived with those conditions to a ripe old age.
You were a very careful and health-conscious person and I admired you for that (discipline). With the outbreak of COVID-19, you know how frequently you did steam therapy at your waterfront home in Bonaberi. You also know how often you did voluntary COVID tests to be sure you were safe and sound. For this, Mamon Adele can bear me witness. To the best of my knowledge you never abused any substance. For short, with the exception of when it came to 1) looking for money and 2) loving your wife, you were the quintessence of moderation. There is a saying that "blessed are the moderates (in lifestyle) for they shall inherit the earth". Yet you departed so soon - at such a relatively tender age. Anyway what you did in just 52 years is what the average man would not achieve in even a century, thus confirming the adage that "it is not the years in your life, but the life in your years, that matter."
Looking at it from this more or less assuaging angle, that by-the-way you lived a life fulfilled, my conscience is now clear to say, "adieu brotherman" as I imagine you in heavenly places singing hallelujah in the midst of the army of angels.
Before I drop my pen, only one request, please: intercede before St Peter to enjoin the heavenly host to watch over your surviving dear wife (a good woman) and illustrious son (a young man with a bright future) who are now abandoned to themselves in the middle of nowhere sort of.
May your dynamic soul rest in peace, perfect peace, as you shall remain sorely missed. Needless to remind you that the vacuum your untimely departure has created in our hearts is yawning.
Fare thee well.
Feh Henry Baaboh, Esq., your brotherman (in Miami)
for Ma Jab and the kids.