It is with a very heavy heart and profound sadness that I write this tribute to a close family friend, a colleague and a gentleman in the person of Oluseyi whom I have known for over forty years.
I first met Seyi in Lagos at Arthur Andersen & Co. He had joined the firm a little over nine months before I joined in July 1979. Throughout the time I served at AA & Co before moving on in January 1989, I was in regular and constant touch with him as we both worked on many audit assignments before he moved on to the tax division. In fact, Seyi is the only person I know who worked in all three divisions (audit, consulting & tax) of the firm. This is itself a testimony to his cerebral prowess, an aptitude for learning new tricks of a trade and an incredible ability to adjust and adapt to new circumstances. Little wonder he was able to deliver first class and unblemished professional service to all his clients. Undoubtedly, these qualities saw him rise to the very pinnacle of his calling. Although it is a very long time ago now, there is no forgetting the fond and cherished memories of some of the assignments and engagements on which we both worked. Space, not time, limits me to just three of them.
As freshmen in accounting and audits, we were severely challenged when we worked at TOPCON, the exploratory arm of Texaco in Nigeria. The accounting terminologies were far from the routine exposures during the rigorous training sessions we had had. The technicalities of oil & gas accounting were, to say the least, exasperating. Even though we did not want the client staff to perceive our ignorance, most of us on this assignment were often moody as we had to wade through a confusing maze of accounting jargon and an unwieldy system. However, as daunting as the task was, Seyi managed to have a smile on his face all the time. He was not unduly fazed by the very long hours we had to put in. Indeed, Seyi got on with the client’s staff so well that they all felt at ease with him whenever he came asking questions and probing with the typical forensic disposition of auditors.
Then, there was the time we were shipped off to the Detroit office with two other colleagues for basic training in the firm’s Management Information Consulting techniques & methodologies. We found ourselves in the deep end of a pool – learning how to code in some obscure computer language in order to work on a major new assignment for the firm in Lagos. All four of us were often in a state of quandary. We had to do this coding stuff which was basically writing in dots and strokes. Whilst we were trying to find our feet, Seyi quickly grasped the nettle and within a relatively short time, he too started to speak using weird symbols, dots and strokes. He even had some time to spare for watching his favourite sports: football (not soccer!) and basketball. Sadly, we were not able to put our newly acquired skills into use. By the time we returned to Lagos, the contract for the project in question had been “pulled”. Much to our collective relief, we were re-transferred to the audit division.
Seyi and I worked on many other assignments and projects in Lagos, Warri, Kaduna, Maiduguri, Port-Harcourt, Abidjan and Dakar. But the most exciting and thoroughly exhilarating assignment we both enjoyed was a yearly one week stint auditing the accounts of a client at Mkar, some five miles north of Gboko in Benue state. We were the only ones in the office who ‘volunteered’ to go to this outpost, the local branch of a Utah based missionary organisation. It was a hardship location in every sense. The assignment was more of an endurance test than a professional challenge. We would travel to Makurdi by air, then to Gboko by taxi and thereafter to Mkar by mini trucks. Upon arrival at Mkar, our first task was to go to the local village market to do some food shopping for the week. We were responsible for preparing our meals throughout our stay. Our bedrooms were not the safest abodes as we were constantly advised to be on the lookout for deadly poisonous snakes that may crawl in at night, creep through the bed sheets and inflict their deadly bites. I recall Seyi aways joked that at Mkar, one must be able to sleep with one eye open.
The books of account at Mkar were more of a challenge to our linguistic abilities than our accounting / audit skills. The trial balance was partially in Tiv language. This had to be fully translated into English and properly coded before we could proceed to the tasks at hand. We tried to not ruffle our clients by asking too many questions. The staff was very polite and quite helpful. As always, Seyi was very fond of them – joking, back slapping, teasing and even playing pranks. By the end of the week, it was obvious that his vocabulary of the Tiv language had been enhanced. For many years after and as recently as a few weeks ago, Seyi and I started our conversations in customary Tiv greetings.
The news of Seyi’s sudden death is one of the toughest and shocking matters that I have had to grapple with in all of my life. I just could not process it. Coming so soon after the burial of his sister, Kehinde, I found myself asking and wondering if this was a morbid or cruel joke. Alas, it is true. So I am tempted to join in the mournful wailing and shedding of tears. But I do not want to do that. Rather, I want to dwell on the notion that it is not how long we live that matters. It is how well. Seyi lived a full, happy and fulfilled life in ALL its ramifications. With Seyi around, there was always laughter and fun. Wherever he was, Seyi uplifted the mood in his own special way. He was a thoroughly compassionate, caring, kind-hearted and loving individual and family man. There was nothing that could stand in the way of him being in touch with the three girls in his life – Catherine, Melody and Amy. Our daughters have mournfully remarked that Uncle Seyi was the first person they knew as an uncle – well before growing up to know the real meaning of that word.
Seyi was not one to burden others with his problems. He was not one to allude to innocuous and nebulous “ethical standards” in a way that was pretentious or even hypocritical. He strived to live what he preached – Peace, Love and Happiness. Even the way of his departure was without any fuss: quietly and peacefully; in his sleep.
A certified Life Coach, Rob Liano tells us: “the sorrow we feel when we lose a loved one is the price to have had them in our lives”. My thoughts are with you, my dearest friend. Your memories linger. Your smile that cared; your listening ear, your goodness shared. My wish is your restful eternal peace.
Adieu my good friend, Oluseyi.
Joe Uwagba
Thursday, 11 March, 2021
