April 9, 2021
April 9, 2021
Tokunbo, my sister, my running mate, my sparring partner.
"All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players: they have their exits and their entrances; "
When we were young, it was as if we were twins. We were very much alike in physical stature, voice and mannerisms. While our younger siblings bowed to Yoruba tradition on our return to Nigeria in 1962 and to them we became ‘Sister T’ and ‘Sister F’, I refused and insisted on calling her by her name. Afterall, there was less than a 2 year age difference between us, and we did virtually everything together.
Early on, our lives were intertwined and on similar tracks. By a fluke of fate, in secondary school, Toks was the last set of the 6 year WAEC programme and I was the first set of the 5 year programme, so we sat for the WAEC exam together. We separated thereafter for ‘A’ levels in different schools which we again sat for in the same year, but met again in the then University of Ife where we both read law and graduated together.
We both spent our summer vacations, working at the Nigerian Television Authority, acting in drama programmes such as Village Headmaster and Play of the Week.
We even got married within six months of each other!
After marriage, our paths disengaged and we became separate entities, developing separate interests, she in politics and I in law. We realized that we were not twins, and our lives were no longer intertwined. As the years passed, we became engrossed in bringing up our families and after Ntie passed on, Toks was a mother hen to her daughters; they were her life, her ‘raison d’etre’, the true centre of her existence.
We often disagreed on issues and in recent years, we came to accept our differences in interests and outlook. Toks had strong views on many subjects, and never hesitated to voice them, no matter whose ox was gored. She cared less about being ‘politically correct’ or observing any societal norms that she disagreed with. At a ‘certain age’ wearing boubous becomes ‘the norm’ in Nigeria; Toks insisted on her Ankara knee length skirt suits which became her trademark dress code. If she wanted to say something, or do something, she just went right ahead.
Toks lived in the moment and had a ‘joie de vivre’ that made her the life and soul of any gathering. However, although she valued her friends and her relationships, she also valued her privacy. She had a few health challenges, which she would brush off, if you asked. ‘My eyes are growing old before the rest of me’ was her response to my enquiry as to her perceived sight issues. If I proffered health or dietary advice, her answer was ‘death will find something to latch onto when it is time!’
Writing this, I thank God for the times we had together, for the outings we shared, for the laughs we had together, for the arguments we engaged in. I wouldn’t have had it any other way.
Loved you then, love you still, always have, always will.
Funke.
Your ‘aburo mi ni’
"All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players: they have their exits and their entrances; "
When we were young, it was as if we were twins. We were very much alike in physical stature, voice and mannerisms. While our younger siblings bowed to Yoruba tradition on our return to Nigeria in 1962 and to them we became ‘Sister T’ and ‘Sister F’, I refused and insisted on calling her by her name. Afterall, there was less than a 2 year age difference between us, and we did virtually everything together.
Early on, our lives were intertwined and on similar tracks. By a fluke of fate, in secondary school, Toks was the last set of the 6 year WAEC programme and I was the first set of the 5 year programme, so we sat for the WAEC exam together. We separated thereafter for ‘A’ levels in different schools which we again sat for in the same year, but met again in the then University of Ife where we both read law and graduated together.
We both spent our summer vacations, working at the Nigerian Television Authority, acting in drama programmes such as Village Headmaster and Play of the Week.
We even got married within six months of each other!
After marriage, our paths disengaged and we became separate entities, developing separate interests, she in politics and I in law. We realized that we were not twins, and our lives were no longer intertwined. As the years passed, we became engrossed in bringing up our families and after Ntie passed on, Toks was a mother hen to her daughters; they were her life, her ‘raison d’etre’, the true centre of her existence.
We often disagreed on issues and in recent years, we came to accept our differences in interests and outlook. Toks had strong views on many subjects, and never hesitated to voice them, no matter whose ox was gored. She cared less about being ‘politically correct’ or observing any societal norms that she disagreed with. At a ‘certain age’ wearing boubous becomes ‘the norm’ in Nigeria; Toks insisted on her Ankara knee length skirt suits which became her trademark dress code. If she wanted to say something, or do something, she just went right ahead.
Toks lived in the moment and had a ‘joie de vivre’ that made her the life and soul of any gathering. However, although she valued her friends and her relationships, she also valued her privacy. She had a few health challenges, which she would brush off, if you asked. ‘My eyes are growing old before the rest of me’ was her response to my enquiry as to her perceived sight issues. If I proffered health or dietary advice, her answer was ‘death will find something to latch onto when it is time!’
Writing this, I thank God for the times we had together, for the outings we shared, for the laughs we had together, for the arguments we engaged in. I wouldn’t have had it any other way.
Loved you then, love you still, always have, always will.
Funke.
Your ‘aburo mi ni’
