MADE

Yinka

His name was Yinka. He was my older brother. He had just died, and this is the story of how he lived while he lived. In a little sleepy town called Nabor in J-town was once his home and mine plus our Mom, Dad and three other siblings.

If ever a man lived who never lived, that would be my older brother Yinka. What's happened to you? why do you drink so much? what's wrong with you? don't you care about your health, future, mom, and siblings? I care is why I drink so much. I wish I could care less Yinka said to me on the fateful night I confronted him with his drinking problems. He drank too much and all for what? because he cared too much; what a strange way of reasoning, but that was his reason before and after he was no more.

He was walking back from work when he was brutally knocked down by a speeding car whose driver was drunk. It was such an irony that a drunk of a man would be killed by another drunken man-oh! what a strange world it is. His friend Abraham called me to relay the bad news that my brother was killed and was gone and was no more. Words alone could not express my pain and agony. I couldn't stand up for good three days, I couldn't cry, I couldn't eat and I couldn't sleep and I stayed on Netflix just binge watching movies that I cannot even remember now or even the then; the pain was crippling and excruciating and such was my state until I wept like I was about to die myself. Yinka was dead unbelievable.

Yinka told me he was going to send my money to pay my debts a day before he died. He asked me for 2k which I was having but told him I was not having because I was sick and tired of him. My Mom begged me to forgive him and reconcile with him which I did a day before he died. I can still see his splattered fore head and his unclosable eyes as he lay in his coffin in his white gown. I prayed and prayed for him but it was too late and I keep telling everyone who was willing to listen that God didn't answer my prayers for Yinka. Yinka was a kind hearted, exuberant and easy going young man. He was cheated by the world and betrayed by his friends and family and he drown his heartache and sorrows in sparkling bottles of alcohol until he couldn't stop himself to avoid these.

This story is an eulogy to him. He was 37 years old when he died. He died on the 11th of September 2024 and was buried on the 14th of September 2024. He was given birth to in January 1986. He was a chubby young fellow until his love for drink made him a thin young man who died without knowing love. He was never truly loved but was exploited by friends and foes all alike. He was taken away maybe to a better place or maybe not- only God and the dead knows.

Being a Christian is not such an easy ordeal. We pray to God hoping he would answer us if he wills and wants to and if not, he (God) is still God and still good for we cannot attribute any wickedness and unkindness to God. He is too good to be associated with anything unkind or not good. And I keep reminding myself if only God had answered my prayers my brother Yinka might have still lived and lived well not as a drunk but as a good model citizen and an example of an excellent young fellow.

Dayo was the guy who introduced Yinka to alcohol and he abandoned him when he struck gold working for an investment agency called Fadama which has now folded because it was later discovered to have been a ponzi scheme and Dayo has never held down a job ever since. Dayo's wife divorced him after his lost his job and relocated to her parents home with his baby daughter who was just 2 years old then. Dayo sold his Dad's estate and the house he was occupying to pay off his debts to loan sharks and relocated out of J-town. Now, he is back to J-town but despite that I have forgiven him I no longer consider him a friend. Every day I see him and pain steers up within me I keep telling myself that I wish him well according Scovel it is good for my health. And I actually value my health.

Yinka died in Benin city. He was a Carpenter and was a very good one at that. He was employed by a furniture company where he couples furniture for them but he was always quarrelling with the boss and he was kicked off several times but taken back because he was a good worker and a hard worker when not drunk. He bought alcohol for his friends and neighbours who later chased him away from them when he becomes broke and moneyless. I hurt for him, such a kind guy in such a crooked world. He slept on the streets like the homeless and goes about with his clothes and few belongings in his back pack. He led such a sorrowful life and I feel his pain daily. There were midnights that I would wake and pray for him hoping he was okay and praying he finds true love and gets rescued from the power of alcohol and the darts of the devil in the bottle.

I wished laws would be made to banish the producers and sellers of alcoholic drinks from our community and society at large for it has wreck many a home and ship wrecked many a young adult's life and sent them to an early grave. Alcohol has made no positive impacts in our society or any known society for that matter but why is it still being produced and sold in our streets and markets? Alcohol has always been and will always a destroyer and a messenger of death why not the government send it packing since the average man is too weak to a make the reasonable decision for not to consume it but the make regulations which have not curbed nor regulated it's consumption from its ardent and harden consumers that's why I have said that "most times, he'll is other people".

For alcohol has become an over grown cancer. A malignant tumour that has grown into a benign one. And we welcome this cancer with open mouths and ready cups/glasses. We feel it's freedom to be able to drink when, where and how ever much we wish. And in the name of freedom and fundamental human rights we have become and are becoming daily slaves to our freedom. Who respects freedom that's in detriment to their sanity and safety? who calls it freedom when it steals our husbands, sons, daughters and wives from us? who calls it freedom when it brings forth the monster in each and every one of us? No, even mad men do not call darkness light. But will all our advancement in knowledge and sciences we court more chaos than peace because of our twisted battle for freedom to be free.

I recall my brother Yinka. How he lived with the shame and stigma of being a drunk. Rejected by His siblings and parents and friends. Having no home and society and the only welcome he gets was always from the bottle, which does not stigmatise or betray. It's a constant in such a dynamic world as ours. For generations, it has remained the most constant and consistent in our human society and culture.