Maybe farewells are the hardest things to write. I’ve cancelled this section more times than I can remember.
I read about the death of this guy from Fantasy Queen’s blog.
The Cunning Linguist was a fantastic blogger. In his active days, he ran one of those blogs that you quickly visit to get some dose of humour, wit, and sometimes irreverent intelligence (same as Jaja, Atutupoyoyo, Chxta, Afrobabe, Porter deHarquort , 30+, Allied, Naija Fine Boy, Tayo Odukoya, Naapali, Hyena’s Belly, Omoalagbede, NigerianDramaQueen, Moody Crab, Jinta, iGwatala etc etc)
I remember those fun days when it was very common for bloggers to express their cyber love for other bloggers. Then, “Blog Crush” was a common term on Nigeria blogging space. In the midst of all the reading and writing, female bloggers will “fight” amongst themselves at the slightest instance if they suspect that another lady blogger was encroaching on their “crush” territory. I often wonder how the male bloggers felt being “owned” mostly by people they’ve never met. It was a funny time. Ozaveshe was crushed over by a lot of them. By Bumight too. One of them (I can’t remember her now) made a post on him that she met him one-on-one, and that post triggered another form of envy from other female bloggers. Dude had a way with the ladies. I suspect he is the reason Afrobabe never hit on me. (Maybe she was in denial)
It took a while before I knew that I know the face behind the blog. Someone at my former place of work showed me his picture and I was surprised that his path and I had crossed before. A lady was involved. She was my friend and former classmate. Ozaveshe was making advances towards her. I used to ask the lady why she won’t give in to a fine boy like Ozaveshe who, by his demeanour, oozed a great deal of comportment.
I think I was already reading his blog at that time. Another mutual acquaintance we shared – Emeka, once asked if I knew a “certain blogger called Ozaveshe”. I said no until he gave me his blog URL. “Oh, I know him. I know him as The Cunning Linguist”. It’s easier to know bloggers by their blog names than their URLs.
Sadly, he lost his battle against cancer.
Only memories will serve us now: that he made people laugh, that he shared his intelligence, that I once asked if his blog name was a deliberate visual distortion of “Cunnilingus”.
Good night, blogger.
In another unrelated news...
"Overrated” was perhaps my closest pal amongst my colleagues. Great dude. I’ve known him before I joined the agency: first, as the guy who sat opposite me at a Chinese restaurant for a send forth occasion of a friend who was leaving the country. He maintained a smug pose. I’m not sure now, but I think he strolled in late with his lithe frame carefully balanced on a pair of crutches. Second, as the guy I was going to have a long and heated chat with some months after in which he confirmed my suspicion that within that frame of his is a brain bursting with enough energy for disruptive marketing ideas.
Few days ago, he walked towards my corner of the office, rather briskly, with an indecipherable tinge in his eyes. I knew from the approach that he wasn’t coming to “test” an idea with me as we were both fond of doing. (Our last “experiment” was The Impossible Brief. We both came up with loads of ideas, challenging each others’. Exhausted, we left it - left it to exchanging blames on who gave up. I had the last say when I yelled “Leave me, I didn’t kill Jesus). Whoever solves that brief should be awarded all the categories of The Nobel Prize, I think.
“Maan mi, I’m resigning. Now!”
I was convinced he wasn’t joking when he unmouthed those words. It was a startling decision. He stood motionless in front of me for about 5 seconds. The expression on his face fluctuated between fury and frankness. I’ve never seen him like that before. The idea of resigning had not crossed his mind before that morning. I know. So, what the heck? I gave a puzzling look as he moved to his seat.
He did drop the letter for whatever reason(s).
Stupid boy. Now I look back and see that his exit has ushered in a rather uncomfortable relief. We used to exchange banters, poke fun at anything possible, clog each other’s official email address with internet links, laugh at annoying clients etc.
An intelligent and extremely restless dude, he exhibits the temperament of a tortured artiste who will fight against any incursion to bend his art. He writes for a marketing magazine. I will miss editing those write-ups, and especially those moments when he excitedly rushes to my seat to share an idea or act a gaffe or spit some dirty thoughts rummaging in his mind.
Yo, I wish you the best as you conquer other territories.
May I not write any farewell soon!Tweet