It must have been the mid-80’s when I met Uncle Chuks – he was a law undergrad at the University of Nigeria in Enugu, a place I called home. And home was an occasional gathering place for the many relatives who passed through the university. Beards weren’t a thing back then, and most young men went clean shaven. Not Chuks. He stood out, different, with the rugged looks of a ‘bad guy’, and slightly tinted glasses that hid his smiley eyes. He spoke very little, but laughed very loud. I also noticed that Mum had a soft spot for him, like she’d have for a younger sibling. He was Mum’s cousin, and though she tried back then to explain how, it was all a mystery to me. All I knew was he was Aunty Carosa’s last son, and that was all that mattered.
In time, Uncle Chuks disappeared – he’d graduated and headed off to Law School and beyond, a path I would soon thread myself. The next time I heard about Chuks, my Mum had attended his wedding in Onitsha. I wasn’t able to, but something struck me from her narration of the event at the time – His wedding reception doubled as his traditional marriage and took place at his wife Ngozi’s family home in Nkwelle Ezunaka. I’ll come back to this in a bit.
After my graduation from university in the early 90’s, I ended up in Lagos for Law School and National Service. Those two years in Lagos were some of the best of my life so far, thanks to a handful of people – including Chuks and Ngozi. I spent many weekends, crashing out with quite a few other relatives – Uzoh, Ifeanyi, Michael - in the living room of their Anthony Village flat. They were warm and welcoming and never seemed bothered by the fact that their home was a place of respite for many extended family members. I had a comfortable home elsewhere, but it was always more fun to spend the weekend at theirs, and by now I had dropped the ‘uncle’ – probably something to do with sharing beers and the occasional cigarette. I came to know a different Chuks to the one I’d met as an undergrad. Wise, witty, generous, with quite a bit of mischief lurking too. He was a delight to be with.
At this point, I must make the detour back to Nkwelle as I promised. I had grown up around the corner from a well-known family from there, the Nwakobys. And I had designs on their only daughter, Oge. I let Ngozi into my little secret as soon as she became my big sister. By now, she regularly had me over for lunch at her Afribank office in VI, right across from the Law School. She teased about becoming my sister-in-law twice over, plotting for when I’d marry her baby sister, Oge. And in time her teases came to pass as reality. So Chuks wasn’t just my cousin; we were now both lawyers too, and married into the same homestead as I was eventually to do myself.
During my National Service year, thanks to Chuks, I was inducted into the Manason crew. It was just across from my workplace in Alaka, Surulere. I’d meet him there no less than twice a week, and be guaranteed a pepper-soup or suya dinner, a few cold beers, and cash for a taxi ride back home on nights he couldn’t drop me off himself. Back then we all called Chuks by the title ‘Akunatakasi’. I never knew the origins of the name, but once outside his sphere of influence myself, I found myself ‘borrowing’ that title, until I eventually acquitted mine, legitimately ☺ ☺ ☺. I didn’t realise it then, but I was getting an education in many aspects of my Omambala culture that I identify with today.
I left the country soon after, with rich memories of a carefree youth, facilitated by Chuks and other cousins. The UK would not be the same, but thankfully I was blessed to host Chuks at my bachelor pad at least twice, during his first few visits to the UK. Somehow, it never quite felt like I was repaying earlier favours, because Chuks continued to spoil me even as my guest. I was so pleased to learn that he had extended his affection for me to my younger sister, Uzo, who had herself moved to Lagos as a junior doctor.
This was supposed to be a tribute from all of us Ilegbunes. But in spite of the fact that he was Mum’s cousin and almost a decade older, Chuks became my good friend. So I know they’ll forgive me for hijacking this as if it were mine alone. Even through all these warm and fuzzy memories, there were some dark times too, and it is a credit to Chuks that we were able to overcome them, quietly and without fuss.
My dear big brother Uncle Chuks, your passing hit like a bolt from the blue, and it still feels raw. I hope one day soon, we can find succour in the great story of your deep, abiding, loyal friendships. Fare well on your eternal journey, and may you find a place of quiet, endless and blissful rest along with Ngozi too.
Ike Ilegbune (Otuo-Omee)
For your Aunty Theresa and all her immediate family.