We do not have a photo together, no memories of trips together but you left a meeting of a life time. I am broken by the news of your death. So heavily that I begin to wonder maybe I should never have responded to that message. Well, I didn’t at first. Maybe I should never have offered you that drink so you wouldn’t have sent me a thank you message, then I wouldn’t have had to respond. I didn’t think much of it, just extending courtesy to Ebuka’s friend. You wouldn’t have come to deceive me with your friendship.

Not in a very long time have I met a 26 year old that impressed me this much. Quite accomplished but so humble, so kind, so meek, gentle yet so aware and smart and fun and genuine and fearless. In a few weeks you have shared so much of yourself, becoming a favorite. You shared of your aspirations and we would talk through and plan them out. I would ask what you want and you would say pray for me. Maybe I should have prayed more.

You were going to go for your next development course but was worried if you showed early interest they might make you miss your sisters wedding in September, or Ebuka’s wedding in October, or your friend who will have your head if you don’t make the wedding in November. You preferred to delay that progress for three months to be there for these people.

That’s who Peter was. He gave so much and was always quick to reject favors. Always quick to tell me that I didn’t have to bother. Now I wish I did more, but I didn’t even know what to do for him. But I am glad to have done what I could. I remember his message to me accusing me of always feeling like an Angel when I offered to help with his dad’s present.

Peter, it was what you gave that you got back; I mirrored you to you. I have ordered your fathers pen with his name engraved as you requested, it will be delivered next week and I will ensure it gets to him as I pay my respects to you.

I think of your last moments and I know you would have been more concerned about the passengers. I wonder what it was like grappling for your life, seeing death in front of you, and being stuck in the tight cockpit of a helicopter struggling to remove the seat belt. Will you have that signature smile on your face as you finally let go?

I didn’t think it was you that deserved to lay lifeless in a polythene bag but the Lord has asked me, “who are my to determine when and how?”

I am beginning to accept that the world didn’t deserve you, God only sent you to show us what he would like us to be and snatched you quickly before this world messed with your kind soul. You have gone to the rightful place with the father.

Heaven is where you belong.

Rest well Champion!

I can’t begin to imagine what Olamide Adedeji feels or Ebuka Obi Uchendu or Noble Igwe, who you always revered and said to me gave you your first job, or the multitudes who have all kind things to say of you.

Or your mother and father you spoke so highly of. They were your ultimate role models. I am glad I encouraged you to take them to dinner on their last trip. You almost missed it but somehow you didn’t and they loved it. Your sisters you spoke of often with so much pride, Ajoke and others

Time can’t heal this wound but God will touch everyone of them with peace and release succor around them in love.

You are a Champion for life and I wish the world knew you while you were alive. I do hope that everyone of us will take a little lesson from your life and live more purposefully, being truly kind and sharing genuinely wanting nothing back.

We love you, Champ!

Odigbere, odoju ala, odi ari na ko.

Omo oko, okurin meta, Peter K. Bello II .

Sun re!