“Come on in” Adisa groaned as the knock on his door persisted. It had roused him earlier but as he levitated between sleep and wakefulness he had assumed he was dreaming it up.
The young boy who came in handed him an envelope wordlessly and slipped out the door. Turning it over, Adisa saw his name scribbled on the envelope and opened it.
“no way” he screamed as the sleep raced out of his eyes.
Gingerly, he turned the envelope over to confirm the name again as he began to read it again with a sinking feeling.
“Dear Adisa, I will visit you on the 20th of this month” yours truly, Death.
Scared out of his skin, he refused to share such news with anyone. Neither his best friend nor his wife heard anything about it.
“I will be going to Ibadan tomorrow” Adisa informed his wife that night as they lay in bed.
“Ibadan? What came up?” she enquired gently while rubbing his head
“An urgent business. I will tell you about it when I get back the day after” he responded curtly, taking her hands away from his head
“alright, a short visit then” she reasoned and drifted to sleep
on the morning of 20th, Adisa left home and set out for Ibadan. “let the stupid death come, so long as it is within my powers he would not meet me at home or in town” he huffed angrily as he boarded his car and drove off.
Some kilometres alongside the Lagos-Ibadan expressway, he noticed an elderly man on the roadside frantically waving him down. He was dressed regally in Agbada robes and looked out of place standing there. Out of pity for him, Adisa stopped and rolled down his windows;
“where are you going to sir?”
“which way are you going to?” the old man returned
“Ibadan” Adisa replied
“Yes, same here” the old man responded
“come in then sir, I will drop you of”
As they drove off, he introduced himself
“my name is Adisa, I live in Lagos”
“I know” the old man remarked calmly
“You know me sir?” Adisa cast a surprised glance at him
“yes, very well” he smiled sardonically
“what is your name sir?”
“Death”
Adisa almost lost control of the steering wheel as he gripped it tightly
“I mean what is your name sir? He blurted out now sweating in the air-conditioned car
“did you think that tearing up my letter and running away from home would stall the appointment we have? If you paid closer attention you would have noticed I said I would be visiting you but there was no venue given” the old man smiled wryly again as he brandished a sickle from the folds of his dress
The last thing Adisa remembered was the screech of his tyres as he skidded off the road.
This was one of the earliest stories about the inevitability of death that I got told as a child growing up. As a child it left such an indelible print in me that each time I hear about any funny death, I recall Adisa running away to Ibadan to go meet death as it was told us that day.
During the #Wigwetributes as I listened to Sola Faleye recount how he tried to dissuade Bamofin from joining them on that trip, all I could think of was Adisa and how he left the comfort of his home and ran towards death in his bid to escape the appointment.
