KWENU: Our Culture, Our Future

Remembering Dad

Acho Orabuchi

Dallas, Texas, USA

aorabuchi@netzero.net

Sunday, June 12, 2005

As the sobbing tears became endless when I was reading dad’s last letter to me, so did my tiring hand that kept wiping my tears-drenched face become energized. When I was going through some information, I stumbled into the last letter I received from my dad and a copy of funeral oration presented at his funeral. At first glance, it didn’t hit me. But half way through the content of the letter, I became consumed with a powerful emotion.

The letter reminded me of my dad, who went to be with the Lord over a decade ago, September 11, 1992 to be exact. When my father was preparing to go to the hospital, he went around the kindred to greet everyone and to advise them to keep the peace until his return; never did he know that he was exchanging his last greetings with his people. According to my sister, Mrs. Victoria Onyeakusi, who attended to him in the hospital, “Dad was okay when he was leaving home for a minor surgery; he was okay after the surgery. All of a sudden, his health had a drastic turn around for the worse.” The rest is history. Considering the level and quality of medical service in Nigeria, the story is all too common.

Prior to going to the hospital, I had been communicating with my dad on the phone to tell him about the progress I was making in my academic program. When I concluded and defended my dissertation, I communicated the feat to him. The night I called to inform him of my successful defense and the date for the commencement, he was elated and enquired if he could come. Without hesitation, I affirmed. After the conversation, I hurriedly sent an invitation to dad to come and witness the commencement—when his son’s name would be called and hooded on August 15, 1992 for a doctorate degree—the opportunity he never had. My graduation invitation that I sent to dad never reached him before he went to the hospital. Sadly, that invitation never made it to the intended recipient till today. Well, my father died about three weeks after I received my doctorate degree.

Coming back to dad’s last letter, I am reminded of the person. A strict disciplinarian, who had a flair for instilling responsibility, values, humility, a person that avows community success, a complete humanitarian.  The letter conjured up mixed memories laced with happiness and regrets. Happiness that emanates from the fact he raised me well and was there for me irrespective of my stubbornness. When I tried to assert my independence, it was dad that would come in to redirect my youthful energy to what he thought would benefit me when he is gone. I regretted the fact that I did not have any physical interaction with my dad during his last 10 years on earth. The last time I saw my dad alive he was 60 years old and that was in 1982 and he died on September 11, 1992. That was sad!

I still agonize over the invitation letter someone probably stole. He needed the letter to visit USA and use the opportunity to receive a medical treatment. Unfortunately, when he needed the invitation letter most, an unscrupulous fellow left him in the lurch. In any case, according to his last letter, he died with happiness.

Dad’s last letter to his son

August 8, 1992

My dear son,

I hope you and entire family are doing fine health wise. I am getting better ate present. Emeka is processing my passport at Lagos. By now I am sure they might have finished by now. Odinaka left home for Lagos yesterday; he will give me detail of what they have done at Lagos.

I have not got your invitation letter yet; maybe you have not posted it yet. However, I am looking forward to receiving it. Maybe after your convocation or anytime, I am still sick.

Now Dr. Acho you have achieved what I expected of you; if I die now I’ll not regret it.

I wish all of you a happy time & God’s Blessing. My sincere greetings go to Ngozi & entire family. I love them all.

Your father,

M. I. Orabuchi

(Michael Ikedinobi Orabuchi)

Dad led a life of distinction anchored by commitment to humanity and common good. He never wavered in his pursuit of peace, justice and humanity. This could be attested by the series of orations read at his funeral.

One of the orations:

Funeral Oration presented by the General President of Ogberuru Patriotic Union (OPU), Barrister I. I. Okorie, on behalf of Ogberuru Autonomous Community on October 9, 1992 at the burial of Engr. Mike Orabuchi. The Excerpts:

Dear Compatriots,

Today in Umuele, Ogberuru we have gathered to pay the last respect and tribute to the great son of Ogberuru—the late Mike Orabuchi. Death has again unleashed its venom on the community. Mike Orabuchi has fallen. Oh death where is thy sting? Where is thy victory?

Mike as he was fondly called had a very humble beginning in life. After his primary school education, he enlisted into the then colonial army and fought during the Second World War [WWII] and came back as a Sergeant having served under the Engineering Corp. Because of his experience he was quickly absorbed by the then E.N.D.C. on its formation as the Engineer in charge of all its pioneer oil mills in the then Eastern Zone of Nigeria. After the Nigerian Civil war, the Pioneer oil mills were demobilized and Mike saw his exit to start an independent life.

In his lifetime Mike Orabuchi was a lover and maker of peace where ever he found himself. He served Ogberuru community meritoriously, as the General President for the 2^nd term running and his zeal and patriotism were glaringly manifested. He brought in revolutionary ideas into Ogberuru and placed Ogberuru in its proper perspective in the scheme of things in Orlu L.G.A. It was during his regime in Ogberuru that the present progressive ideas started and accelerated to its present height. He stood out strongly in defence of Ogberuru Youths against conscription into the army during the Nigeria-Biafra war and he fought relentlessly against all forms of injustices, oppression and victimization.

Until his death, Mike was one of the Patrons of the OPU and participated actively in helping to solve various problems that surfaced in Ogberuru.

The community is greatly aggrieved for the loss of this great son. He had run the race and finished well.

After reading dad’s last letter, I felt I lost him yesterday. Though dad had left us, he equally left a tower—a beacon—in my domain. I will forever remember him. As we celebrate Father’s Day on third Sunday of June, I will continue to remember my dad.