Can I Have My Jide Back?

It was supposed to be an ordinary day in Class 3C at Ojota Secondary School, but Jide could never have predicted what he would encounter. Jide, a teenager who bore a striking resemblance to his father, Chief Ogunbanjo, was broad-chested, friendly, and unassuming in nature. Though he shared a deep bond with Yemi Okunoren, the lively “omo Mama Londoner” from their early days on Adewokun Street, Jide had a distinct sense of character and discipline.

That day, however, something jolted him. “What is this!?” he might have exclaimed, alarmed by what he had just seen. He had likely moved to another part of the classroom when his eyes caught a shocking sight—a male classmate fiddling with a female peer in an act of clear impropriety. Though the act was meant to be discreet, Jide’s sharp gaze uncovered it. His face betrayed his disapproval, reflecting a deep sense of decency and moral conviction. While he considered reporting the incident to their class teacher, Mr. Asuelime, he ultimately refrained. Yet the memory of that event lingered, a stain on the 1985/86 school year in his mind.

Jide wasn’t just morally upright; he was intellectually gifted, particularly in subjects that involved numbers. His academic prowess stood out, complemented by a voracious appetite for novels. Even as a young boy in Class 2, his keen analytical mind revealed itself. After reading a Pacesetter Series novel, he noticed a glaring inconsistency in the plot: a character who had torn a piece of paper inexplicably produced it later, seemingly intact. While others might have overlooked the detail, Jide’s sharp mind registered the anomaly, showcasing his remarkable ability to process and critique information.

Yet, the chronicles of Jide’s life go beyond his intellect. At his core, he carried a profound desire to walk with God. He understood that faith was not merely a personal endeavor but one initiated by divine grace. This yearning was apparent as early as Form 1, growing stronger and more evident during his time at Yaba. It was there that he encountered a group of Presbyterians who, by God’s mercy, led him to the cross. Jide was deeply moved, consuming Christian literature and drawing spiritual truths that shaped his outlook on life. His friendships with Oshodi and Sunday further nurtured his spiritual growth, fueling his enthusiasm for God.

But now, questions arise. Is Jide still burning with the same passion he had at Yaba? Have the burdens of family and responsibility dimmed the once-bright flame of his faith? How uplifting it would be to see him embrace the words of George Whitefield: “God forbid that I should travel with anybody a quarter of an hour without speaking of Christ to them.”

Can we have that Jide back—the one whose faith, intellect, and character inspired everyone around him?

Uwem Sampson