Saheed Aremu

In a recent conversation with T.K. Akintajuwa, a friend I’ve known since Form 1, I was reminded of the bond we’ve shared over the years. Our friendship dates back to when he outwitted me in the competition for the literature prize. I had been coasting confidently toward victory until “Shee” was replaced by a male teacher, which derailed my chances. Despite this, we developed a connection that has transcended our secondary school days and remains strong.

During our call, I playfully berated him for not returning my previous calls. He responded, “Baba, if I see your call, I’ll pick it.” I held my tongue and didn’t push further. Our conversation meandered to familiar topics—Patience, the heated exchanges on the platform, and Jummy Shine’s relentless jibes. He also asked about Ireti, and I had to break the sad news of her passing. “Oh, Ireti,” he sighed. “That gentle, easygoing, and amiable woman.”

I then mentioned someone whose death many might not be aware of—Ekanem UdoNoah. It took him a moment to recall her, but I reminded him she might have had a crush on him back in the day. Our conversation then shifted to Aremu Saheed. While the name struck a chord of familiarity, T.K. couldn’t quite place it. I reminded him of Aremu’s exceptional mathematical abilities, which surely set him apart during our school years.

I first learned about Aremu’s passing from “the Unknown Professor,” Obafemi Solesi, whom I reconnected with at the 2023 reunion of the OSSO Magical ’88 set. During our chat, I asked about his brother, Tunde, who had studied Pharmacy at Ife. Sadly, Obafemi revealed that Tunde had also passed. Grief is a heavy burden, and one wonders—how are broken hearts ever truly mended?

My initial memory of Aremu was from his transfer to our school in Form 4. I recall seeing his report card from his previous school and being skeptical of his perfect Math score—100%. I questioned whether his previous school awarded grades too generously or if the Math questions were simply too easy. Over time, however, my doubts faded as Aremu’s performance at OSSO proved his brilliance. It was no surprise when he scored an A1 in Mathematics in the 1988 WASC exams, alongside Jide and his close friend, Eyitayo Balogun.

Aremu went on to study Electrical/Electronic Engineering at Ife. I remember visiting him there during one of my trips to Akure. On that particular day, he might have been boiling beans in his crowded residence—packed with squatters and landlords alike. By 2008, when he attended a meeting of the ’88 set alumni, he was working as a banker. We stayed in touch briefly before losing contact. In more recent years, I tried to locate him online, unaware that he had already embarked on a journey from which there is no return.

It was only a few weeks ago that I confirmed Aremu’s passing. Eyitayo, who knew him best, provided the heartbreaking details. He shared that Aremu’s wife had passed away first, leaving him to care for their children. Tragically, not long after, Aremu also took his bow, leaving their children orphaned in a world that often seems indifferent and harsh.

Yet, we take solace in the enduring truth that God, who watches over widows and orphans, will care for them. He will stir compassion in the hearts of men to extend love and support to those left behind.

Adieu, Aremu. How I wish you were still with us on this side of eternity. Death underscores the fragility and fleeting nature of human life. Indeed, all is vanity.

Uwem Sampson