In the third week in January in the mid 1990s, my youngest brother was born. As soon as he was born, he became the apple of our eyes, the center of our world and the focus of our attention. His birth had been difficult and we very nearly lost him and our mum but we didn’t know that at the time, we just knew we had the most beautiful baby in the world.
Yes! he was the most beautiful baby ever with a full head of hair, the blackest pupils and the face of an angel. Obinna and I would wake up and run to look at him as he slept, we’d supervise my grandmother’s bathing of our baby, try to touch his curls after he’d been bathed and oiled but mummy would chase us away. Before we’d go school, we’d probably sing a song or discuss with him about what we’d expect to do in school. On getting home after school we’d tell him how our day went and from when he was three months old he’d talk back to us and tell us all that happened when we went to school.
His first word was Adede, at the time I didn’t know it was Adaeze he was trying to pronounce, I would have been swollen headed. He started walking rather late, at fifteen months but he also started running immediately. He soon grew into a loving and gentle boy with a stubborn streak, he could make you cry from frustration when he made up his mind not to do what you want.
He started writing plays pretty early, when he was about eight or nine. He loved reading books and Manchester United, he was and still is passionate about football generally. My brother’s about the kindest person I know, he’s very intuitive and usually knows the best thing to say to say in most situations. He’s funny and smart but can be very shy.
Anyway today’s his birthday and I just realised that I can’t express in words who my brother is and what he means to me.
Happy birthday Ike-baby, selfie partner, my personal organizer, fashion critic and source of annoyance. My love for you is as wide as from east to west and brighter than the sun.