Tribute: Junaid Mohammed…My Eternal Regrets
I still find it difficult referring to him in past tense, but that is the sad reality.
I never got to meet him in person and I will never meet him again on this side of the divide, as he shedded mortality for immortality, on Thursday evening.
He was one of the rare few…a constant Northern Star from the northern hemisphere of the geographical contraption called Nigeria.
Junaid Mohammed was a man of strong political convictions who would say the truth without minding whose ox is gored.
Aman of radical disposition, we were told that he was one of the strongest forces in the defunct Second Republic as a member of the then House of Representatives.
A Soviet Union-trained medical doctor, Mohammed would take the bull by the horn and speak the truth to those occupying the highest political positions in the land.
Our paths crossed in the course of performing my duties, as a journalist. I took him on any national issues, without any notice. Never bereft of ideas and convinced of his strong convictions, the old political warhorse would always put himself at my disposal, giving vent to his repressed angers and fury about his unrealised dreams for a potentially great country.
My oga and friend, Dr Lasisi Olagunju, would always be on my neck to get something out of the political colossus, even some 24 hours to our production time in Saturday Tribune.
Junaid Mohammed would always tell me: “Dapo Falade, what exactly do you want me to say? What is it that you don’t know about the pervading rots in Nigeria?” Yet, the man would not hesitate to open the tap for me to drink from his fountain of knowledge.
Going beyond the issue and subject of interview, Junaid Mohammed, a medical scientist, would take me down the memory lane…the course of history to tell me about his beloved country, Nigeria. He was, indeed, a repertoire of our national history and stunted political growth and development.
I was greatly shocked, and felt a deep sense of loss when Saturday Tribune Editor, at about 11pm yesterday night, broke the news of the passage of the great man to me. In a very short and terse WhatsApp message, he wrote: “Your friend is gone o????”
Indeed, my friend is gone. Here was a man I never met in flesh and blood; he was a man I never had the opportunity to meet. Rather, the truth is that he threw the opportunity on my lap. He told me several times that I should find time to visit him in Kano; he told me to come over and spend some days with him before the last Christmas.
But I flunked such rare opportunities: I procrastinated, believing that I would find time to catch up with the old man. In my follies, I forgot that we are all humans that can and will surely give up the ghost, bowing to the antics of Mr Death, unannounced.
Alas, the man, after a protracted illness, which he hinted me about, early 2020, went the way of the mortal, last night. He went back to his creator with his deep tucked somewhere in his pouch and heart.
You were indeed a great lover of Nigeria. Your love and passion for the country transcends personal comfort and affinity to friends. You spoke the truth to both your perceived friends and enemies. The present occupants of the political offices across the land were not spared of his horsewhip and biting stings.
My eternal regret is that I never utilised the opportunity he offered me to tap directly and physically from his fountain of knowledge. But I am consoled by the fact that his interviews and discourses with me will forever remain part of my career as a journalist.
Adieu, the great Dr Junaid Mohammed. May your soul find a peaceful and well-deserved rest in the bosom of your creator.
