“There is nothing more painful than the untimely death of someone young and dear to the heart. The harrowing grief surges from a bottomless well of sorrow, drowning the mourner in a torrent of agonising pain; an exquisite pain that continues to afflict the mourner with heartache and loneliness long after the deceased is buried and gone.”
These words of Jocelyn Murray in the book, Khu: A Tale of Ancient Egypt, aptly captures the feelings that accompanied the news of the demise of my dear friend and colleague, Danladi Ndayebo, D-Man, as I fondly called him, following yet another accident on the Minna Highway.
Danladi, alongside another colleague, was going to visit a bosom friend, Justice Aminu Garba, whose son was missing. However, he was never to complete the trip as he died following injuries sustained from the accident.
While acknowledging that death is the end of all men, it is disheartening; however, when death could have been avoided.
Account by the brother of the deceased indicated that he may have died from negligence on the part of health workers at the Ibrahim Badamasi Babangida Specialist Hospital in Minna where he was rushed to for medical attention.
Usman Ndayebo disclosed that his late brother was brought to the hospital at about 9:30pm and was talking normally though he complained about slight pain in his chest, however, no scan or x-ray was carried out to ascertain the reason for the chest pain all through the night till the following morning.
“From the time they were brought to the hospital, there was no staff to operate the scan machine or the x-ray machine to carry out tests on him.
“There is a scanner and an x-ray machine in the hospital but the staff were not on ground to operate the machines,” Usman stated.
Danladi was said to have died while arrangements were being made to move him to a different medical facility.
Was it destiny? Could his death like that of some others before him have been avoided? These questions to which I have no ready response makes his demise even more painful.
According to accounts in the social media, the Chief Medical Director (CMD) of the hospital, Isah Umar, when contacted claimed he was unaware of the cause of death.
This is as there is no indication that hospital is investigating the circumstances that led to the untimely death of a young vibrant Nigeria, full of promise.
Some may say it was destined to happen, may be, but I still wonder where to draw the line between human error and natural occurrence.
Agreed there is nothing that would be done that would bring back Danladi to life, however, there are steps that could be taken to ensure that no life that could be saved would be lost.
Expectation is that thorough investigation would be carried out by the appropriate authorities to ascertain what really transpired and anybody in the hospital who failed in their duty in any way should be held accountable and sanctioned.
Life is sacred and medical workers have very important role in upholding the sanctity of life, hence, should be held responsible when they fail, especially when it leads to the loss of life.
Danladi was Chief Press Secretary to Governor Babangida Aliyu and later Commissioner for Information and Strategy under the same administration. One can’t help but wonder that if he could suffer this fate in the hands of those who are supposed to be caregivers and have the mandate to save lives what fate awaits the common man on the street if he were to be in similar circumstances?
Yes, there is never a good time to die but death of a young, intelligent, resourceful, and one who big offices/positions were beckoning, as Danladi has been described, and under questionable circumstances certainly leaves much to be desired.
It’s already five days after but it still seems like a dream. Danladi was so full of life and milk of kindness, down to earth and unassuming. Many of those who associated with him have continued to testify to these.
He was one of the few who didn’t allow political appointments change their outlook towards life as he maintained cordial relationship with friends and colleagues.
Danladi was so trusting, a trait which almost got him into trouble while serving as commissioner. After having a conversation with colleagues during one of his visits to Abuja it was used against him. He weathered the storm and came out stronger and remarkably, he didn’t hold it against those involved.
In the Leadership Newspapers days he was known as the most accessible editor and would go to lengths to assist subordinates and senior colleagues in every situation.
You were a dependable ally any time, any day. You were not just a colleague and a friend, you were a brother.
Conversations with you were always easy and there was always something to learn. There was never a dull moment. You could recount incidents of over a decade and it would still be entertaining.
Not a few times, even until recently, did people ask how an Anambra woman and a Nupe man were able to get along so well.
Your death has made it even clearer that we will be remembered only by what we have done and that our time here could be up anytime, however, it doesn’t make the loss any less painful. I have lost quite a number of dear ones but each incident comes with its own kind of pain and sense of loss.
I couldn’t agree more with Lemony Snicket’s take on the death of a loved one in Horseradish: Bitter Truths You Can’t Avoid: “It is a curious thing, the death of a loved one. We all know that our time in this world is limited, and that eventually all of us will end up underneath some sheet, never to wake up. And yet it is always a surprise when it happens to someone we know. It is like walking up the stairs to your bedroom in the dark, and thinking there is one more stair than there is. Your foot falls down, through the air, and there is a sickly moment of dark surprise as you try and readjust the way you thought of things.”
I had said your death ended almost two decades of friendship but Mitch Albom disagrees saying; “Death ends a life, not a relationship.” Yes, though we lost you we will cherish the friendship we shared. Fare well, dear friend.