By Kunle Awosiyan

Death, did you ever cross our minds?

Perhaps some years ago, when Taiwo Hassan was so sick that we thought death had come calling. Yet Ogogo refused to die.

He came back to life, though emaciated, and once again danced to his Bàtá drums and sang his Ìjálá songs.

When he regained his strength and vigour, Ogogo warned us not to buy a guinea fowl unless we could carry it.

He chanted: “Ẹ má má rà àwò, nítorí pé àwò wúwo.”

Hmmmm.

But today, Ogogo has chosen to dance barefoot.

He is dancing towards a destination where there is only one road. Beyond the grave, there is no other road. There is no turning back, whether the sun rises or sets. Only the angels will play the songs you have listened to all your life.

Ogogo, every mile you travel will bring back memories of your creativity, your powerful Ìjálá chants, your Bàtá dancing and the unique artistry that made you who you were.

Death, did you ever cross our minds?

Perhaps only a few days ago, when Ogogo’s daughter cried out for help over the deteriorating health condition of her father. It was another call from death.

And this time, it took you away.

Tonight will become colder and quieter. You are alone now with your Maker.
We will remember your younger days. We will remember your laughter, your songs, your dance and the unforgettable character you brought to the screen.

Those memories cannot be washed away. Perhaps you have now found a better life, a life of eternity.
No one will hold your hands anymore, except the angels. But will the angels dance Bàtá? I may not know.
Will they sing Ìjálá? Teach them; Will the angels watch movie, please produce one for them as we bid you goodbye.

Goodnight, Ogogo. Dance on.

-Kunle Awosiyan, a veteran journalist, writes from Lagos