I have always dreaded what I call the next moment. One moment, life is on cruise control, everything is hunky dory, the next moment, a phone call, somebody barging in, breaking news on the TV . . . and then bad news that changes your life forever.
This afternoon, it was business as usual. One moment I was listening to the radio blissfully, the next, Richard Sky was announcing that our President had died in the course of his service to the nation. Ei!!!!
When I woke up this morning, Professor Mills was the President of the Republic of Ghana. And when somebody is the President, the tendency is to subconsciously elevate him to superhuman, almost immortal status. But as the news of his passing sank in and the numbness wore off, it dawned on me that an old and very sick man had just died. It hit me all of a sudden how alone he must have felt as President knowing that he was very ill and that it might be terminal.
Just a few weeks ago, I went down with a bad case of malaria. I was knocked out for a couple of days, shivering, weak and with a headache. I remember feeling so sorry for myself and almost snapping down the phone at customers who had called to find out why I wasn't showing up for meetings and installations. Couldn't they see that I was ill? Couldn't they tell from my voice that I was ill? I got off the phone as quickly as I could get and curled back in bed feeling sorry for myself.
Not President Mills. He was a fighter. Whatever afflicted him, was in retrospect, a lot more serious than my malaria. But unlike me, he didn't shy away from work and from doing his duty. He continued campaigning and won the election. He went about his Presidential duties, his ailment and critics notwithstanding, with a smile.
It really saddens me to think that this very accomplished, learned, dignified and humble Fulbright Scholar, throughout his tenure of office, was a very sick old man. He didn't only have to deal with his ailment, but he had to put up with all manner of invective flung at him daily. As if it wasn't enough to worry about his mortality, the subject had to be flung in his face incessantly. But he endured it gracefully and stoically. He kept on fulfilling his duties as President of the Country. Testament to his sense of duty and the fighter in him, right to the very end, he was positive about his prospects and contrary to his critics didn't abdicate his responsibility to go and nurse himself.
My thoughts and prayers go out to Aunty Naadu. They had no children and he must have been her all. His passing will create a big vacuum in her life. I can only hope and pray that God fills this vacuum and gives her the strength to cope through this difficult period in her life.
Death and grief , brings out the worst in human beings. I scroll down the Facebook news feed and read the hypocritical status updates and posts of those who previously pilloried Professor Mills. Because of them, now I know that at any funeral, amongst the supposedly mourning mourners, there are some who are mourning externally and celebrating internally. A dear friend, who happens to be on the opposing side, actually called me up and started celebrating the Professors death. Furious with disbelief, I cut the line and have steadily refused to take his calls.
But I remember the grace and dignity with which Professor Mills dealt with his critics and detractors. And out of respect to his memory, I will try and emulate him. Instead of the worst, I will try to let the Professors passing bring out the best in me. Just like it brought out the best in our democracy this evening at Parliament house with the seamless transition of power to President Mahama.
For the first time, the overused phrase, Rest in Peace, means something to me. Professor John Evans Atta-Mills is resting in perfect peace. He is at peace from the physical pain, he is at peace from the anguish of knowing that he might die, he is at peace from the immense responsibility of running this nation , he is at peace from the anguish of leaving Naadu and his son without him in this world. Most of all, he is at peace from the unfair insults and criticism heaped on him by friends and foe alike.
Professor Mills was at heart, a decent and pleasant man who wished no ill on anybody. Only God can judge him because only God knows his heart. President Mills is free from all the physical pain, stress, evil and nonsense that prevails here on earth. Tonight, his physical remains lie in the mortuary at 37 but his soul and spirit are up there in heaven and he must be smiling down at us and shaking his head at some of the hypocritical status updates here on Facebook.
Professor Mills as we found out in the end, you were only human. Literally translating from that Akan saying, "you didn't come to do it all. You came to do your bit"
Rest in Peace Sir!! We go carry on from here
No night in Zion, there is no night there
Allelujah there is no night there
Jah is our Light
And we need no candlelight
Allelujah there is no night there
Luciano
