My world came crashing down and my heart almost shattered into irrecoverable pieces when I received news that my Dad, Fon Jotim Benjamin Garriba, had passed away on 29 May, 1990. It caused me an excruciating pain – the type which a normal man wouldn’t wish on his worst enemy. Since Daddy fell sick and was taken to hospital on two or so occasions, my biggest fear in the world was for this to happen, but it did at last and happened barely five years after the passing of my dear mum.

Most people knew my Dad simply as the Fon of Bom Village. Yet, there was much more to him than the signature long staff and whistling mood by which he came to be recognized whenever he left the village to go for court sessions in Nwa. He was a most remarkable husband to our mothers (Susan and Khirngwe), and father to me and my ten older siblings (Martha, Pauline, Magdaline, John, Zacharias, Christopher, James, Stanley, Godswill, and Christiancia). Dad’s passing was completely an irreparable loss!

Growing up, I found my Dad an extremely protective father, even as he and our mother raised us in a complimentary manner, though distinctly too. Dad’s foremost focus was our education, and our mother, Susan, cared so much about our behavior in society. Although Dad did not have the opportunity to go to school himself, he was strict and stern when it came to our education and discipline because he hated any form of disgrace to be brought upon his family. For her part, mum was playful but hated laziness. They both made a perfect blend.

My Dad was always working. He reminded us he worked hard so that he could give us all that we needed to excel at whatever we chose to do. And as far as I remember, my siblings and I lacked very little when it came to education; we had all we asked, and even more. That said, the asking part was hard! It often would come with a lecture and many questions as to why we would even ask for things. In the end, we would get what we wanted as long as a compelling case could be made for it.

Like the entire village, we knew Dad as a man with a heart of gold and an idiosyncratic sense of humor. He would crack jokes with his family, brothers, notables, and even guests while ensuring nobody carried a moody face in his presence. Yet, he had zero tolerance for mediocrity and was a no-nonsense man in every sense of the word when it came to facing any challenge frontally. He expected excellence at all times and when it came to time, my father was a Westerner in African skin. For him, arriving at any event “on time” was arriving late. He instilled in me the spirit today of getting to the airport hours before the take-off of a flight.

As I said before, our dad’s biggest obsession was the education of his children. With his meagre resources, he tried his best to invest in us education-wise. I recall when I was in Primary Three, Dad would bring the official letters sent to him from the administration in Nwa for me to read to him in English as they were. Those were letters that had been read already. All he wanted to know was whether I knew how to read. I read them perfectly to him and I could see him nodding and smiling, as if to say, Well done, my son! I know many so-called graduates today who can’t read fluently even the simplest language and I begin to ask myself if they are the problem or their teachers.

I always tried to be different – a true son of my Daddy. He had a way of encouraging me: “Well, I sent you to school to study and not to play. Remember that we have a lot of palm bushes and coffee farms; if you fail your school exam, you will have no alternative than to come back home and take care of them, because I don’t have any space for failures in my family. Get closer to your senior brothers and sisters and find out what their secret for success is.”

As a little boy in school, I didn’t panic but it gave me even more incentive to study harder and pass all my exams. When we were alone together, my mum also pulled my ears as if she and her husband had a meeting. “Your father has said it all. I’m even looking for who to help me on the farm. If they send you away from school, I will buy a hoe and a cutlass for you.” Thank God for mothers! My mum always made sure that I had enough food to take to school for my lunch and whenever I returned home, another basketful of pounded cocoyam was waiting for me. But I had to pay for all of that by going to fetch firewood, water, or follow mum and my older sisters to the farm.

Even when my dad had daunting schedules as Fon, he would make sure he found time to know how I was faring in school. Oftentimes, he would reach out to my teachers to know my performance in school. This was because from time to time, he wanted me to accompany him on their field trip as a team from the court where he was president and always led delegations to satellite court centers in Ntong to areas with land disputes. So, he wanted to know if my absences from school during those periods affected my studies adversely.

Each time my father spoke to me about my education, it gave me the courage to work harder and pay attention to those areas I needed to improve in. Even as he was very busy as Chief and President of the Court, his family was always his top priority, which is why he paid very close attention to my studies and to the welfare of every one of my siblings. That is the kind of man daddy was!

I noticed I was such a daddy’s boy because whenever I came home, there would be an unusual atmosphere of happiness on his face. He would invite me to dinner during which we would discuss lengthily. Sometimes he talked to me about their court sessions and striking cases. At other times, he recounted his life and experiences as headman in the CDC where he worked for long in the “Coast” before being arrested as Chief. That was actually where he learned some of the rubrics of leadership. He spoke to me about the life of a Prince of Bom. He said princes in other kingdoms were hostile, proud, and arrogant and it was tolerated because of the powers their dads wielded. But he warned that this was not going to be the case in his Fondom. He told me that he was a servant of the people and not a ruler. So, his children were expected to be humble, kind, serviceable, and loving. 

They say the true measure of a man, particularly in the eyes of God, is in his kindness, selflessness, loyalty, generosity, and humility. These were truly the immeasurable virtues which most people of Bom Village and other neighbors used as yardsticks to describe my Dad. Many were always in awe of his intellect, moral compass, sense of integrity, dedication to duty as a father, chief, and court member, as well as his honesty. With mere adult education, my Dad was virtually a walking encyclopedia and a thesaurus concerning the handling of delicate cases and disputes. Countless times, the judge would ask the court members in the middle of heated debates: “Hold on, let’s listen to Chief J. B. Garriba; he would have a way out.” The judge would confidently give the floor to my dad because they believed HE ALWAYS HAD AN ANSWER TO EVERY RIDDLE IN THE COURT.

My Dad had an amazingly retentive memory. He needed to see you only once and the second time, he would take you out without any difficulty. Most importantly, he would never hesitate to put you right if he found anything wrong in you. He did not care to know whose child you were because he considered every child his own. I always think I took so much after him, especially my keenness for orderliness and eagle eye for any editing work. In fact, I was more of his right-hand man because he always called me whenever he was angry at someone. I was more or less his PA and his friend, and he was my everything. Most of my life, just by how much I looked like him not physically but behavior-wise, people would see me in random places and ask if I was the son of the Fon of Bom. Having many of his excellent attributes, I could not be more gratified to identify with him.

My siblings and I often asked my Dad how he felt to be Chief of Bom, and without hesitation, he would say: “I’m very proud to serve the people of this great and courageous village. I’m lucky to be blessed with very intelligent people who throw their weight behind me each time I need their support. There are, however, some bad grains among the wonderful seeds who give me a headache every time. But my father taught me that the bad people in society are only there to spice life; without them, life would be boring and incomplete.”

My Daddy must now be in the most genuine of paradises! He never flaunted his position as many others in his shoes does. He was a thoroughbred leader and gave his best at whatever he engaged in. Not many people knew that he was president of the court in Nwa because he saw it as his patriotic duty which demanded a lot from him. Not many people knew that in his lifetime, my Daddy was highly principled. For instance, for several decades as Chief of Bom, he was first to arrive and last to leave a meeting, when people thought it was supposed to be the opposite. He did that to pass a message to his people and whoever cared to listen and believe him.

Most importantly, he had impeccable moral authority and the capacity to always focus on the greater public good over individual gain. He accommodated people of all shades of opinions, and if you came to him thinking you would curry favor from him, you would leave the Palace in shame or tears after having had your carrot refused. He was passionate about protecting the poor and the vast majority. Many loved him but others terribly misunderstood and arguably mischievously misrepresented him. This category of people deliberately or out of ignorance failed to see that as Chief, he was always ready “to catch the javelins that were intended for his subjects.” My Dad would catch the child from falling off his mother’s back if he could. But that did not stop many, who felt he stepped on their toes, from smearing his name. 

Yet, that never got in his way of pursuing what he considered to be the right path in leading his people. This is not to say my Dad was a coward. Far from that! He simply didn’t want to be distracted from his primary assignment of serving his people, and by extension, his country. He was keen on the unity, peace, and development of Bom Village.

When the sunset in Bom on 29 May, 1990, I knew that my Daddy was only gone to meet his Maker at the appointed time as we all shall. Two weeks after he got missing (in the language of the Palace and kingmakers), relatives, friends, and foes told me to be strong but it certainly felt like my source of strength was gone. Losing a father (in fact, a parent) is hard, but happening on the world stage with many people having a say and differing opinions made me believe that he didn’t just belong to his family but to the rest of humanity.

Now to my dearest Daddy, although you have gone the way of all mortals ahead of some of us, I assure you, those of us left here below: Zacharias, Godswill, James, Pauline, Magdaline, Christiancia and I will do everything in our power to live by your example and carry on your legacy for as long as we live. I love you and miss you with every iota of my person.

Adieu, Dad! Till we meet again in the bosom of the Lord.