Alas, my brother, Busola Holloway!

Indeed, death is one of the characteristics of living things, but there are some deaths that hit you so hard, you begin to question the very essence of life itself. Such was the death of my brother and friend, my Egbon and mentor, the Very Worshipful Brother Busola Holloway, who ended his labor on this sublunary abode and journeyed to the Grand Lodge above on Saturday, April 2, at 61.

In my sojourn in the University of Life, I have met several people who clicked with me like a magnet but never as quickly and steadfastly as Bro. Holloway. A well travelled, highly exposed, widely connected, greatly respected, yet highly restrained, soft spoken and very calm man, he said he saw a bit of me in him and some of him in me the first time our paths cross on the level, and the rest, as they say, is history. We began a relationship that swung from labor to refreshment, from work to play, from the serious to the unserious. Here was a man before whom many fidgeted and shook, especially when discharging their Masonic duties. Yet, he was very beloved. A strict and cautious man, he never mixed labor and refreshment, yet he was fun and playful. His home, like his heart, was always open to all.

We were so close, he was one of the first people I told I was relocating to the UAE. And so, he made it a duty to follow up with my progress. He teased me for expatriating at old age but encouraged me to do it for my young twins. By the way, he never fulfilled his promise to Tito and Muna to give them a spin in his boat! Anyway, when on Valentine’s Day, he chatted me “Hey young man! I’m with your friend O”, I had slept because it was past my bedtime in Dubai. The next day, as I was going through the messages in my Nigerian phone, I saw his message from the previous days and another showing his wristband from Evercare Hospital with my friend, Dr. Arinzechukwu Mosanya, a young and brilliant and, most importantly, loving and caring Surgeon, as his Doctor. I panicked. Very Worshipful has never been sick since we met, at least not to my knowledge. Sadly this one got him and took him.

He didn’t pick my calls, but he chatted me shortly after telling me how he felt. Dr. Arinze who later spoke to me couldn’t tell me much I guess because of confidentiality and all. I understood. The next day, Very Worshipful permitted Dr. Arinze to feel free to update me about his condition and diagnosis. Like he did with me, he had “fallen in love” with Dr. Arinze fast and easy. Such was his inescapable charm-he attracted good people to himself like honey did bees!

Nothing was clear to me until when I rushed back to Nigeria and visited him at the hospital. There I met his older brother and his nephew, both brothers. I didn’t like the way he was, but still he had the mind to instruct his nephew, Gbile, to ensure he taught my son horse-riding and eventually Polo. By then, apparently, he knew his chances were going slimmer and sunset was approaching. He talked about life. And death. He talked about his funeral-what he wanted, how he wanted it and so on and so forth. That was Busola Holloway-fearless, deliberate, intentional, stoic.

By the time I visited him again a week later after his surgery, just to inform him I was going back to base, he had gone down some more. He was in so much pain. But had typically come to terms with his reality. He told me he was going to fight Cancer. He showed me his notebook, where he’s making notes-notes we will use to tell his story. At the back of the book, however, were his wishes. Just in case.

It was, therefore, with extreme sadness that I received a message from Dr. Arinze, barely four weeks after I left, that my brother, my man, Very Worshipful, had passed on. As I wiped the tears from my eyes, I smiled bigly, because I made sure we hugged before I left on my last visit to him at Evercare. He didn’t want to leave my hand. So I came back and hugged him and dashed off lest he saw my misty eyes. Chai!

I can never forget my encounter with him the night after my return to Dubai. I never dream or rather hardly do and when I do, they are never serious. This time I felt the Very Worshipful holding me playfully from behind telling me to stop worrying about him. And I asked him if this was sunset, he said No, smiled and looked away. I woke up fearing the worst and the worst has happened!!!

Born on the 5th of August 1960, he attended St Gregory’s College Lagos from 1972 to 1980. After his A Levels, he proceeded to the United States of America where he attended Morehouse College, Atlanta, and Atlanta University, Georgia. He studied Mass Communications with specialization in Film and Television Production. He obtained a Bachelor of Science Degree at the University.

During his academic sojourn, he worked at several media institutions in the USA, including WCLK Radio as a Disk Jockey, WSB TV as Assignment Editor, WXIA TV as Floor Director, Columbia Pictures as Production Assistant and Cable Atlanta, (Now CNN) as an intern.

A Film Producer and Public Relations Consultant, he has produced various Television Commercials and Documentaries. He served as President of Independent Television Producers Association of Nigeria ITPAN for two terms, from 2008 to 2012. He is an Inventor, having been granted a Patent from the United Kingdom patent office in December 2000 for the invention of a Computer Transducer Cleaning device called the HQ Solvent Free Mouse Cleaner.

An active sportsman in his youth, Busola was a member of the St Gregory’s College Athletics team. He participated in the 100, 200, 400-meter races and was in the relay teams for the school being the second-fastest during the time.

He was Chairman and Managing Director of Happyfish Ltd, a Mechanised Fish farm with a capacity to produce 400 Tons of Live Catfish annually and pioneered the production of Catfish Fillets in Nigeria, rival to the imported Fish fillets from other countries. The Happyfish Catfish Fillet is now in wide distribution across Nigerian Supermarkets.

Being a Widow’s Son myself, I am acutely aware of the certainty and imminence of death having figuratively died and was raised from the dead. Yeah, Busola must have felt sad he was leaving his darling wife and lovely kids behind, but he also knew he needed to go so the pains could stop. His work here is well and truly done and he’s dropped his working tools. I pray he journeys well to the Grand Lodge, where his late father, the Right Worshipful Olu Holloway, will lead the departed brethren to welcome him home. And he, as the Presbyter sings, will “only be remembered by what he has done”.

His family and numerous friends will miss him. His wife, children and siblings particularly. The District Grand Lodge of Nigeria of which he was a leader and a pillar will definitely miss him. The Brethren across the English, Irish and Scottish Constitution spread across the four quarters of the globe will miss him. I will surely miss him. I’ll miss his peerless banters and jokes; deep and serious conversations; generosity (he gave my family his fish fillet without hindrance) and his experiences, which he shared freely and at length.

Requiescat en pace, my worthy brother!