When on Monday January 2, 2012, I tried to catch a plane from Enugu to Abuja, I did not realize that the cancellation of all flights to and from the Coal City due to bad weather was an indirect way of providence prevailing on me to cast one last look on a bosom friend. Because I had no option but to use that night in Enugu, I decided to spend the early evening with the Bosahs at their Trans-Ekulu, Enugu, home. The first thing that struck me was the passage of time and the inevitable change that it brings. Apart from the night watchman who opened the gates for us to drive in, there was no other souls in the storey building but Conrad and his wife. Their first two daughters, having left home; the third daughter, having also graduated from university, was making a living holding down a job outside of Enugu. The last two children of the home were, I presumed, busy at school, working diligently, to obtain their own diplomas. It was reassuring to hear from the Bosahs that all their children were well. We talked into the night, reminiscing about times long past but hardly forgotten. When we rose to leave, myself and my daughter, Conrad and the wife saw us to the car. While the wife bade us good night and withdrew, Conrad and I engaged in one last exchange of banterbefore he waved us on our way, with me having no inkling whatsoever on the contingency of that being our final earthly conversation. “Life has its peculiarities”, observed my daughter.” A couple begins their marital journey together, raising children along the way who grow up and go their different ways, leaving the parents as they found them – a couple alone. So it’s just Uncle Conrad and the wife in this storey building?” We dare not allow our minds to wander into wondering if it will now be just Conrad’s wife alone in “this storey building” because the owner of life, the great God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, will give the grieving lady and her children and their relations and well-wishers every fortitude and every solace. And our prayer is in the name of Jesus, the King of kings and the Lord of lords! We cannot grudge our merciful creator for taking back the one he had given to us in the first place. We can only humbly ask Him to grant the soul of His faithful departed a place in his kingdom of many mansions. I do not quite know the point at which to commence this story because Conrad and I come a long way. But I do know that meeting him opened my eyes on a great many truths of living. He was the amiable and perceptive Chief Press Secretary to Colonel Robert Akonobi, a Military Governor of the old Anambra State. He went on to serve four or five other Governors in that capacity and ion both Enugu and Awka. From his long stretch in government he garnered a treasure trove of experiences which I occasionally prodded him to unleash in book form. He didn’t get to write his memoirs, as now seems obvious. But his contributions to the successful launch of Ironside, my biography of General Aguiyi-Ironsi, is a testimony to his affinity with the written word. He was a hardheaded and incisive reporter who later in his career veered from journalism into the related arm of advertising. His Enugu office where he was the Deputy General Manager (Advertising) for the Vanguard newspapers was a veritable sanctuary during my constant visits to the Coal City. I treasure the fact that, in every difficulty that reared its head in the course of our friendship, he had ready suggestions and brilliant ideas on how to master them. He was a dear friend. Although I saw Conrad last on the second day of the new year, we were in constant telephone conversation. Our last chat was early in May. A problem had arisen which he believed I was in a position to mediate. A land allocated to him in Enugu had been reallocated to someone else and officials of the Enugu State Land Ministry had pointed out to him that their decision was “final”. We were trying to find a way around this gross injustice when Conrad changed mortality. I had flown from Lagos to Abuja abroad a Dana aircraft on May 16, 2012. It was such a fitful flight, especially as we made for landing, with the plane making so much creaking sounds I worried about a successful touchdown. I was still thanking God that we made it when the dreadful call came through from Awka. I felt like someone poleaxed. The anticipated long journey of bliss in retirement between Conrad and his wife, predicated on reaping the rewards of their lifelong efforts together, had rudely been truncated by the inscrutable arm of fate. It is a warning to everyone, including those sounding notes of “finality” on acts of injustice. It is a reminder on the vulnerability of humankind. It elicits a rereading of Psalm 90: 1 Lord, you have been our dwelling place throughout all generations. 2 Before the mountains were born or you brought forth the whole world, from everlasting to everlasting you are God. 3 You turn people back to dust, saying, “Return to dust, you mortals.” 4 A thousand years in your sight are like a day that has just gone by, or like a watch in the night. 5 Yet you sweep people away in the sleep of death— they are like the new grass of the morning: 6 In the morning it springs up new, but by evening it is dry and withered. 7 We are consumed by your anger and terrified by your indignation. 8 You have set our iniquities before you, our secret sins in the light of your presence. 9 All our days pass away under your wrath; we finish our years with a moan. 10 Our days may come to seventy years, or eighty, if our strength endures; yet the best of them are but trouble and sorrow, for they quickly pass, and we fly away. 11 If only we knew the power of your anger! Your wrath is as great as the fear that is your due. 12 Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom. 13 Relent, Lord! How long will it be? Have compassion on your servants. 14 Satisfy us in the morning with your unfailing love, that we may sing for joy and be glad all our days. 15 Make us glad for as many days as you have afflicted us, for as many years as we have seen trouble. 16 May your deeds be shown to your servants, your splendor to their children. 17 May the favor[a] of the Lord our God rest on us; establish the work of our hands for us— yes, establish the work of our hands. May Conrad Ikemefuna Bosah rest in the bosom of the Lord.