Most people do not know that I had a small affair with this icon. At the peak of his career, he had come to the University of Ibadan to perform.
As he strutted up and down the stage looking like a god with his milky white skin and dreamy eyes and dangling dreads, his eyes caught mine. We looked deeply into each others soul and felt a connection. This look lasted seconds, but the bond of devilish brotherhood was sealed that night.
Everytime, I watched him from Ibadan, to Lagos and everywhere, once I walked in, we would stare at each other. He would recognise me, and he would stop whatever he was doing and will stare at me.
As time went on, I started seeing things in those beautiful eyes. He would beg me to free him, but I didn’t understand what he wanted to be free from. We would just keep giving ourselves the stare and then I would break it and walk away.
Then it happened. 4 years ago, I had a strange dream. I saw Majek come meet me in d dream and give me something to drink. I refused and he tried to force me to drink it. A tall priest in red cassock encouraged me to drink but I refused and jumped out of bed.
I didn’t tell a soul. Got dressed and entered my car to work. At the Jibowu bus stop, a dishevelled, frail, dirty man jumped on my bonnet and I quickly asked my driver to stop.
He looked up and our gaze met. It was Majek Fashek. Those eyes, the look and we locked. I just saw him in my dream offering me a drink.
I came out of the car, held him tight and cried. He was finished, almost unrecognizable, smelling from years of not having a bath with no teeth.
I could not believe that this was the rainmaker. The iconic beat maker who had redone the Bob Marley Classic and delivered a much more potent rendition than the late great prophet himself.
He recognised me and held me tight. Kept saying ‘brother, free me’ he had been telling me this for years. Free me, he begged and I held on to him wishing I could really free him to set him free from all the demons dt beset his body.
As I made to leave him, he begged for a drink. I paid for the hot ogogoro he so badly needed and then it happened. Just like the dream, he offered me the drink. I said No and he said, you have to take. Its in your destiny that you be with us.
I started shaking. This was the stare we had shared all these years. This was the dream I just had the previous night. They had come to take me. I was scared.
He tried to force it down my throat and we struggled. The crowd laughed and jeered.
To my surprise he had the energy of a thousand mules. The spirits had entered his body giving him the strength he could never have mustered from that frail body.
I pushed him off and ran into my Car and locked the door crying. He came to my window, crying too and saying ‘brother please, you have to take the drink’
I asked my driver to speed off. Badly shaken and crying, I wrote on my Ipad what had just transpired.
Linda Ikeji then at the peak of her powers, took the article and it went viral going around the world making my story assume a life of its own.
His son called me and asked me specifically where this happened that they were looking for him.
His estranged wife called and thanked me that they were taking him for rehabilitation.
When he came out, he granted an interview, that the CIA had sent me to kill him at Jibowu bus stop. He talked glowingly about the dream. Our dream. The same dream I had had the previous night. Apparently, he too had the same dream. So, he was expecting me and was ready for me.
Fear rose in my bowels as I read his narration of the dream in my exact words. It was surreal.
So, as I wake up this morning, on my way to take a pee, the alert came. He was dead. I was happy, he was finally free.
His kind of talent was not ordinary, and he needed to be free. Only death could give him that release and now he is finally free, rested and calm beside the Lord.
Best news today, my brother.
God bless you.