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Wigwe: The man with the Midas touch

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By Valentine Emeka Utulu

We were just kids, running around, having fun, in September 1979, when I met Herbert Wigwe for the first time.

Upon stepping foot in Federal Government College Warri, in the first term of my Form three, I found myself in School House, upstairs in room 8. In that room was Mba Nwagbara, Christopher Sagay, Omayone Edodo, and Herbert Wigwe. And then when I got to class the next day, I discovered that Herbert was also in Form 3E with me and that is how he became ubiquitous in my life.

Our room in the dormitory was a theater of the absurd, renowned for epic pillow fights and many from far and near came to participate in those bouts. Many also went away nursing concussions that were never treated.

Then one day, Christopher Sagay got us two pairs of boxing gloves from the sports equipment room, recited and taught us an abridged and jumbled version of the Queensbury Rules, showed us the boxing stances, the defence and the offence, the jab, the hook and the uppercut and our boxing bouts commenced in earnest each day after school.

But after some time, I noticed that Herbert’s heart was not in the pillow fights and boxing contests the way mine was. I was in it for the thrill, the adrenaline rush, the irresistible urge to defeat my opponent, while Herbert on the other hand was more interested in promoting the fights, egging us on while he stood aside and with his acerbic wit, took count of who suffered the most punches and whose dentition was to be found on the dormitory floor. He was the Don King of our boxing arena, and had it been that he was allowed by the school rules to make money by promoting those fights, Herbert would have made a fortune.

We had a lot of foolishness in our heads in those days, always thinking of the next prank and on whom to play it on, how to make the dining hall early and “massacre” all unoccupied rations, and how to illegally cook our crazy meals with ring boilers in the hostel. In the midst of all this mayhem, Herbert would suddenly and solemnly make some crazy statements. I remember the day he said, “I want to get married when I am 20 years old, or at the most 25, so that by the time I am 50, I would have finished paying school fees”.

We were 12 years old at the time, wondering where to scrounge the next illegal meal, and here was Herbert, talking about marriage and school fees and where he wanted to be in 38 years’ time. We just looked at him, hissed and pushed him aside. It never occurred to us then that what he was doing was visualizing his future, making predictions based on calculated probabilities and the normal outcome of human affairs: he was preparing himself to maximize his moments and times here on earth.

That was Herbert, the visionary, the man who lived today to the maximum while planning and preparing for tomorrow. And although he also ran around in the grass like the rest of us, he did not have all the foolishness and carelessness associated with boys of our age. There was a certain maturity and wisdom about him even then that was far beyond his years, because he did everything in moderation so that nothing could master him, yet he mastered everything.

He hated history and literature but excelled in mathematics and economics to simply focus on what he felt he needed to succeed in life.

Growing up then, we loved many songs and every Saturday, during school entertainment, we danced to our favorite songs. Many went for love songs, those slow ballads that tugged at the strings of the heart. Others liked the fast-paced rock songs with the electric guitars and loud drums. But Herbert loved one song in particular above them all and he knew every word of its lyrics by heart.

Herbert’s favourite song was by Kool &The Gang, and it was entitled “Take It to the Top” and the lyrics went like this:

“Climbing

Climbing

Climbing

Keep movin’ up

Don’t you ever stop

Whatever it is

Take it to the top

Keep movin’ up

Don’t you ever stop

What ever it is

Take it to the top

The world’s out there waiting, and it’s yours for the taking

So come on, get up, it’s time to go

Stop hesitating and anticipating to the top

That’s your mark, get ready

Set, go!

So let’s go take it to the top; don’t stop

Cause we’ll be movin’

You can make it to the top; don’t stop

We’ll be groovin’

We’re gonna reach that higher ground

Take it on up

Take it on up, a little higher

Take it on up

Take it on up. We will climb together

Take it on up

Take it on up to your highest dreams…”

That the song was his favourite said a lot about who he was and whom he would become. Therefore, many years later when I began to hear of and to see his meteoric rise in the banking sector, I said to myself; “Why am I not surprised? That Ikwere man always had his head screwed on tight”.

And I saw you from my vantage point of knowing your little beginnings as you began to conquer and to bestride the world like a colossus. I saw your passion to simplify and demystify the process of the creation and multiplication of legitimate wealth and to empower everyone around you. I saw you walk with kings and yet you did not lose your common touch neither did your humility ever depart from you. Your smile was ever present and your deep chuckling laugh always tickled.

I saw also, as in the later years, as your intense ambition became tempered and more purpose driven by love, human compassion, empathy and the fear of God (in which is the wisdom of the ancients). And then it became obvious to me and to many that your own version of corporate and venture capitalism was different because it had a rare human touch and a passion for alleviating the sufferings of many.

Then, my friend, did your light break forth as the morning, and you and they that came of you began to build the old waste places of the nation and to raise up the foundations of many generations; therefore, you Herbert, my friend, shall be called, The repairer of the breach, The restorer of paths to dwell in, for, indeed, you have dealt very faithfully.

And each time you called me on the phone, as soon as I said, “Hello?”, you would call my name and begin to chuckle and laugh, and your laughter would infect me, and I too will begin to laugh. I know why you were laughing. In your mind’s eye, you could still see all the foolish things I used to do when we were kids.

The last time we met was three weeks ago at an event, and you turned to my wife and asked her “Madam, how do you cope with this man?” and we all hugged and laughed and I walked you to your car. I did not know then that was the last time I would see you on this side of Heaven.

My dear Herbert, I forgot to tell you something on that day, but I know you hear me from Heaven since you have joined the great cloud of witnesses over there. I should have told you on that day, that I remember all these little things about you because I love you. I should have also told you that I had always known that you would be a great man. What I did not know was just how great you would turn out to be.

I don’t know how you did it, Herbert, but everything you touched turned to gold. Good bye my friend, my friend with the Midas touch.

Valentine Emeka Utulu.
Federal Government College Warri, Class of 1982

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