Doing the things like Peter Bello
Life lessons from the life and death of a great young man
It was my sisters birthday this past week and we met up for a fabulous impromptu dinner. While we were at dinner, my sister asked me a question she had come across on twitter.
What is a pivotal event X that has divided your life into two halves “Before X” and “After X” such that the after X you is radically different from the before X you?
Questions like this sometimes require a lot of consideration before the real answer emerges. I’d never thought about this before, so my initial answer was incorrect. A few days later, on the 12th of August, I was reminded of my real answer.
Seven years ago, on the 12th of August 2015, my friend Peter Bello died in an air crash and this singular event caused a very fundamental shift in my life/mindset.
I can remember the first day I met Peter. He was a friend of a friend and he was staying with said friend. My first memory of him is one of him hauling his photography equipment into the house. I learnt that he was a photographer, but also in training to become a pilot, he had also done some modelling at some point.
We were not super close, but we had the same social circle and so we had cause to see quite a bit of each other. I remember he would always greet me by saying “What’s up Doc” ala bugs bunny, followed by his huge grin and we’d hug or laugh and catch up. If I didn’t show up at an event he expected to see me at, he’d send a message to check in. We both loved to travel and so we would swap stories about our trips. He also happened to be the youngest in our friend circle and we were somewhat protective of him.
Peter’s death rocked our collective worlds, my friends and I, but it also changed many things about how I chose to do life going forward. In honor of my friend, I thought I would share some of those lessons today.
Tomorrow is truly not promised - When I received news of his death, I remember thinking, “It’s not possible because he liked my picture on Instagram a few hours ago, so he can not be gone.” It just didn’t make sense. I prayed. I cried. I hoped. But it was true. My friend who had liked a photo I’d posted that morning was no longer alive as I was making my way home from work the same day.
This really drove home the fact that all we have is right now and so these days, when I have an argument/disagreement with anyone who is important to me, and my not-so- inner petty spirit tries to take over, I ask myself how I would feel if this is my last ever interaction with that person. This doesn’t always override my petty instinct but it at least prompts further consideration.
Making effort for the people you love - The last time I saw Peter was on his last birthday. 4th of July 2015. It was a Saturday and I was at my parents house which was some distance from the venue of his celebration. I anticipated that there would be traffic on the way there and so I wasn’t too keen but another friend of ours sent me a message reminding me that “It’s Peter”. So I got dressed and made the trip and even though I couldn’t stay till the end, I’m glad I was there. None of us had any way of knowing that would be his last birthday with us.
Sometimes I imagine how I would have felt, if I had somehow not made it that day, despite having the capacity to. This is why I now do “crazy” things like head straight from work to have dinner with my sister on her birthday, or book a lavish lunch date between two night shifts because my best friend is in town for a few days.
It’s not about how long but about how well - In the aftermath of Peter’s death, I started reading the various tributes people wrote for him online. I read things about him from people I had never met or knew he was friends with. I genuinely couldn’t fathom how one person had made such an impact on so many people’s lives in such a short time. He was only 26 years old when he died.
I was also fortunate enough to attend the memorial service that was held for him in Lagos. It was held on a Monday night, but the church was packed, standing room packed. That night people came forward to tell stories about Peter. At the end of the night, we had a lantern releasing ceremony and as I stood outside the church watching those lanterns go up, it hit me that in the short time he had been here, Peter had more than accomplished. I’d been to similar events held for people who had lived much longer and not heard the glorious testimonies I’d heard about Peter that night. His life, albeit short, had been super impactful and I couldn’t think of anything that mattered more.
This is why one of the biggest drivers of my decisions/choices/actions these days is how I want to be remembered, because we are truly only remembered by what we have done. So while I have little to no control over when I’ll be exiting this stage called life, I at least have control over my deeds while I’m here.
Give people their flowers while they can smell them - As I read the tributes and listened to the testimonies, I hoped that he could hear them too, but I also wondered if he knew, even just a little bit, how much he was loved, how impactul his life had been, what magic he had created.
This thought has led to me becoming super effusive with my affection and praise and encouragement. From writing lengthy emails to my loved ones thanking them for being in my life to leaving encouraging comments on random strangers posts on social media. I think it is really important to let people know when they are doing well. Life can be really tough for many of us at different points, and sometimes the reassurance of hearing that you’re loved or that you’re doing something right might just be the thing that we need.
There are many more lessons that I learned from Peter, but I think you get the idea. I still miss him, but I’m also comforted by the fact that he truly does live on through the lives he has impacted.
This week I read
The Sex Lives of African Women by Nana Darkoa Sekyiamah - I was excited when I found a copy at a bookstore last week. This book has been on my list since I first heard about it so I started reading it immediately and few chapters in, I was ready to fight everybody from the writer to the publishing house, to the people who did blurbs for the book. The book is a collection of stories of sex lives of black women, both in Africa and the diaspora. I observed that many of the women interviewed lived in the diaspora and so it may have not been the most representative sample size, however that wasn’t my biggest issue with the book.
My issue was the lack of storytelling. I’m a lover of words and how they can be used. So to see such powerful stories not done justice was painful for me. I spoke to a few people about this and one point raised was that maybe she really wanted the women’s voices to come through, however I know that this is possible while still doing the necessary work to make the stories more readable and enjoyable.
I am yet to come across any other collection that focuses on African women as sexual beings like this book did, with such powerful stories and level of representation, and so for that reason I will still recommend this highly. Otherwise this was hard to get through.
This week I listened to
Yet another episode of the Dare to lead podcast. This time Brene had Jim Collins as a guest. When I like somebody, I like to listen to them as many times as possible because I gain something new every time. That’s what this conversation between Brene and Jim was for me. He spoke in more detail about his mentor Bill Lazier and his wife Joanne and it was a very wholesome conversation with both of them excited about each other’s work. Loved it.
It’s my birthday in a few weeks and as the kind and thoughtful person that I am, I’m putting together a wishlist to aid my friends and well wishers in their gift giving. I do expect gifts. T for thanks.
Chioma.