By Fr Pat. Amobi Chukwuma
I witnessed the first sudden death, many years ago, when I was doing my intermediate class at Aguata High School Aguata, in Anambra State. We had Students Union in my town. It was compulsory that all secondary school students must belong to the Union. Failure to enlist, carried a huge penalty. It happened that our Students’ Union was having sports week. We were divided into two teams.
I was not a good footballer. It happened that one team was not complete. Thus I was conscripted into the football team, which was against my will. The game started. I was in the middle of the field. The first half was goalless. The referee blew his whistle and we went into a short rest. By this time I was already panting like a lizard that fell from a tall tree. I wished that the game was ended.
We paused for ten minutes. The referee signalled the onset of second half, by whistling. We changed sides and started playing. The ball was passed to me. Unfortunately, I forgot that we had changed sides. I nearly scored against my own team. The side referee raised his flag and I was changed without consultation. I shamefully went out of the football field.
When it was 25 minutes into the second half, one of the players while running for the ball, suddenly slumped. The referee blew his whistle and called for the First Aid Team. They rushed to the slumped footballer. All efforts to resuscitate him proved abortive. A young medical doctor was among the spectators. He checked his heart and pause. He was confirmed clinically dead.
The local match ended abruptly. Tears started flowing from the footballers and spectators. The demised player was carried from the football pitch to the mortuary. God saved me through our team manager who changed me with a reserve player; otherwise I could have slumped and possibly died because there was little energy in me during the second half.
Everybody was asking the cause of the sudden death of the young student player. Probably it could be heart failure.
Four years ago, when I was shepherding the flock of God at Neni in Anaocha Local Government of Anambra State, I witnessed another sudden death. On that fateful Saturday, we had morning Eucharistic Adoration at 5.00am followed by Holy Mass at 6.00am. Afterwards I retreated into my room to rest awhile. I checked my mobile phone and saw fifteen missed calls from the same unfamiliar phone number. I guessed that something was amiss.
Hence I returned the call. The receiver alerted me of a fatal incident that occurred among some students of Claretian Institute of Philosophy Nekede, near Owerri, on that fateful Saturday morning. He told me that one of their colleagues slumped and died during their routine morning jogging. He mentioned Chigozie Ejiofor as his name. It was no other person than my senior houseboy.
The phone unconsciously fell out of my hand. My whole body was shaking like an earthquake. Tears ran down my oval face. I gazed beyond the roof of my house and asked, “O God, why?” God did not reply. I called the student again and he directed me to the Medical Centre in Owerri, Imo State. As a man, I picked up courage. I contacted the ambulance service nearby. In the company of a reverend sister working in my parish and the senior brother of the departed houseboy, I drove to Owerri.
On my way I saw visions. I saw the spirit of my departed houseboy standing before the judgment seat of God. I stopped and observed a minute’s silence and prayed, “O merciful God, temper justice with mercy to my demised boy standing before you. Eternal rest grant unto him. Amen!” Tears flowed down my chest. I wiped them away and continued my journey.
At the Medical Centre in Owerri, I saw death face to face. My senior houseboy was lying stone dead in his sports attire. I cried again and prayed over his remains. His lifeless body was then inserted into a body bag and carried into the ambulance. Off we went to Nekede and collected his belongings.
Our journey home began. We kept the corpse in the nearest mortuary and plans for the burial began. Unfortunately, it was during the Covid-19 pandemic. Burials were temporarily suspended by then. When the ban was lifted, we sorrowfully buried the remains of my lovely and promising senior houseboy.
At Bigard Memorial Seminary Enugu in 1991, a jovial deacon had supper with us. He exchanged pleasantries with his table members without any premonition that it would be his last supper on earth. He was physically bubbling with vitality as he enjoyed a short recreation with his friends that night.
After night prayer, he retired to his room and prepared for his final examination paper coming up the following day. It was in the month of June and he would be ordained a priest in early July in the Diocese of Owerri. After his studies late in the night, he asked his neighbour deacon to wake him up early in the morning to study before going to morning prayers and Mass.
On that fateful morning, the priest celebrant at Mass, Reverend Father Lazarus Esomonu, after making the introductory rite, said, “Rev. Celestine Ofurum is dead. He died in his sleep.” There were cries and commotion in the seminary chapel. Hopelessness filled the air. It took time to continue the Mass. How are the mighty suddenly fallen! Rest in peace Reverend Deacon Celestine Ofurum!
Two years ago, an ardent priest, as well as a psychotherapist, Reverend Father Adolphus Ezeakor, after Saturday routine spiritual and humanitarian exercise, retired for the day after preparing for the Sunday Masses. The First Mass was scheduled at 5.30am. The faithful gathered and waited for him to come into the church promptly as usual.
The choir was already singing and the Angels of God were descending and ascending. When it was almost 6.00am, the Parish Priest was not out. The catechist of the church went into the rectory to make enquiry about the unusual delay. The cook accompanied him to the Parish Priest’s room. All knocks at the door received no answer. Consequently the door was forcefully broken into. Lo and behold, the awaited Parish Priest was lying motionless.
A medical personal was called and he was confirmed stone dead. When the sad news was broken among the gathered faithful, the singing turned into mourning. Tears flowed like flood. It seemed like the world was ended. Father Adolphus Ezeakor, rest in peace. We miss you but God needs your services more.
The last is not yet heard. The Parish Priest of Immaculate Heart Parish Uga, in Ekwulobia Diocese, tapped my shoulders as we concluded a priests’ seminar in the last week of March, 2025. He told me that the Holy Spirit said that I should preach Easter Retreat to the adults in the parish.
I turned the request down due to the short notice. But after a second thought, I rushed to the priest as he was exiting the conference hall. I asked him to give me a chance to think over the retreat request after which I would call him on phone for a reply. I convinced myself that I could not disobey the Holy Spirit.
Thus, I assented to do the parish adult retreat at Immaculate Heart Parish, Uga. I called the Parish Priest, Reverend Father and Psychotherapist, Philip Chukwuma Ofojebe, and told him of my positive reply. He was filled with joy. I went for the six days’ Lenten Retreat from 6th to 11th April, 2025.
I stayed happily with the adult parishioners for the period. During supper within the period, I interacted happily at the table with Father Chukwuma Ofojebe. At the end of the retreat, he offered me a gift before the parishioners and bade me farewell after our last breakfast on 11th April Morning.
Surprisingly, on the morning of 25th April 2025, I saw breaking news in the Whatsapp group of Ekwulobia Diocesan Priests. When I opened it, I slumped on my seat with my mouth wide open. It was when a thick lump of saliva dropped from my mouth that I regained consciousness.
It read: “Late Rev. Fr. Chukwuma Philip Ofojebe.” The Chancellor of our diocese explained that after the routine daily Mass, house chores and night prayer on 24th April, he retired to his room. By 11.00pm, he came down seriously sick. He beckoned to be taken to the nearest hospital immediately. Luckily his vicar was around. He rushed him instantly, to the hospital. Unfortunately he gave up the ghost at the hospital entrance gate.
The world stood still. What was the cause of this sudden death? Throughout that day, I was half dead. Father Chukwuma Philip Ofojebe, why did you leave us without a farewell? Your sudden eternal departure remains a mystery till today. May God grant you everlasting happiness over there! Pray for us who are still fighting against principalities and powers that be. God be with you till we meet again!
As we are recuperating from the shock of Father Philip Chukwuma Ofojebe’s sudden demise, another sudden death occurred on Monday 18 May 2025. It was at the lawn tennis court of St. Patrick’s Cathedral Awka. One of the happiest and dedicated priests on earth, Reverend Father Anthony Nnaemeka Udogu, after morning Mass, drove to the sports arena to keep his body and spirit at equilibrium.
Suddenly, the hands of sudden death struck him while he was playing lawn tennis. He suddenly slumped. All efforts to revive him proved abortive. He was rushed to the nearest hospital. A team of medical doctors put hands together to bring him back to normalcy. Unfortunately their medical efforts were fruitless. He was pronounced clinically dead.
All movements in and around Awka stood still on that black Monday. A close friend of his approached his lifeless body and emotionally asked, “Father Udogu, are you joking. Get up!” He pushed and pushed him to get up, but no way. Death, why did you lay your cold hands on our jovial colleague suddenly? So, it is true that death can come at any moment, even without any signs? Father Tony Udogu, I concelebrated Vigil Mass with you on 31st December at Aguluezechukwu. You rendered a touching requiem homily after which we ate and drank together. Hardly did I know that it was my last interaction with you on earth. May your gentle soul rest in peace, till we meet again!
It is really clear that death comes at the hour we do not expect. Therefore, each and every one must be ready at all times, by living good lives. Let us not postpone our repentance. Procrastination is dangerous. It is medically advisable that we check our blood pressure and sugar level frequently.
Those politicians planning to exploit Nigerians, as usual in 2027, should think twice and provide the dividends of democracy to the hungry and mesmerized citizens of Nigeria here and now. Who knows who will be alive in 2027?
