They say if you want to see the true character of a person, see how he treats those around him, especially those beneath him. Whenever I was around Brian, I admired how nice he was to everyone and especially how he had a unique way of connecting with each person, a rare interpersonal skill. He carried himself with a humility and warmth that made all who encountered him feel welcome and valued.
Brian and his wife, Linda, opened the doors of their home to me and to many others. He really practiced his famous phrase, “kumakhala bwino ndi anthu.” He would call unexpectedly and ask, “Mubwera liti ku nyumba?” and at other times simply say, “Basi ndimati ndipeleke moni.” It is still difficult to accept that he is no longer with us. Today, as I saw his image printed on T-shirts worn by mourners at the funeral, I found myself almost expecting him to smile and say, “Wawa.”
Death is indeed cruel, yet it also reminds us of the fragility and impermanence of this life. The last time I spoke with Brian was only a few weeks ago, and during that conversation, neither of us could have imagined that he would be laid to rest today, which also reminds me of the uncertainty of my own life and the reality that my time may come at any moment. My heartfelt condolences go to Linda, Brian’s children, family, friends, and all who are grieving this profound loss.
Thank you, O’Banda, for the gift of friendship and for embracing me as your younger brother. Goodnight, my brother. And see you in the morning!
I made a decision a long time ago. I will do as I please. I will speak as I please. I will write as I please. I will not care what anyone thinks. And when my time is up, I will say I lived on my own terms, and I will gladly own up to the consequences of my words and deeds!