BY DR. GERALD
Long before the title ARCHBISHOP, there was a boy called Valerian Maduka Okeke. From a reliable classmate and a close friend, I was told that my uncle was the neatest student in their classroom and always appeared clean and spotless. I know that those people who knew me very well would say that I didn’t copy that virtue or mannerism; my simple reply is that I am not in competition with my father, period. Now back to the main topic, the adage that cleanliness is next to godliness is made manifest in the life of Archbishop. If I were to classify the areas of interest in this celebratory time, it would be unending because I would move from sanguinity to social and end with spiritual. First, he is an uncle in the primary sense, my teacher, my spiritual director, my mentor, my Oga, like Jesus would say to the apostles, “I now call you friends.” He is my friend. So, on any of the topics I chose to write, I am qualified and authorized to do so.
Archbishop told me that while in primary three, a fellow pupil who was jealous of him would come and put dirt on his white shirt, always saying he looked too clean. His parents would wash the clothes and make them clean before the next day. They told him to stop the student from putting dirt on his clothes, that he should fight back. The following day, the student came to do his normal dirt job. The young Maduka fought back with two strong punches, and the student ran away. And that was how the shirt remained clean till today. I shared this to tell you, the reader, that uncle is not afraid of confrontation. If you doubt me, go and try, and you will see for yourself.
Anyways, today is your birthday and I am here to wish you happy birthday and not to speak long grammar. In the seminary, as our teacher and rector, you always said that the measure of love is to love without measure. The whole student body in Bigard Seminary from 1990 to 2002 will not forget your magnanimity. People who do not know you benefited from your love, and people who come in contact with you do not want to lose the connection. You told us that the best form of love is gratitude. And in all your speeches, you have three points to make. The first point is always gratitude, while the second point most of the time is gratitude, and you always conclude with the third most important point, which is gratitude. Many students of yours have tried to copy and replicate this behavior but it is not so easy as it sounds. In my own gratitude, I would say that I am grateful to God for sending me here on earth through your lineage; I am grateful to you for your leadership and love, and I am extremely grateful to you for your personal and direct support, on whom I turned out to be this very day and time. Happy birthday, Uncle.
I recall the following incident. We were in a vehicle driving at a high speed on a freeway. We had just finished praying the rosary. You closed your eyes briefly in meditation, and I was sitting by your side observing you closely. The driver was doing 120 KPH, and you opened your eyes and asked the driver not to overtake the car in front of us and to slow down. You had not finished your words, and the car swerved in front of our vehicle, and the driver shouted. I still narrate this story to a lot of friends, and when I tell it to you, your response has always been, “I always listen to the voice of God inside me.” When there was a football match between Bigard and other seminaries, you did not sit on the high table with the dignitaries; you sat on the bench with the team and the coaches and motivated the players. You called them boys to ginger them up and provided all the required equipment and support. The rest of the seminarians were jealous of Bigard seminarians because of the way you treated us. When we arrived for all seminary games, our food was catered, and our camp was orderly and clean. You made us primus inter pares.
When you became our rector in February 1996, the seminarians were wondering and complaining about how and where they would watch the Olympic Games. Your first job was to set up a television room with 75 inches television and a satellite dish mounted. We could watch the whole world from our seminary. Immediately, you provided a computer lab where seminarians could go on the internet 24/7. The seminary was internet–ified, if there is a word like that. Phone lines were multiplied, phone booths were added, and we could communicate with our family and friends at any time of the day. I remember watching the 1996 Atlanta Olympics, 1998 world cup, 9/11 terror attack, and the 2002 Japan/Korea World Cup. We did not run after a lorry tanker in search of water because you built a water dam, and we started using showers and sinks in our rooms again. There was a FIFA-grade field where we played our matches. The Enugu Rangers football club came in from time to time to borrow our field for training. A professor in the seminary would always refer to your time by saying, “We are the privileged generation that was lucky to be here when you were the rector.” He would always tell us before teaching that your type of person is very rare to find in the world.
Finally, na mechi, the world has benefited from your birth, so this birthday is universal. I have asked you privately what you gain from being kind and putting up a lot of resources to train the young people. You sat me down and said that a general or warrior who is not grooming a worthy successor is not a good general. Going further, you pointed out to me the danger of leaving the young generation without a guide. You pleaded with me not to allow the generosity I receive from you or from anyone else to end with me. Everyone who has come into contact with you speaks about your generosity, and the young people are naturally attracted to you. Your goodness has followed you, and your kindness speaks for itself. I have benefited from you all around. I say thanks so much uncle. Happy birthday, Uncle; happy birthday, Nnam Ochie; happy birthday, Fr. Val; happy birthday, Fr. Rector; happy birthday, Archbishop.
