Our paths crossed 15 years ago at work when, in 2009, Ife joined ZK Advertising in Lagos, Nigeria where I was a Junior Art Director. I didn’t pay much attention to the news about the new copywriter who had schooled in the US, as that seemed to be the minimum recruitment requirement of the company at the time. It however didn’t take long before we were paired on a project for Zain Mobile. After some brainstorming, we proceeded to execute the task at hand, and a friendship was kindled.
Her stay at the company was brief, so no one would have guessed that our friendship would become so enduring. “Ayooooo!!!” she would exclaim every time she reached out. She believed so much in me … I would top the list of people to call when someone needed a problem solved. Her boss at Taxi Ad needed an office makeover? Call Ayo. Her boss at DealDey was laying the seeds of Konga.com? Call Ayo. Her friend wanted to stage an ambitious spectacle for her fashion brand? Speak to Ayo. To her, I was Superman while she was DC’s version of Nick Fury. More often than not, I would find ways to co-opt her on these projects, so we were always in touch, sometimes working as a team. It felt like my single most important job was not to disappoint the huge faith she bestowed in me. I hope I didn’t.
We grew even closer over time. She invited me to her family house in Isolo to meet her friend Tobi, where, after serving us a sumptuous meal, she opened up on her love for cooking—a passion she would later develop as a restaurant reviewer. A few weeks later, she was playing driver to another friend who had just paid for an apartment and needed her input on the makeover.
Of course, she involved me, but the highlight of that day was how smooth Ife’s driving was, an opinion echoed by the other passenger in the car. It seemed she was masterful at everything she set out to do. She was also selfless. When I narrated my mum’s battles with HBP to her, she asked her own mum to stop by and drop off some medication.
She eventually moved back to the US, but our communication didn’t cease. When I started Bedouin, she was happy for me and reached out a few times for my assistance with paperwork. She also made me meet her brother Lanre and insisted we commence a mentor-mentee relationship. I’m glad she did, as this remains one of her enduring legacies to this day. It was as though she knew she wouldn’t be with us for long.
We both got married at separate times, yet our friendship blossomed still. Infact our spouses became woven into the fabric of our friendship. Not a lot of people would have guessed that we shared different faiths. She was a devout Christian, while I am a practicing Muslim. This speaks to the strength of her personality. One thing I cherished most about Ife was that she loved her family deeply but loved God even more.
I’ll cherish every memory, Ore (as she fondly called me), especially the ones between March and May as she tasked me with helping her fulfill what has now become a dying wish through her siblings. I pray God continues to keep her family and loved ones, especially her dear mum.
I miss you Ore mi Ife “Ahava” Komolafe, my forever ally.
