I recently learnt of the death of a young man I had last seen in school (the one on a hill far far away) The last time I had seen Sydney, he was young and bright eyed. The world ahead of him, his for the taking. At this point, like the young adolescent he was, he had set his eyes on what could be his love….for life or for a fleeting moment. Sydney had discovered music and he wanted her, he wanted to make her his very own. To live a long happy life together and bring forth many beautiful children in form of song and dance.
Fast forward 11 years later, and I chance upon a recording of a jam session he did at a gathering in Nkozi called “The Common Room.” This, I am told is a meet of free spirited, richly talented young people who are out to bless us less gifted mortals with the abundance of their divine endowment. Sydney, being part of the audience, is yanked up to perform at random and perform he does. Unlike many of us, Sydney had the power to conjure the myth that is creativity, to harness it to do his bidding and subsequently to deliver spell binding stuff. What I heard was unbridled passion, raw talent, a fusion of chords and tunes to deliver melodies delightfully enchanting. This to me was the outcome of an 11 year love affair between Sydney and his music.
Sydney brought the house down that night, but sadly, down is also where Sydney lies now, albeit I am confident his soul dwells with Cherubim in heaven, making the same music he so loved, but for an audience no man will ever perform before.
Let this not be just a eulogy, but a provocation. What’s your passion? Have you pursued it to the ends of the earth? Is it a love affair worth every morsel of effort in your body? And if you have no passion, my heart cries out for you because you live for nothing and for no one at all. You live, walk and breathe but in vain. An empty vessel, void of what life was meant to be and lost in the proverbial wilderness.