A coma. A long coma, it must be. I took a curious look at my nephew on his bed and yelled his name. “Dotun! Dotun! Dotun! Silence. No muscle twitched. No brow squeezed. No flexing or stretching at my rude invasion of his joyful sleep. A lone ray from a torchlight picked his face from the dark recess of his room. It was my brother, his father, that switched on the torchlight. And saw what any father would pray not to see till death- a son, helpless, dead. He had…
Read MoreFORMER LAGOS COMMISSIONER KEHINDE BAMIGBETAN MOURNS: HOW I LOST MY NEPHEW TO COVID-19
