Funso Alabi: How Can I Say Goodbye?

Funso Alabi, one of our most esteemed actors is dead.

Funso was an accomplished actor on stage and on TV and also played some leading roles in our movies in Nollywood.

Funso Alabi played the lead role in my "Sleepless Night" that he loved so much and always recited lines from the play.

I am sober. Reflecting on his life and life in general. The dreams he had and was hoping they would be realized. Now, he is dead. And I had good wishes for him.

I have decided to dedicate "Sleepless Night" as a memorial tribute to him. And also to write a short story "Memories of Another Day" on how much I knew him.

I hope he made peace with God before he passed on. Because, what matters most is not how he died, but how he lived.

May his soul rest in peace.

whos is he pls

I am hearing this for the very first time.I still saw hin on television on sunday.There is this soap that RCCG City of David sponsors where he features as the dad of a girl who recently became a christian.Wow!

I had seen him perform in Ife on stage in my final year.He does a lot of one man show for w while too.He was good.One of the last stage faithfuls.

R.I.P a respected friend

How awful .Can any one post his pic so that please

picture plz?

hope thiz help:

http://www.sunnewsonline.com/webpages/features/showtime/2006/apr/07/showtime-07-04-2006-001.htm

Ok I've seen him acting

RIP RIP RIP RIP RIP RIP RIP RIP RIP RIP

He will be missed

Many of us don't know him.

Please someone to post his picture so we can recognize him.

Anyone with his Picture?

click on the link in my last post above

RIP Funsho. Another great one is gone.

i was so shocked firday when i flipped the pages of a newspaper and came across the story that funsho Alabi is dead.
i was pained. i really loved him. one of the few that are really good especially on stage.

adieu brother dear! rest in perfect peace!

May his soul rest in peace

Another gem lost!
May God grant his family the fortitude to bear the lose.

i happen to know him, on a one on one basses, we did a "War against aids" symposium. many years back,

So sad

OMG

Aaaah! our industry has lost a gem o!!! i knew the guy, he was my dad's friend, and as a kid i hung around them a lot, early on i started appreciating his poetry, he was more than an actor, sad not many people know him considering how much he put into our society in the fight against AIDS, kai, it is well

If any of you remember 'mind your language' a comedy series that used to show on the NTA in the eighties and reruns in the nineties, he was the teacher to others like mada Kofo, Aleka,Odiri and the others.

FUNSHO ALABI: A CRUSADING THESPIAN GOES TO REST

Funsho Alabi always provided me with a ready model of one who understood well enough to live precisely by what legendary United States Supreme Court Justice and literary connoisseur Oliver Wendell Holmes uttered as a candid call: /Speak clearly, if you must speak at all - / carve each word, before you let it fall. /


Ever conscious of the ephemeral flux of time and its every season, the Funsho Alabi I knew never could afford to give in to pettiness. This came out in his articulateness and deliberate diction, both to be emulated.


I grew up knowing from his ubiquitous one-man acts against drugs abuse as well as his HIV/AIDS enlightenment campaigns the power available for stirring people to positive action. It resides in the arts. Also simply awe-inspiring was every solo performance of the epochal speech by American Civil Rights leader, the late Reverend Martin Luther King, Jr.: I Have A Dream. I was equally delighted to know he was part of Wole Soyinka's Unlimited Liability Company/ I Love My Country, a hip satirical musical act of the 80s that kept feet tapping and tongues wagging, in more ways than one!


He was a thespian's thespian in a nutshell. No doubt about that, at least to me. His playful, yet meaningful, ways endeared him so much to so many to no end. Every meeting with him, even impromptu, he would imbue with the substance that transmutes into the 'can-do' spirit that makes for earnestness to leave one energized for action for the good of society.


Incidentally, on the eve of his death on Sunday April 2 I was at a wedding ceremony where I got introduced to another guest with whom I was to discover I had more than a few common interests: Writing, theatre – and Funsho Alabi. He had taught her at the University of Lagos, Unilag. She even had a jibe for him, which he graciously allowed himself, and of course everybody else, to enjoy. She'd remained a 'huge fan' (her words) of the irrepressible fellow since. In a jiffy I had my mobile phone handset out and scrolling to 'Funsho Alabi'. She became more than a little enthused. I even toyed with the idea of calling him up for her sake. I only balked from doing so because of the din of the place. Now I'm sorry I did not - at least - try.


It is pretty difficult for me now to reconstruct how we met, though I'm wont to think it's due to the datelessness of the sessions we had at which we talked "art for life's sake," his take on the engagement of the arts. Thus he would weave in and out of my life from time to time, till near the end. Or perhaps I was his brilliant Science background, something we both shared. (He was an 'A' Science student back at Federal Government College, Kano; so was I at Government College, Katsina, decades later.) Though separated in age by a few decades, and regardless of his consummate stature in the arena, there's always a confluence of minds whenever we met. He never either looked down on you in condescension or come across as rarefied. Such was his genius.


He would talk with dripping candour on our present dearth of heroes especially, the erosion of values in society, and the corrosive effect of the plethora of 'Nollywood' films, on the language and lifestyle of our young people. (Even one of their own, the iconic Richard Mofe-Damijo, RMD - a Funsho Alabi crony and sparring partner - in a recent deposition on that bees' hive declared of some of their outputs: 'Na wah!' Funsho Alabi would have said: 'Jagajaga', or child's play.)

We shared a common conviction in this regard: MKO Abiola in death - and what his Mandate represented - for consideration for hero status. He encouraged my radio play venture on the times and travails of the martyred politician.


In 2002, our paths crossed over an extended trail when he came as the lead character on the cast of command performances of Ayo Lijadu's production of acclaimed playwright Philip Begho's epic Power of Lions . Staging was at the French Cultural Centre, Ikoyi, as well as the Musical Society of Nigeria (MUSON) Centre, Onikan.


I was Author's Assistant. Funsho Alabi left me flattered by his consultations with me on the nuances of "Power of Lions", which he loved so much. I thought he wanted a peek into the mind of the maker of that dramatic piece. I obliged him as much as I could, basking in the attention. I also thought that given his build and gait he wore his role well as King in Power of Lions.


After all, ó síngbònlè as the Yoruba would say. But not Funsho Alabi: he simply wouldn't be rest his oars on his performance at rehearsals. For him, there's always room for improvement – the largest room in the world. In the end, I think there were rave reviews in the press for he, along with his cast, carried the day.


It hurts greatly now to recall our last meeting. It was at Iganmu, Lagos. I met him waiting. 'For an appointment,' he had intoned blandly. It was obvious he had been kept waiting for long. But in his characteristic graciousness he still maintained his cool – and kept on waiting. Only, I mused, he never kept anyone waiting.


I was given to thinking of him as an unrepentant stickler for principles in absoluteness, a dân ka'ida as the Hausa say. We bantered a little and I went on to my goal: the monthly meeting of the Association of Nigerian Authors, ANA (of which Funsho Alabi had been a longstanding friend) already underway yards away from where he was at the Aina Onabolu Complex of the National Theatre.


But not before the following exchange. He was thankful for the opportunity to see me, so he could again get a mutual friend's number from me. I also sought his help on my need of the moment: to make contact with and possibly meet author Bode Sowande regarding his novel Our Man the President, in respect of a new TV programme on books I was yet in the throes of planning.


He gazed slightly skywards and said there's nothing to it. He promptly whisked out his mobile phone to look up the contact of a friend and colleague at Unilag, Tunji Sotimirin. He who would, he was sure, oblige me with the necessary information for tracking down my quarry. He would put in a word for me first, he assured.


Unilag I remembered it was, as he once told me, that he had to walk away from because of the abjectness of the academic decadence in it that had come to a head for him, intent on making him lose his head. He would not let them do that to him, he had chuckled to. He had once expressed how mounting undergraduate illiteracy greatly bothered, even distressed, him.


How could Funsho Alabi die so unsung, so unspent? No wonder a Christian author and statesman the Bahamian Myles Munroe once said that the richest place on the face of the earth isn't the oil fields of Iran or the diamond fields of South Africa, but the graveyard. I have asked myself those questions, along with a myriad others in the last week since his demise.


Since reading Richard Wurmbrand's Answer to a Quarter Million Letters (the hinge is the singular 'answer'), I have come to the conclusion that there really are only a few answers in all, myriads though the questions may be. In the case between Funsho Alabi and the society he was expended for, the judgment is in: State failure.


And, a failed state can only fail the people in it; especially those who dare express a grouse against that state of affairs but who have been checkmated by state brigands from state affairs. It could never happen in any civilized part of the world that an artiste of Funsho Alabi's stature of contributions to the state as unrequited services would remain unremunerated for his devotion to his art, his craft, especially done sustainably well in the service of the people.


But there's an inward rot to be addressed as well. I overheard a member of the local writers community – a segment of Funsho Alabi's clan in life – lament a few days after his demise that they simply do not have a culture of looking out for the interests of one another. 'The musicians would have rallied round him to help him undergo adequate medical care if he were to be one of them.' Obviously, even writers remain clueless as to the extent the snowballing effect of the power of the clan for concerted efforts for the good of any one of them that go, once initiated. No wonder Funsho Alabi, disillusioned, would remain something of a lone ranger in the latter part of his life.


Only a couple of week ago, Funsho Alabi was on Channels TV to offer an accounting of his NGO work with youths in recent times. With his usual gusto, he in an aside talked about care for the artiste – himself a carer – by the artiste' own society. Indeed, 'any man's death diminishes me,' as the metaphysical poet John Donne once prescribed for the benefit of all. The prescription goes on to say: /Never ask to know for whom the bell tolls; /it tolls for thee. /


I know Toyin Akinosho of Festac News and Lagos Books and Art Festival fame (he still harbours nostalgic reminiscences about Funsho Alabi and his 'duels' with RMD; back in the days…) has come out to advise: 'When it comes to arts, let's forget about government', still I cannot but be aghast at the ghastly nonchalance of government honchos of the day to the loss as brain drain for the country – either to lusty, hasty graves, or to 'the land of the brave': America or other markets that may be known. No wonder the young of our land now have ear only for 'the call of the wild' to anywhere but 'here' – a country perceived within and without, rightly or wrongly, as 'a land that devours its own people.'


Now on a last, parting note. Because I share in the faith Funsho Alabi held onto this side of the cosmic divide, I happen to know that the message of the following words held the uttermost meaning for him. They first rang out a couple of millennia ago for recording in a book he so much loved: /And I heard a voice from heaven saying unto me, /Write: Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord from henceforth. /Yes, says the Spirit, that they may rest from their labours, /and their works do follow them / (Revelation of St. John).


Though it is John Keats' Ode on a Grecian Urn: /souls of poets, dead and gone -/ what Elysium have ye known…/ that springs readily to mind now as a memorial, it is however with John Donne's apostrophe wagged in the face of 'the last enemy' (as St. Paul once classified the 'event') that I must end my word on Funsho Alabi. After all, Funsho Alabi did get to sing his swansong: his last public stage performance was Wanle Akinboboye's Odigb'ose – Yoruba for 'Alas, adieu!' – at the La Campaigne Tropicana. I can even now imagine him performing Donne's triumphant poetic piece in his inimitable one-man act style. Maybe he did, standing poised right on cue at the threshold of the celestial portal:

/Death, be not proud / though some have called thee mighty and dreadful, / for, thou art not so! / For, those, whom thou think'st, thou dost overthrow, / die not, poor Death - nor yet canst thou kill me! / From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be, / much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow. / And soonest our best men with thee do go, / rest of their bones, and soul's deliveries. / Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate men, / and dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell, / and poppy, or charms can make us sleep as well, / and better than thy stroke: why swell'st thou then? / One short sleep past, we wake eternally, / and death shall be no more; / Death, thou shalt die! /



DELEKE ADEYEMI,

a literary analyst, has been based in Lagos for years, during which he enjoyed meeting with Funsho Alabi for many a rendezvous.

FUNSO ALABI,  a rare gem with his masterly touches to his presentations.

He was in my youth programme at methodist  and he delved so well into the issue of drug abuse as it relates to drunkeness. He talked so well that, the youth present were all hears and were happy that such programmes was organised !

I was actually shocked when i learnt about his death and his death only brought to fore his contribution to arts and stage play.

Funso Alabi with his one man act will capture his entire audience that, you wont want him to end his presentation.

He is going to be missed so well and i pray that, God should give unto his entire family the fortitude to bear his demise

R.I.P

this is sad news, though i don't really know the guy and i've never heard of him,
But it seems that he was loved so much by people who knew/know him.
Such people will never be forgotten, coz they were good and have left memories behind, that always pleased people
MAY GOD REST HIS SOUL IN PEACE.

@ Orikinla, only a man of Funsho's stature deserves such eulogy. Big ups brotha.

words cannot express how shocked i was when i came across the news of the death of Funso Alabi online.

I first met Funso Alabi during my school days in Federal Govt. College Kano in 1977.
I later met him again at the then University of Ife.
I still remember how perfectly well Funso played a leading role in " Gods are not to blame " in 1978 under the direction of DJ Bullock and his wife.

The last time i saw Funso was on TV in 2002 singing "I love my country, I no go lie".
Funso was a patriotic Nigerian no doubt.

I remember Funso as my Head boy at FGC Kano, a nice gentle man and a great natural stage actor.

Ha !!! Funso : Sun re ooooooooo
Good night Funso and i will see you in the morning.

May Almighty God give members of your family the strength to bear this great loss.

Olufemi Adegbulugbe.
Canada.

I did'nt know he was dead

May his soul personality progress in peace profound.Amen.

I am missing Funso Alabi and we must succeed to keep his memory evergreen.

rip