Michael Jayeola Adenaike was affectionate and friendly: a rare gem among his fellow teenagers and a care giver to neighbourhood children that rode bikes or played basketball on the streets and playgrounds with him. But deep inside his florescent humanity and kindness, Michael, with unconditional love and support from his dad, Oba David Adenaike, dealt with terminal brain cancer. He didn’t wish world citizens to feel his pain or sympathise with the remaining days of his life, as dictated by the disease and God. He pleased those that were privileged to cross his path those 19 years on planet earth. He smiled into sunset on Sunday, May 24.
Michael had a rare form of tumour in his brain called Angio plastic astrocytoma. It was highly aggressive and extremely difficult to treat. Webmd.com describes symptoms of his brain cancer as being “influenced by which part of the brain is involved and the functional system it affects (e.g. motor, sensory, language, etc.). For example, vision problems may result from a tumour near the optic nerve. A tumour in the front part of the brain may affect the ability to concentrate and think. A tumour located in an area that controls motor function may cause weakness, numbness or difficulty with speech. Any tumour that is significantly large can create multiple symptoms because of the pressure created by the mass: Problems controlling eye movement, facial expressions and speech, and weakness in the arms and legs.
Adenaike on sick bed
“Astrocytomas develop from small, star-shaped cells called astrocytes, and may arise anywhere in the brain or spinal cord. Astrocytomas are the most common primary CNS tumour. In adults, astrocytomas most often occur in the cerebrum, which is the largest part of the brain. The cerebrum uses sensory information to tell us what’s going on around us and how our body should respond. The left hemisphere controls the muscles on the right side of the body, while the right hemisphere controls the muscles on the left. The cerebrum also controls speech, movement and emotions, as well as reading, thinking and learning.”
Michael died early morning of Sunday at the Westchester Medical Center, Vahalla, New York, one year after series of hospitalisation.
In his mid teenage years, as an energetic young man and sports enthusiast, Michael complained of headaches. His dad didn’t pay serious attention to the headaches, partly because of the way the young athlete handled the discipline of pain management. However, during one of his basketball games at the neighbourhood play ground with friends, Michael fell and was unconscious. He was rushed to the hospital where doctors diagnosed him with brain tumour. Few months later, the tumour grew. He was placed on chemotherapy and rehabilitation treatment schedule. But slowly, his condition was deteriorating: yet father and son kept faith and hopeful attitude that Michael would somehow overcome the illness.
Oba David Adenaike, paralysed by shock and grief of his only child’s terminal disease, got encouragement and prayers from his network of friends, family, neighbours and workmates who stepped in. They initially began raising money to help fund additional medical logistics bills in attempts to save Michael from the deadly illness, as the teenager lay fighting to survive inside the Intensive Care Unit of Westchester Medical Center. He spent months at the hospital where he underwent brain surgery, receiving chemotherapy treatment thereafter. But the brain cancer spread fast at each sunrise. The teenager stayed positive, at peace and courageous in his silent struggles to overcome brain cancer.
Quietly but hopefully, Oba David Adenaike began to accept the terms of God’s engagement with his faith as regards his only child: “Jebose, no parent wants to bury his only child. That’s a taboo in Nigeria: to bury your child. But as reality set in, I embraced that which Almighty God threw at me. I became prepared that Michael at some point would join my ancestors. I did not tell him I might lose him, but I sensed the end game was near these last few weeks. Doctors did everything. I watched him every day breathing through the tubes. There are things that happen in life that are out of your control. I didn’t want to be hopeless. We did everything to save my son, but God was the ultimate decider. I dreamt of him coming over to my bed at night and pulling my blanket in the bed, telling me he was cold and wanted me to cover him with the blanket. It was a sign that Michael was going to leave me any day then.”
Michael Jayeola Adenaike was born on January 9, 1996, in New Jersey, a day when the city was shut down and buried under heavy snow. His mother suddenly went into labour that cold morning. Dad’s car during the drive to the hospital developed mechanical problems because of the inclement weather. His car stalled along the road to an Englewood hospital birthing Center, with a pregnant wife in serious labour cramps. A New Jersey City snow plough vehicle clearing snowed streets was hailed for assistance: The snow plough vehicle drove Mr. Adenaike and his wife to the hospital where hours later, a brilliant, bright child, a son, Michael Jayeola Adenaike, was born. He lived 19 years.
“Jebose, Michael was a gifted artist, sportsman. He was a kind kid, respectful and selfless. He knew how to diplomatically navigate the relationship between his mother and I, always sailing through us with infectious attitude and love. His brains operated at a higher level; hence sometimes I think that’s why he had brain cancer. He would listen to notes in music, especially the keys of the piano and reproduced the same notes. He could write and make music. He never studied music. He played piano notes by ear. I just can’t forget how he watched his mother play the piano and immediately replicated it without looking at the music notes. Michael was all I had. I didn’t want to have children because it took me years to come to terms with losing my father in a horrible way. Michael came in strange but spectacular ways to my life. He was a great basketball player and swimmer too. He was never ashamed of introducing me to his friends. “That’s my father,” he always introduced me that way to his friends whenever I was with him. Michael promised to buy me a space ship. He invited me specially to tell his classmates stories about my country, culture and people. On Sunday, I watched my only son die from brain cancer. It’s been days since he died and I am making funeral arrangements to bury my son in New York: a son conceived in Nigeria and birthed in the United States. I am stronger now. He becomes my newest ancestor. Jebose, I am not angry. I am pained but my philosophy is impartial. Why should I question God for this sadness? God is impartial. You do not pray such life’s tragedy shouldn’t happen to you. Why not me?. Those people with cancer diseases have not done anything to God to deserve the affliction. God gives and takes away. You feel it. You overcome it. I cry. I will get over it. I will heal. It’s not God trying to punish me, or family members. I try as much as possible to be in the middle of life. When Mike was born, I was excited because I found a trusted friend and everything else: he always smiled at me when I returned from work, my head swelled: he boosted my energy with those smiles, excitedly throwing and kicking his legs on the chair. I thank God for the life he gave me and I was able to enjoy 19 years with him.
“I will remember my son as the diplomat we never had: he knew how to negotiate and deal with different human characters. He was a very compassionate son. He wanted to live and care for his mum. I knew he was going to die from the disease. I didn’t tell him I was going to lose him. No father should do that: To tell your ailing son he would die from his sickness? That would be traumatic. I remember the day he jumped into Rose, her aunt’s swimming pool. I jumped into the pool after him, scared he could drown; that father instinct to protect your child always drove me to dive into the pool. I ended up being the one rescued. It was a hilarious moment for the family…The beauty of his life were his careless charm and amazing personality; a friendly young man with a passion to care for fellow friends and strangers. He was a smart son.”
The 19 year old will be buried next Saturday in New York City at a cemetery near his father’s home.
“He won’t be far away from me,” he said.
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