John Coll: Helpless against a crooked executor

Our mortal powerlessness

Yesterday marked a decade since the passing of my friend and mentor John Coll. As a blogger, I would normally have written something to commemorate and memorialise the day. The blog I wrote last year was meant for yesterday, I was a year off.

Blog - John Coll: Friend, Mentor, Gentleman – January 2015

Blog - John Coll: Calling on Herbert Dzinotyiweyi to fulfil his wishes – December 2013

Much as I want to reflect on our friendship, there are issues of understanding trust and the powerlessness of keeping that trust when you are no longer in the picture.

It brings to mind when Queen Elizabeth II gave her Christmas message desiring that the Duchess of Cornwall as the spouse of the Prince of Wales become the Queen Consort when he assumes the throne. That wish lasted until the coronation of King Charles III when he as king regnant decided his consort would be crowned Queen.

The clear message there is that regardless of the desires of the much-loved Queen, once she joined her ancestors, the powerful effect of her determination had gone with her passing. There is only one monarch in a kingdom and this time, it was Charles III, we had left the Second Elizabethan era for the new Carolean age from the 8th of September 2022.

The danger of a sole executor

In the affairs of life, we exercise both choice and control to varying extents, our presence enables us to order, arrange, and challenge situations to align with our liking and expectations. However, in our passing, where we cannot exercise control or authority, we rely on trusted persons to fulfil our wills, testaments and bequeaths.

There is a clear basis for an executor of an estate and there is law and precept that governs that responsibility, yet it can be abused. John chose the ‘trusted’ financial manager of his company to execute his will, whether it would have been prudent to distribute that responsibility seeing that John had been an employer of labour and skill for decades is another thing.

When John passed on, the primary elements of his will, such as his funeral and the disposal of his estate were followed through and seemingly completed quite promptly. The other part of his will which included bequests to 10 individuals, mostly outside the UK did not get fulfilment.

Once the executor had seen the largesse of the estate the trust reposed in him evaporated into avarice and over years, he schemed to transfer the full value of the estate after probate of about £780,000 to himself. He might have siphoned it out of the country or gambled it away, but he also had another plan, for he had citizenship of Zimbabwe and naturalisation in the UK.

I was onto him in 2019 when I learnt that most beneficiaries of John’s will had not been informed, and those who should have known were kept from prying because the executor feigned complexity of managing the estate and the required taxes.

He escaped accountability and justice

As I was not a beneficiary, I could only inform and instigate in the hope that John’s wishes would be fulfilled, and accountability is looked for as pertains to the fiduciary duty of an executor. Sadly, the police mishandled the situation and allowed the executor a window of opportunity to escape justice leaving the beneficiaries bilked of consequential resources that could have been impactful on their lives if John’s wishes had been conducted.

The lesson here is not only in choosing a trusted lieutenant or friend to execute your estate, especially in the absence of close relations to do the same but in distributing that responsibility so that the executors can hold each other accountable and true to the requirements of the testator.

Whether John had any insight into the character or integrity of his executor, one cannot tell, but with hindsight, the executor was anything but trustworthy. Mortal man is at a loss, for a will has no enforcement until the person is confirmed dead and the same person is powerless to ensure that their will is totally implemented according to the spirit and the letter of will.

A thought on accountable executors

As a man of faith, one of the reasons why Jesus Christ had to rise again from the dead was that the will for man to have eternal life and a relationship with God came into force with His death and the shedding of His blood for our sins. He rose again to ensure his testament was followed completely, that in accepting His sacrifice on the cross and declaring Him Lord, He confers the same sonship He has with God the Father on us too.

Imagine if, at the implementation of a will, the testator had the means to ensure every jot and title of their will was fully done without any challenge to the executor or resorting to the courts to redefine or alter your intention, purpose, and desire. Trust is a fleeting commodity, when it comes to executing a will, please ensure you have built extensive accountability into the process.

It is not John’s fault that things turned out this way, I never had reason to question either his instinct or his judgment when he was alive, people change and when it comes to money and worse still, the love of money, it is the root of all evil, the unconscionable evil that consumed Herbert Dzinotyiweyi.

59 and blessed

Of great blessing

I must be one of the most fortunate and blessed men, yet I am usually unaware of how great mercy and grace have been bestowed upon me. I am thankful and grateful for each day that reveals nothing is of my doing; it is all by the grace of God.

Today, I celebrate my 59th birthday, and many events have occurred in my life that any observer would never have imagined this day would come. Even though I have not dared to think of it, I have just taken each day as it has come.

Of adverse circumstance

When this year began, I was celebrating the 15th year after a life-threatening cancer diagnosis that studies at that time suggested most people never get to live another decade. My story found a turning point at that cancer diagnosis; if I had finished my autobiography, my understanding of life, surviving, and thriving would have pivoted around it.

I never anticipated a diagnosis of malignant prostate cancer, which was confirmed in June after five months of tests and investigations to determine what we had to deal with. I visited Cape Town to see Brian after that diagnosis, quite unaware of what lay in store. It was a different kind of cancer that was invisible and painless but could have, if undiscovered, killed me.

Of living blessed

The only way I found to address my concerns was to listen to sermons about faith and healing. I knew I would undergo some sort of treatment and expected the outcome to be cancer-free. I undertook radical radiotherapy in September/October and have returned to Cape Town to recuperate and recover with the support and care of Brian.

I owe my life, my love, my joy, my happiness, and my belief in a great future ahead to God, my Lord Jesus, my partner, my close friends, my supportive colleagues, and every well-wisher who has offered words of encouragement and material help. Indeed, I am blessed, mightily blessed indeed.

Thank you.

Photons on the Prostate - XV

The need for quality support

When it comes to talking about cancer, I have had the best support from a Cancer Support Nurse Consultant (CSNC) recommended through support services with my place of work. We have scheduled monthly meetings where for sometimes more than an hour we can address all my concerns and issues around dealing with cancer.

Our first meeting which was via Microsoft Teams, and I insisted on an audiovisual engagement rather than plain audio, we talked for about two hours, and it involved giving her a full background on the process to the discovery of cancer and attendant issues.

Macmillan Cancer Support, the Christie Hospital, and my GP have been supportive but what I needed most of all was someone ready to spend time listening, understanding, appreciating, and recommending how to navigate a cancer diagnosis through treatment and recuperation.

I dare say my engagement with Prostate Cancer UK was a distraction. I was well on the way to having active treatment based on the diagnosis of malignant prostate cancer, but they thought I should delay treatment for active surveillance. While anyone would prefer not to endure surgery or radiotherapy, I could not postpone treatment for the comfort of normalcy while cancer was having a gnaw at my prostate gland.

The usefulness of helpful advice

My CSNC is a registered nurse and quite knowledgeable about many of the elements around pelvic area cancers. Most of the progressive solutions I have had to manage the symptoms and side effects along with after-treatment conditions have come through our conversations. Everyone else was just at the end of a telephone, she was there to be seen and heard. It made a whole lot of difference.

In our last meeting we talked about emerging symptoms and side effects with bowel functions. The literature suggested with radiotherapy, people have more issues with the bowel than the urinary or sexual functions. I however had serious urinary problems that I hardly noticed if bowel movements were regular and working as expected.

She then suggested the documented side effects are not essentially a textbook expectation, that side effects can occur at any time during and after treatment in no particular order along with the fact that for some people, they might not experience some side effects at all.

Some outstanding concerns to address

I was recommended to keep a diary of nutrition and excretion patterns, noting the regularity of movements to find what might be the issue beyond the healing process from radiotherapy. While my energy levels are improving, I still find that I tire easily, my need to use the conveniences intervenes with my comfort, and I need to sit down after walks.

Much as I want to believe I am doing well; I am still not where I need to be. I must consider if a phased return to regular activities is needed. That conversation can wait until late in January. What I must do now is relax, rest, recuperate, and recover. Manage the symptoms and side effects as best I can while celebrating the gift of life.

Blog - Photons on the Prostate - XIV

Blog - Men's things - Prostate Cancer blogs

Photons on the Prostate - XIV

Beyond radical radiotherapy

Three months ago today, I began radical radiotherapy for adenocarcinoma of the prostate. It is just six months after I received a confirmed diagnosis, and it needed immediate active treatment after consultation with a multidisciplinary team on options for surgery or radiotherapy.

I worked through the duration of radiotherapy and for a month after the completion of the treatment. However, increasingly, I suffered more impactful side effects that started with chronic fatigue, and issues with my urinary system that limited most outdoor activity as I needed to be close to available conveniences, and one unexpected effect was the way those elements appeared to affect my voice.

My voice became weak and strained, usually determined by my energy levels that was quite sub-optimal most of the time. While against what my body was telling me, I tried to continue as normal, I really had to take a break and have added domestic support that being at home did not offer.

Time off to recuperate

The decision to travel to South Africa while somewhat frail was not taken lightly, but I knew the essential support for my recuperation was best under the watchful care of my partner. I availed myself of all the customer assistance provided by the airline for my journey, no sense of determination could have propelled me through the experience.

I can attest there has been considerable progress, the occasions of fatigue are less frequent, the urinary issues while still needing medication have eased, the sound of my voice is much better with a few relapses, and the painful discomfort that needed opioid medication has completed gone and I have now totally weaned myself off codeine with minimal adverse effects.

The weather in Cape Town might have contributed to my recuperation. I can begin to consider a return to normalcy, which might take a process of reengagement. Much as I try not to have that preoccupy me and concentrate on recovery, there is a world to return to in the New Year.

Looking ahead

I am grateful for the support and care I have received through the period from anticipation when I first had exploratory tests in February, through further investigations, diagnosis, and treatment. My long-suffering partner, close friends, extraordinary neighbours, siblings, and colleagues compassionately accommodated my vulnerability with understanding.

Each time I present an update, I appreciate how it was fortuitous that we caught a high prostate-specific antigen (PSA) reading when we did because at the advent of my treatment, the PSA reading had fallen within the normal range, but for the fact that an MRI scan leading to a biopsy had detected Stage 2, yet malignant prostate cancer.

The need for men especially Black men over 45 to pay attention to their prostate health. Do the checks and have the tests, catch things early and have the best options for recovery.

Blog - Men's things - Prostate Cancer blogs

Blog - Photons on the Prostate - XIII

Other references

Prostate Cancer UK: Black men and prostate cancer

MedScape: International Prostate Symptom Score (IPSS) Calculator

Urology Care Foundation: Benign prostatic hyperplasia (BPH)

NHS: Prostate Specific Antigen (PSA) test

Prostate Cancer UK: The PSA blood test

Nickel Blogs - Blog by blog for 21 years

A House, A Home - Anna Wilson

The first brick

I thought the 8th of December 2003 was a weekend, but it was a Monday. Now, I cannot recollect what I was still doing in a Berlin hotel the day I wrote my first blog. I must have been on holiday.

I had been sharing some of my views with a closed circle of friends by email, but it was not efficient, and frankly, some were rather fed-up with me clogging their inboxes with musings and rantings. Did one not ask that I be more authentic, and by that, suggested I was putting up a façade?

Blogging was becoming a trend, it was the subject of an interesting report I caught on CNN when it was the global news outlet pumped into every international hotel room. Quick research on how to start a blog landed me on a website managed by a small outfit in Scotland, and http://akin.blog-city.com/ (now defunct) was born.

Building homes

Even blog hosting sites could not stay the course as I received an email in late 2010 that the service would close in January 2012. That began the process of migrating what we now call content to Google’s Blogger and https://akinblog.nl, over 1,500 of them, a manual activity and what I lost in the process was the engagement and many link references.

Brick by brick, blog by blog, I built a house and a home of thoughts, views, opinions, and perspectives. I have been writing about what I have experienced and how it might affect me or others for 21 years. It is as easy as it is hard. I have 4,177 blogs, including this one, with over 8,300,000 views to date.

A place of blogs

I am commemorating today with a song written by Anna Wilson for Habitat for Humanity International because every sentiment expressed in that song applies to this home that my blog has become.

Finally, thank you to everyone who has visited my blog for whatever reason, some interacting by leaving comments or engaging me directly. I found a quiet corner and you came to say hello, I appreciate you all and hope you will continue to visit and interact with my blog and me.

Here’s to many more anniversaries. In human terms, the 21^st signifies the key to life and the anniversary gift is nickel. Let’s keep building homes for every expression of humanity, brick by brick.

Nickel Blogs - Celebrating 21 years of blogging

Nickel Blogs - In view of 21 years of blogging

Nickel Blogs - 21 years of telling better stories

Nickel Blogs - 21 years of going against the grain

Nickel Blogs - 21 years of articulating the identity spectrum

Nickel Blogs - 21 years of articulating the identity spectrum

Finding a place to be known

Negotiating the identity spectrum has been a feature of my blog, though when I consider the situation, it has always been a feature of my life. However, having a blog has helped articulate the issues around how identity is more defined by influences than by progeny.

I can think of the many experiences and realisations, the earliest being when I first arrived in Nigeria, barely a 5-year-old and I noticed there were more people like me than where we had left. How was a little black English boy to know that Nigeria would be different?

English, people have issues with that, I am supposed to be Black British, yet on those atrocious forms, I would write in Black English. That aspect of being English became ascendant when I had to tackle the question of where I was from when I lived in the Netherlands.

The many questions of where

“Where are you from?”, they would ask. I answer, “I am from England”. The next question usually was, “Where are you originally from?”, The answer, “England”. Confusion or frustration clouds their faces with a further inquiry, “Where are your parents from?”, The answer, “Nigeria”. Enlightenment, “So, you’re Nigerian”, “No, I am not, I was born in England.”

The best question in that vein was, “What is your birth country?”, I answered, “England”, and my interlocutor asked no further questions. This brings me to the other matter of my accent, it started as a typical Brummie accent influenced by associations in Nigeria especially in schools that had a large international pupillage.

Strange juxtapositions of identification

It's funny that most of the Caucasian kids were Nigerian-born, and many of the black kids were foreign-born, with foreign accents, too. However, reading an article by a friend of mixed-race parentage revealed another interesting thing about identity. Those of mixed-race parentage were othered from afar. We looked like everyone else until we began to speak, and then we were put aside, too.

It was like we never really belonged where we thought we belonged; we had to work out how we wanted to be identified. For instance, how do you tackle a statement like, “You’ve always thought like a Westerner?” I was 42 years old, which was what my father said in a conversation.

The privilege and the opportunity

In my case, I have found both privilege and opportunity by the accident of birth that is not of my making, how it has helped me navigate situations in life and at work cannot be covered in a blog. Too many examples come to mind.

Maybe, I am more fortunate that working with my sense of identity and the quality of my education has taken me to interesting places.

I have little time for identity politics, but woe betide anyone who attempts to pigeonhole me in dockets where I neither identify nor wish to place in. Such is the life of a Third Culture Kid.

Some additional context

A Third Culture Kid (TCK) is a person who spends a significant part of their childhood living in a country or countries that are different from at least one of their parents' passport countries:

The child's parents' culture is the first culture.

The host country's culture is the second culture.

The child's own cultural identity is the third culture, which is a fusion of the first two.

The child adopts some traits from each culture. [If I may add, some kids even live in bubbles different from the nominal culture too.]

Nickel Blogs - 21 years of going against the grain

Developing a life of views

It would appear even to me that my blog has developed some unintended characteristics, but these have become some of the elements that give context to what I write.

For instance, one regularly occurring theme is the Thought Picnic which began just like when the blog began, in a hotel room on one of my travels. I was in Antwerp during my news junkie days when another of those Israeli-Palestinian conflicts was in the news.

The world news channels gave an Israeli representative a global platform to which she relayed to my unmistakable hearing, “We have to tell the world our truth.” Not the truth, but their version of the truth, which in its narrative was as far from the truth as the opposite cardinal points of the compass were from each other.

I found myself carted away in my mind’s eye on a picnic into a wilderness left to my thoughts to contemplate the seemingly intractable issues of the world around me. Indeed, I wander away in thought, into things that seem silly or complex. Those who have wondered what goes on in my head want to venture in there as I warn them it is probably no place for the sane.

Becoming an alien to the contemporary

You might also wonder why I have a theme titled Essential Snobbery 101; it is hardly about snobbery but a reflection on how norms have changed over time that some of us despite adaptations still find certain attitudes and behaviours unbelievably strange as to wonder if we have been visited by an alien civilisation.

There are themes dotted around this blog of 21 years, they are informed by perspectives and outlooks that might differ from how people would generally view things. There is a surfeit of commentary on the issues of the day, and where I have an opinion, I dare say it is rarely on the well-trodden ground of thought.

Challenging the orthodoxy brings conflict and controversy, however, celebrating independent thinking should never go out of fashion. Even when I was involved in syndication, remaining unaffiliated and so not beholden to a corporate policy mattered more to me than gaining a wider audience.

Nickel Blogs - 21 years of telling better stories

Celebrating life in abundance

21 years can seem like a lifetime, yet it is just over a third of my life. In that time, one can look back at the many things that have happened, the things done, the people encountered, the places travelled to, the events and activities that could be life-defining, and that becomes a chronicle of life.

I count my blessings and celebrate the joy of living. To have lived through two episodes of life-threatening cancer 15 years apart and still have a story to tell makes me one of the most fortunate people alive.

I take nothing for granted, the life I live is by the grace and mercy of God, medical interventions notwithstanding, the guarantees offered count for nothing if you do not have a greater assurance for results.

For writing better stories

Then what do you do when you have a blog and experience episodes of cancer? You write about it, document the treatment and side effects at diagnosis, and provide some thoughts in the aftermath.

Yes, my blog contains life stories and experiences, both the toughest and the triumphant. I am still standing because there is much more to reveal in my life, and I have better stories to tell.

Whatever inspired my blog at its inception has now turned out to be a reckoning of how favour had greeted me in too many places to mention, especially where I have neither worked for nor deserved the abundance of good that has come my way.

You would notice I rarely use the word lucky, rather, I am fortunate; 1: bringing some good thing not foreseen as certain: auspicious 2: receiving some unexpected good. Definitions according to the Merriam-Webster dictionary. If anything, I have been remiss and negligent in recording the many instances of this glorious divine goodwill accorded me.

Nickel Blogs - In view of 21 years of blogging

It might be a low-key affair

I obviously had great ambitions for celebrating the 21^st anniversary of blogging in a week’s time, but that takes both organising and promoting, activities I cannot say I have the skill for.

Nickel Blogs - Celebrating 21 years of blogging

As it goes, I might just settle for a celebratory blog and a review of things that have caught my attention and interest over that period. The blog itself remains a personal blog even as I find that it garners a global readership and has been achieving record monthly visits for most of this year.

While storytelling has not gone out of fashion, it is a shame that personal blogs of a non-profit nature have waned in significance. As I have alluded to, other forms of expression and media platforms have taken hold as global attention spans have become more engaged with the stimulation of different senses for thrills.

Longevity can be impactful

The other day when I introduced a colleague to my blog, the first thing that caught their attention was the collapsed year archive that read as far back as 2003. Some people even thought I had a journalistic background; I have rarely done anything in the arts and humanities since my secondary school days. However, I do have an interest that might eventually inform a graduate programme.

If anything, the longevity alone can be interesting. I have not made many changes to the blog even though some static content does need to be updated. I won’t even ask anyone to wade through almost 4,200 blogs, but the “Random Post” button on the desktop or non-mobile version of the blog can lead to interesting topics.

Meanwhile, I will post a few thoughts until the anniversary. Thank you for visiting my blog.

Thought Picnic: Time

Time is not a property

Time is a gift we usually do not use properly or cherish its utility. The time we should make for ourselves, for others, or for things. Using time judiciously without wasting it, for ourselves or for others.

The reckoning accounted for in the scheduling and keeping of appointments, giving little room to tardiness out of consideration, courtesy, and respect. We get away too often with not being punctual and having excuses for why we have failed on our part.

There are many facets of time and timekeeping, having an agreed datum for a time reference, that time is not just ticking away, but correct on every timepiece in whatever location, so no one is confused about what the time is. If any time is askew, it should only be in a reasonable margin of error of the magnitude of a few seconds and never more.

Time is a generous gift

Beyond the exactitude of time, the most critical use of time is finding the time and making the time to cultivate relationships, to create wholesome and life-enhancing connections with ideas, people, and events.

After the fact, we find ourselves regretting not seizing the opportunities that time has afforded us, but we are allowed to pass until it is too late. We give time to the negative in holding grudges and offence when should be constructively changing the paradigm for the beauty of fellowship.

Certain things are irredeemable, yet until we have tried our best at redeeming them, we let things lapse and ruefully review in the dreamy unreality of a parallel universe that could have been the universe we inhabited if we made better use of time.

Time is a gift; it is a present we need to be more grateful for and be profusely thankful that we are given a measure of it to make the best of life and living.

Dr William George Wykeham Legg (Willy)

Sadly, it happened

As we suspected without putting words to our thoughts, a message that we received late yesterday came with the confirmation that a friend had passed on after a protracted illness.

I never met Dr William Legg, known as Willy to many; he was born in Zimbabwe and even though he travelled the world for work and his medical education, he was Rhodesian and Zimbabwean, part of a cohort of typically white Africans that apart from their distinctive appearance would pass for native in manner, tongue, and probably outlook too.

It was through Brian that I made an acquaintance with Willy, who was ever courteous, wise, and, well, naughty. I guess with the people who crossed his path due to his profession, you acquire a facility to engage anyone at any level and keep them totally at ease.

Some interactions to note

Whenever he asked Brian to pass his regards to me, there was something lewdly impolite that he also expected Brian to do, to ensure I got the message completely. Seeing my interest in not just Brian but Bulawayo too where he lived, he sent me an old hard-cover book on Bulawayo that contained language that would not pass the censure of a copywriter today.

It depicted a time and place that once was with an engaging narrative that made you want to make off to see, feel, and experience Zimbabwe. There was an expectation that we would meet as he desired to take me to the Matopos Hills, and I was more than interested as that is also where Cecil John Rhodes was buried.

A thought in closing

Alas! We never got to do that, as I have yet to visit Zimbabwe, and he had become quite increasingly frail over the last few years. While having a very active mind to the end, his body literally incapacitated him.

I have heard and read many stories about Willy. He spoke fluent Ndebele, could make chapatis from scratch, was a doctor to many, and a teacher of the medical sciences to many more.

To Brian, he was a friend, a boss, a confidante, a mentor, a father figure, and much more. It is with him that I grieve the passing of Dr William Legg. May his gentle soul rest in peace.