Prom ak Ellen, Sang ma cha Bordeaux. RIP. John was a people's people, & I emphasize people bcos he wore many hats, each one successfully. If someone wanted a description of compassion, that was john; humility, that was John; calmness, that was John; talent, that was John. John was among the best who stepped on a football field, yet he never tooted his own horn. John was a glue that always cemented broken pieces. John was a man for all seasons, fair or foul. My day started as if I was blindsided w/ a jack hammer, a world turned upside down, but ended the day in bereavement w/ a smile bcos of all the positives that people wrote & spoke about our dear brother who was a "santiong" in the greatest of sense. It was a good thing that I received Pa Alieu Lette's call as I was arriving at work. Any other time would have sapped all of my energy without any zeal left to work. I managed to work, but other than attending to patients, my Brain was frozen for administrative work. John & I knew each other since we had just graduated from "ngemba" & "tati nenn", that was how long it had been. Before even our love for breeding pigeons, we called him Jonny Boy, & at Lancaster, it was John toobab. Despite his lighter complexion, John was stealth. The rest of us were easily caught when up to no good. No matter what name you called him, boy Porom, Jabel, boy polom, choobab b, he was the same. John came to "endu" at his/our grandma Jay's at Grant Street, where the atmosphere was always communal, from #s 1. 2, 3, 45, 46, 47, & 48. It was a magnet for all from other communities bcos of its central location, & a large playground & the beach nearby. Banjul, in those days had clusters of communities that were brought together during events such as AAA sports. In primary school, John & I solidified our brotherhood when he released his pigeons, perfumed & all, a custom those days, to lure other Pigeons to Lancaster Street, w/ 1 of mine having fallen victim to his ruse. I stood in front of his home, & dared him to come out w/o my bird, which I got back. We had a lot of tricks such as trimming the feathers midway to prevent them from flying away until after they had familiarized themselves with their new surroundings. We would let them grow only when we plucked the feathers. In the world of pigeons, Prom Kunda's top Gun was Kulo Yard (after the now deceased Dodou Kulo). Rene was fond of of one of their aptly named enamel bcos of its glittering greyish color. Every breeder had "cherreh mew" & "ashes color." It was an exclusive club, w/ all having a nickname for their top dog. Pa Saine & Son Pa Chukli of long Street, both of blessed memory, owned Paka Paka, a Pigeon that flapped its wings confidently. The Sampson twins of Clarkson Street owned Ngog Ngog, named bcos of its unique mating call. Late Kojo Williams of Fitzgerald, then Allen Street, owned black power. We were the Pigeon fanciers, a breeders' club, sort of, an exclusive unspoken club of Pigeon owners. Neneh Ndow, a legendary strong man opposite Bjl Tennis lawn on Independence drive, Papa Njie of Hagan Street, opposite the Fosters, Charlie Zoghaib of Picton Street, & Raif of Picton street, all had Pigeons. We knew breeders in Bakau, Serrekunda, Brikama, and Gunjur. The rest of us named ours master yard. The 3rd phase of our brotherhood was when I joined our group of youngsters, vous 26 (Clarkson Street), during our formative years, under the Eagle Eye of Tanta Anna John, who made sure that we were always safe and accounted for, unknown to us that she knew each and every one of us by name until she called us fondly when we dared pluck the Mandarin from the tree. We were her family, & the old man, Pa Alh. A.B. Njie, known to us all as Teeta, knew that we were in safe & in more than capable hands, so he just left us alone to be managed remotely by her. To this day, we are all part of that family, and each and everyone was known by each others' parents and family. During that period John & I often went together to mark our respective registers in the same nook that we both diverted towards when we had all dispersed from our vous. When I called him "kobo foot", he knew what was meant. While I was in the clinic at RVH, while on break from Medical school, Pam walked in w/ a young man, whom I already knew, John's son, Tony, of blessed memory. She informed me that John had wanted me to address his health concerns. Then I was under Dr. Ulric Jones' tutelage. After the encounter, I called him to find out what that was all about, Pam acting as his emissary. I immediately knew that it was the beginning of him forging a relationship with Pam that brought forth 2 very disciplined "jarrbat", whom I always refer to as my 2 fambul in the Prom household. I was slated to be John's best man at their wedding, but for medical school responsibilities while I was in Ghana. John, myself, & a couple of our close brothers in the early 90s while Harry was a baby, never let a weekend go by without us taking a peek at the Ritz, Zanzibar, or Kilimanjaro night club. Very rarely was it boys outing. GCPA, vous 26, and all of humanity, have lost a beacon of what humanity entails. John for the longest time pushed me to get married, & each time he had a candidate in mind, & result was always the same that I never took the bait, until November 2005 when I came over from the UK for an exam in Atlanta, when he asked me to call Vero. He had given both sides the dossier, and the rest, as they say was history. I had pushed a car in the dead of winter uphill with John, baby Harry in the Car, and a worried Pam at home, but we made it. That determination would also see those whom he has left behind through. He is gone to join the many great souls we have loved and lost prematurely, Eric Lewis, Chux, Als, Fams, family members, friends, acquaintances, and many more. They've all been missed, and they've all left caves in our hearts. We pray that the next visa approval to checkout would be 40 years from now. If I were to dedicate a song to John because of the heart felt superlatives coming his way, It is mokor leegaye mokor naan, makor kayang kayang. Mokor leegaye mokor Naan, mokor defarr defarr defarr. Mokor leegaye mokor naan mokor jagarr jagarr. Adieu brother John, your reward is assured in Heaven. RIP