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Goldie Harvey, The Kestrel of Perfection

Long ago I walked through a cemetery in the suburbs of Port Harcourt and spotted the lone figure of a man. He was without motion, staring vacantly at a headstone. I pulled beside him and offered my greetings. He nodded his acknowledgement. His was an inner existence. He was distant and inanimate. I followed his line of vision until I reached a graying headstone. Presently, I am unable to recall the exact name on it, but attached were the sentiments, ‘Our little girl had gone home’. I turned away with a heart reeking of pain. I had shared his poignant experience, and the effects stuck to me for a lifetime. His little girl had gone home untimely and without him. My eyes watered and a teardrop escaped. I stifled it. I am a man, and the society forbids my tears. Ten years after I have tasted a variety of philosophy and education and my views though unchanged have largely been eroded by my large heart. So It was on February 13 2013, and I let the teardrops flow. Each created a waterfall of emotions as I took to my computer to inform the world of the passing of Susan Oluwabimpe Harvey. Our Goldie Harvey. Nigeria’s little girl has gone home, untimely.

Goldie Harvey with her shock of golden hair, mellifluous chirpy accent and her keen spirit graced the world with an abundance of uniqueness. She tore down the limiting shackles of mediocrity and created a niche. Her niche of genius. As little girl she started with an eager face, wide-eyed curiosity, and orientation from a family who gave her love in its extremity, a childhood worthy of a parenting medal, and a healthy dose of the Christian faith. Green Springs Montessori Primary school was the formative house that had the first taste of little Goldie. Pushing the borders of her knowledge, she made a transition to St. John’s College, Palm Grove Lagos.

Home had made its mark on her and so it showed, when even without adequate reading, she was joined the ranks of the A-students in Christian Religious Studies. This was fostered by her parents who had a strong relationship with the church. Her mum marshaled the choir, while The Dad had played an intrinsic role in clerical leadership. Her father rose her, though in strict manner, but in godly perfection.

“My childhood was very interesting but regimented. My Dad was a leader in church and very active too while my mum used to lead the choir. So, as their first child, I took very active roles in all church activities – drama, choir, bible classes and so on. Church was the only social life we had. On Mondays, we went for bible classes’’. She said.

Her dad allowed her no toy-strewn room, or girlie chatty friends, all in a bid to shield his little girl from worldly contamination. And so she grew, guided and guarded by a well-meaning father and nurtured by a singing mother who also was her best friend. Her mother was also a paragon of perfection. Perfection not limited to moral values, but seeping into her intellect, her home-keeping, the quality of her relationships and to her sweet little Goldie Harvey. She primed her by conversation and mutual sharing. Perfection was the aim, and by perfection she ought to live. But then came cancer, who opened the portal of death, and her Mum died. Little Goldie was cut off from an invaluable supply line of excellence. But the seeds were already sown, and she just had to let them manifest.

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Goldie had the skills of art from birth. She was born with the DNA of flair. Goldie always had looked up to her musical heroines of Mariah Carey, Celine Dion and Toni Braxton. All were larger-than-life icons of entertainment. Blossoming in the arts, she moved to University of Sunderland, bagged an educational degree and returned to Nigeria. Reigniting her musical self, she slowly rose. Her style, Her flair and unique originality made her a symbol Nigerians begged to love. And so to perfection, she sang. Her budding singles Komole, spin me, shift, nothing changed, didn’t exactly announce her as an entertainment Eagle, but she was more like a kestrel. High-flying and colourful. So, on she went. Never back-tracking, never dithering. She blazed up the ladder and sailed into our speakers and screens.

Goldie had that spark, that tenacity, that strenght. Her boundless energy was absorbing. If ever she got into a fight with life, my money would have been on her giving it a KO. But out of life she went. Departing to a land distant and beyond. Sing it not in Islands of Lagos, tell not of it in the Flowing waters if Port Harcourt. Nigeria will miss the flowing hair of gold, the contagious laughter and the joy you brought to all that beheld you. Nigeria’s little girl, has gone home.

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