This because I lived at Ìdí Ishin at the time. The senior advocate who passed on was a neighbour and was celebrating his 70th in church. The congregation refused to dance with him. Food wasted. Congregation won't eat. Vicar said let bygones be bygones. Congregation stared.

Live your life in such a way that if you had to write your memoirs, it won't be too hard on you to be truthful.

I felt sorry for the man. It wasn't a particularly affluent neighborhood. The people there at the time were likely to be retired professors. My landlord at the time was a vice president at the World Bank. No we don't want your rice.