Rümatho Nyusou
That all of us will die one day is a fact that we are all well aware of. But when death comes to claim its victim, especially when the supposed victim is our loved one, it always comes as a bolt from the blue. The sad news about the demise of Dr. Satuo is one such surprise. Barely a week ago, I was in Kohima for some work. It was on the evening of October 28, as I drove passed his residence near Tinpati Junction, I noticed the figure of an old man seated alone in the courtyard of his residence. It was unmistakably Dr. Satuo, enjoying the warmth of the evening sun.
Dr. Satuo and I had known each other for quite many years now, but for a man of his age. I needed to re- introduce myself to him. So I got down from my vehicle, walked over to him, shook his hand and introduce myself. For a while he looked lost but when he heard my name, the smile on his face returned. Standing there for a couple of minutes, we shared a few pleasantries and said to each other “goodbye.” Age has taken a toll on his youthful health, but my cursory reading of his fitness status did not in any way indicate that he was going home after one week. I now know that God had arranged that “farewell meeting”, just for the two of us on the spur of the moment.
Dr. Satuo was a retired officer but very little did I know him as a government servant. To me he was a good human, an elder of the church, and a friend in a common journey on the way. Our association with each other began in 2001 when I joined Shalom Bible Seminary as a Lecturer. He was on the Board of Governors of the Seminary as its Chairman for many years. I remember Dr. Satuo as a humble, simple, and generous man, and for the same reason I am going to miss him. To him Shalom Bible Seminary was his extended family. Every now and then vegetables, eggs, chickens from his farm would find their way to our dining table. Not only was the Seminary a beneficiary of his generosity, but his home was again another home-away-from-home for many other less privileged people coming from the interior parts of the state.
Dr. Satuo had his own sense of humour. I often remember this one because it concerns me. One day in our conversation he spoke to me in Angami and I responded that I was not able to follow everything he had said. With a playful smile in his eyes he said, “Rümatho, I’ll get you one Angami dictionary.” I was a bachelor then and so the implied meaning was that he was going to find me an Angami girl for my wife.
“I’ll look forward to reading your Angami dictionary very soon”, I quipped. Such is an example of the friendship and fellowship that we shared in our relationship as fellow christian.
People come and people go, but Dr. Satuo is one person whose memory will linger longer in the minds of many people whose lives have been touched by the example of his testimony. May the memories of Dr. Satuo inspire and motivate many others to become better human and may God offer peace and comfort to his grieving children and grandchildren.
