Adorable 25 year old Doyin Sarah Fagbenro who as of late finished her First and Second degrees in Law in the UK and moved to Nigeria subsequent to spending the greater part of her life there, kicked the bucket in a lethal mishap along Lekki-Epe freeway in Lagos which was brought on by a neglectful Danfo driver. Her cousin, Ken Davidson, took to his Facebook page to pay her a genuine tribute. It's such a tragic read. Perused after the cut. Might her spirit rest in peace, Amen. DSF: Tribute To A Shining Starlet. Goodness passing! Where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy triumph? Another Casualty of a broken and fizzled State. Your story is especially Gut Wrenching as it is similarly unfortunate. You spent sufficiently close everything except two of your 25 years on earth in the Country of your Birth, the United Kingdom where your Parents and whole family live. You were conceived, reared and taught in the United Kingdom. Be that as it may, two years back, quickly after you graduated, you chose to visit Nigeria where your Grandparents live – both of whom are in their Mid Eighties. You agreed to the National Youth Service having crisply graduated with a sterling First Degree in Law and a Post Grad promptly a short time later. You were headhunted by an Energy Firm before you finished your NYSC and a presto you chivalrously reported to your Nervous Parents – Dad a Diplomat with the United Nations situated in Italy and Mum a Pharmacist situated in the United Kingdom, your nation of Birth – that you were going to for all time move and make Nigeria your changeless habitation. Your Grandparents were happy, you being their most loved Grand Daughter. You were a straight An understudy right from when you went your GCSEs through to when you exceeded expectations in your A'levels…so much so that Prestigious Queen Mary's London University snapped you to study Law. You missed a First by whisker's. By and by you made your imprint completely through. At that point everything came smashing down. What should be a standard trip to Church on a generally serious, generally uneventful Sunday morning on the Lekki/Ajah Expressway around the Lekki Phase 1 approach transformed into a living and interminable bad dream for those of us cleared out attempting to get the pieces. Our lives changed always, never to be the same again. A casualty of the neglectful and presumably high on beverages/drugs "Danfo" Driver. The most rankling of the whole scene was the way that the driver of that Danfo survived unscathed, RAN far from the scene leaving a trail of Death and Destruction afterward. Four individuals passed on at the scene. Your New Toyota Corolla was a folded wreck. Yet, the Fighter that you were, in spite of monstrous wounds, you battled and battled and battled. Your Dad, by means of his status at the United Nations, got you into Lagoon Hospital where you were for a couple of days. When it turned out to be clear that the degree of your wounds was excessively extreme for the nearby offices here in Nigeria, An Air Ambulance was mixed from the United Kingdom to get you highly required Specialist Care in the United Kingdom. Your energetic mum who flew in from the United Kingdom, scarcely 48 hours after the mischance, went with you in the Air Ambulance. Still we Prayed and Prayed and Hoped generally advantageous. Tragically We lost you a day after you landed in the United Kingdom. The Surgeons attempted urgently. You battled frantically to hold tight. In any case, at last, it was not to be. The torment is obviously crude as it is numbling. We asked over and over, Why you? Why You? On the off chance that just you had remained focused the nation of your Birth, If only…so numerous inquiries yet not very many answers. Your Parents, Your Grandparents, Oh! Your Grandma, with whom you praised her 80th Birthday here in Nigeria a couple of years prior has declined to eat since she was educated of your passing about a week ago…All she over and over does is wail, wail to space "God Take Me rather, Give My Granddaughter back to Nigeria. Nigeria Needs Her, Her Parents Need her. God Take me. God Take Me.". These are for sure to a great degree dangerous times. Thus it was that having quite recently spent scarcely a couple of weeks in Nigeria after a drawn out Winter occasion and Christmas in the United Kingdom with family and companions, I now wind up in the fairly unenviable position of scrambling for the following flight out back to the United Kingdom just so I can go to your Funeral this weekend. Somebody answered to me "Goodness, you know, 'our convention' precludes more seasoned relatives going to and being available at funerals where the perished is much more youthful than us…" I snapped back, which custom? Furthermore, what has convention ever accomplished for us? What did Tradition ever provide for HER? I am here like a Zombie, mechanically and randomly pressing a couple of things for my flight out in the morning. The Family has chosen that yours future a Celebratory Sending Forth, so RED as opposed to the customary Gray, Black would be the shading to be worn on the Day. DSF as you were affectionately called, you touched such a large number of lives in the quarter century, (a quarter century just!) you ran your race on earth. You were circumspect to the end to such an extent that you held up until you got back home – closer your folks and numerous kin – before you at last bade the World Farewell. Doyin Sarah Fagbenro, My Learned Friend in the Profession, My lil Sister, My Cousin, Sleep Well till we meet once more. O Death! Where is Thy Sting!