FOR MICHAEL JACKSON

Before I started loving boobs and pretty women,

A good number of my childhood fantasies revolved around the wonderful and creatively carved masterpieces of entertainment Michael Jackson was putting out right before me on the TV and radio sets.

MJ was one person I loved for many reasons. His voice, his dance moves and the huge achievements he was getting for his name in the course of his career.

There was never a time in my childhood I dared to skip a track from him no matter where I was rushing to. To every extent, I was and I'm still a fan of the King of Pop because his name alone used to be and is still a whole different form of entertainment.

I remember four year old me waking up and crying all night and pestering my parents to get me the type of shoe he wore to shoot his Billie Jean video. I mean that was how far the concept of him having every tile he stepped on illuminate. I wanted it so badly that my childhood reasoning didn't for once think it wasn't the shoe but the video production and I didn't stop until I got whipped.

Whenever I had control of the home entertainment set, I was either  watching cartoons or playing MJ and trying to mirror his moves and singing along at the same time and no matter how sad I was, the moment I heard or saw something from him be it a track, a snippet, a newspaper cutting, a video clip, an instrumental, just whatever, I was bound to get happy again.

I would talk MJ all the time, do my poor moonwalk and even try to act out the scenes from videos with my senior sister and yes, I  was gradually becoming a freak.

Actually, I was enjoying the MJ freak I was becoming until my dad took the African parenting step by cutting me off. Sad to tell, but a time came when I was banned from seeing MJ on TV and the only chance I had to hear from him was when his song was played on the radio. I had to watch with enough pain any heartbreak could cause as all his tapes and video CD we had of him sat comfortably in a carton on my dad's wardrobe and I didn't even have the power to touch them.

2008 and early 2009, the media was getting choked with news about my beloved MJ. This time, he wasn't having a mass airing of his song like he had for "Black and White" in 1995, he wasn't bombarding the world with another album, he wasn't winning eight Grammys in one night like he did in 1985, he wasn't having to appear in court for one of his numerous celebrity controversies, he wasn't doing the moonwalk at the Motown 25th anniversary performance, he wasn't recording a "we are the world" song with the other big names of the American music industry, he wasn't on another world tour that would get his hair on fire like it happened in the 1987 "Bad" tour in Japan, this time, he was fighting for his own life. 

I listened to every news story with fear and the agony of having your favorite celebrity in such a painful condition. It was either he was having to cancel a show due to health challenges or his doctor was telling the newsmen how bad his condition was getting.

The video clips of him appearing in public was nothing close to the same man that used to amaze the crowd on every stage. What I would see was a man that could barely even breathe having his security aids surround him and deep down, I wish they could protect him from what was coming.

I knew he wasn't going to get better but I couldn't even tell my self that. I never wanted to imagine a world without the King of Pop. It always felt like we were doomed if this legend went away.

25th of June 2009, I started hearing the rumors at school. A friend said he was dead, the other said he only fainted and the doctor was confused, another said that he died and resurrected after ten minutes. I bet you know how crazy these celebrity rumors get. Just so many things I never wanted to hear. 

The first thing I cared about at home was every from of the media I could find. Then the radio told me what I wanted to know but wasn't ready to hear. Michael Jackson, my beloved MJ, the King of Pop was gone. Damm!

"... American singer Michael Jackson died of acute propofol and benzodiazepine intoxication..."  was all the media could say.

It's been ten years already but his works are still making his name evergreen.

Gone but never forgotten. Rest in peace the King of Pop.

Michael Jackson

August 29 1958 - June 25 2009

© Ifiokobong Etuk

( KING of the QUILL