MAMA JEMINETU OSABOMEH (NEE MALLAM IDI EKPOKI): A WOMAN OF EXTREME COURAGE AND COMPASSION!

Her Early Life

In the early years, even though her father, my maternal grandfather, the great Mallam Idris (Mana Idi) Ekpoki was one of the most learned men of his age in Arabic at our Community, Udochi and its environs and became famed for his mystic powers, sadly, the records of her birth like that of her immediate elder sister, Mrs Jule Ladi Da-Silva (Nee Idi Ekpoki) which I have since chronicled as ‘Mrs Jule Ladi Da-Silva (Nee Idi Ekpoki): A Mother of Compassionate Compassion!’ was not properly kept.

Honestly, as learned as he was in Arabic, Mallam Idi Ekpoki could not properly documented the dates and times of the births of most of his children or if he did, no one could locate this as time and change have combined to eclipsed it.

Sadly, too, the records available at the Community Primary School, Osesiameh Primary School (formerly Roman Catholic School at inception) and later St Patrick’s Primary School, where authentic records of this nature could be sourced, can no longer be relied upon as these were destroyed by termites in the recent past when one of her Headmasters, Catechist Anthony Osimi Asekhameh was transferred in a controversial manner, a touching story that would be told subsequently in one of my subsequent Chronicles.

However, what is not in doubt is the record from the letter written on Saturday, January 13, 1962 by the hands of her own father, Mallam (Mana) Idris ‘Idi’ Ekpoki, the date of her official marriage to her first husband, the late Mr Dominic Sule (DS) Osabomeh, observing all traditional and Islamic rites.

On this day and in the custody of her elder brother, late Mallam Zuberu Ozizi, Mama began her journey to Kaduna for her marriage to our late father, Mr Dominic Sule (DS) Osabomeh where her late father, our maternal grandfather, Mallam Idris (Idi) Ekpoki put to pen, the accounts leading to this marriage and this is one of the most treasured letters, a piece of beautiful history that was left in the archives of our late father as other similar documents, containing vital information were burnt to ashes on his death on Assumption Thursday, August 15, 1996.  

By the account of that letter, Mama would have been Nineteen (19) years old if her claims that she was born on Thursday, February 11, 1943 were to be correct and her late marriage because of her late brother, Mallam Zuberu Ozizi moving to Uneme-Unobu, a very small settlement when going to Uneme Ukpeko, a suburb part of Uneme Uzanu where she was made to take care of a nephew, the late Mallam Salihu Zuberu Ozizi with a fractured leg and subsequently the late Mr Abdulai Musa Ozizi.

This is simply the uncharted history of the birth of Mama because in those days, there were no birth certificates nor were births, especially those at the villages, registered in anywhere and the records of her enrolment into Primary Education, can no longer be sourced even though she progressed to Standard 5 in her educational pursuit, but what is not in doubt here, is that on Saturday, January 13, 1962, she was officially married to our father, Mr DS Osabomeh at age nineteen (19), observing all traditional and Islamic rites.

Therefore, this story about Mama, our mother, Mama Jeminetu Osabomeh (Nee Mallam Idi Ekpoki) is not designed to tell the whole story about her because these lines and pages cannot contain it, but it is our hope that it will sufficiently capture the best parts of her life that will continue to remind us of and even when she is gone, the beautiful moments and memories that we have and shared with her.

And this will continue to inspire us, not only as her children, but even generations yet unborn.

Married Life

Mama did not particularly enjoy her marriage and married life. Before the birth of her second child, Mrs Theresa ‘Baby’ Onomoane Asekhameh (Nee Osabomeh), her first child, a girl, died at infancy and before my own birth, her third child, a girl too, died too at infancy, but the most traumatic incidence for her, was the death of my little sister, Otini whose light was blown out before it lighted!

In the eighth (8) years of her marriage, her husband, Mr Dominic Sule Osabomeh was struck with a mysterious sickness, and this prompted our return to the village in 1971, precisely on Monday, September 13, 1971. This return was supposed to be a temporary one for our father to be able to find his feet again, but we never returned to him in Kaduna as his strange sickness continued to trouble him.

However, before we left Kaduna in 1971 for the village, Mama was already pregnant with her fifth child and in 1972, precisely on Monday, April 24, 1972, our little sister was born and she was rightly named ‘Lamosi’ (I ask God for mercy) by our father because of the strange circumstances that was facing him then with the strange sickness when Mama took her to see him in Kaduna. Again, according to Islamic day of the week and because of the area that we were living in Kaduna and Mama with her Islamic background, she was rightly named Litinin (Tini), which was later corrupted to ‘Otini’ by our people at home as she was born on a Monday.

It is said that a name, especially in Africa culture, is more than the identity of a person, as it gives hints about one’s family and the circumstances of one’s birth and as well as one’s future.

Here, the name ‘Lamosi’ (I ask God for mercy) expressed the desire of our late father, Mr DS Osabomeh and the situation that he was facing at that time as it seems as if only sorrow identified with him at any turning point.

Sadly, she died in May 1975 in mysterious circumstances. And as we grow older, the sad event of that day has continued to be so real to us.

However, prior to all these, Mama told us that seven (7) families; husband and wife were living with us at our Bida Road residence or so in  Kaduna, but when this particular Uncle of ours came with his wife and child, our father decided to secure an apartment for him and his young family and this was the beginning of the trouble for our father as this Uncle was not happy with that decision, stating that instead of our father to send one of the families that was already living with him to the new apartment and keep him and his family in his house as his own brother, he rented a separate apartment for him, even when this was not far from our own home.

So, one early morning, our father woke up to an unusual paper tied to his bedside, but when he untied it to read it which he could not as it was written in Arabic letterings, and for whatever reason, he burnt it before informing one of his Moslem friends who demanded to see the paper to be able to decode the wordings in Arabic that were written on the paper, but it was too late.

Sadly, our father was struck with a strange and mysterious illness afterwards, leading to his loss of job with the construction giant, Cappa & D'Alberto Plc.

Prior to this too, Mama told us that one evening, her husband, our father was returning from work when this same Uncle told him that she had not given him and his family any food since morning and without asking, our father slapped her and that was the only time in their eight (8) years of marriage and married life that he would raise his hands on her, but it was a devastating effect as this has greatly affected her hearing, especially in the later parts of her life, sadly.

In this, she advised me and advised me sufficiently that I should never raise my hands, no matter the provocation against any woman, especially my wife and this has continued to guide me in my marital life.

Strangely, Mama never said any ill word towards any of these families even when they abandoned us when we needed them the most and never bothered to ask after us even till this moment. In fact, she never told us any negative stories, even now and unfortunately, the records that I assumed or presumed that our father was keeping, were burnt into ashes at his death on Assumption Thursday, August 15, 1996, but I knew some of these stories from my personal observations and experiences, while growing up. However, during my plans to seek for accommodation, preparatory for my wedding in August 2001, my mother did advise me against securing a big accommodation, but looking back now, I wish that I had heed her simple advice because a big accommodation brought me large people and in this, big problems and perhaps, big experiences.

Looking back again with gratitude to God, I am happy that this happen because I have since come to the stark realization that it is not a big or large accommodation that accommodates people, but a big heart and in my dearly beloved wife, Mrs Racheal Osabomeh (Nee Enaruna), God blessed me with a beautiful woman with a big heart because it was simply because of her big and large heart that people, friends and relations came to us and I am grateful for her life of beauty, simplicity, kindness, goodness and compassion.

Second Marriage

During a four-year filled with hardship and loneliness, Mama remarried again.

I cannot recall when this really happened, but with faint childhood memories, I recall that following the sad death of our maternal Uncle, Mallam Zuberu Ozizi in October 1973 on whose custody we were on our return to the village as he was at that time, taking care of grandma Ínnẹ (Mama) Maimuma Ekpoki, late Chief Musa Ozizi Asekhameh, the Dania and Esi of Udochi and Otsekpakpa of South Uneme as the eldest surviving son at home, naturally took over the care and welfare of grandma and automatically, we came under his custody where a house was built for us by the fence of the primary school until grandma, Ínnẹ Maimuma died in October 1976.

I believe that it was about this period, a vulnerable and traumatic period that Mama entered her second marriage with late Mallam Momodu ‘Captain’ Asegameh because as a child, I noticed his sudden and continued presence at our house and later, we were living in the same house with him at the house of late Pa Usman Ogbuade.

Sadly, Mama never had another baby in her second marriage, nor have we heard of any other children by our father as he never really remarried following the strange illness that took everything from him.

In fact, our eyes are constantly on the road, watching and hoping that one day, someday, someone will come from nowhere, claiming to be a child of our father, but unfortunately for now, no family, apart from us, that bears the name of Osabomeh in Afenmailand.

Perhaps, we have never come across any to enable us to raise the inevitable question about their origin. In this, we keep hope alive!

To be fair to our mother, on the birth of her fifth and last child, she took her to Kaduna to see her beloved husband with the hope that with the arrival of the new baby, she could persuade him to come with her to the village, but at that time, our father’s condition and perhaps, situation was getting worst, but not worse enough for him to name his fifth and last child, Lamosi (God please show me mercy). He however refused to return to the village with his wife and on her return and after some few years and without seeing her beloved husband, Mama entered her second marriage with late Mallam Mohammed Asegameh alias Captain, but never had another child. And father too was never known to have entered another marriage or remarried again, so he lived and led a solitary, lonely and loveless life until his death on Assumption Thursday, August 15, 1996.

Sadly, a life that started so well for him, was lived so badly because of his kindness and goodness and so, ended so badly.

My Mother Is A Super Woman!

Agriculture: crop and fish farming, is the way of life of our people of Udochi and I grew up as a child of the farm because to fend for us, Mama took to farming of potatoes in the fertile land of ‘ala’ and ‘Isoro’ of Sabongida and cassava, having farmlands as far as Ukpeko Nikere (small hamlet). She even ventured into yam farming for some time, but because of the sheer energy exerted in this type of farming, making it almost an exclusive farming activity for men, she dropped out of it while the only farming activity that she did not partook in, directly, was the rice farming. At a time, she was renowned to be one of the best Sowers and Producers of potatoes at our Community, Udochi.

In fact, she was so productive in this act of potatoes farming that I recall that at the next planting season, potatoes would have grown under our sleeping beds. Mama was that productive in her potatoes farming, however, this was not the only farm produce that she was productive in as her cassava farms, were amongst the best in the community at a time.

As a matter of fact, we used to have cassava farms that were up to four (4) years old inside the soil until the strange flooding from the Rivers of Niger and Benue that have continued to visit our dear Community, Udochi since September 2012, wrecking serious damages to our farm land and produce and ultimately, to our commonwealth, plunging the Community into a state of hunger before the next planting season and harvesting.

Honestly, our mother was our provider and protector, two roles that she combined so well and played so admirably as she worked to provide everything for me and my elder sister and protected us from doing what girls and boys of our ages were doing.

Perhaps, this explains why I am lazy at farming because as the only surviving male child of her marriage and married life, she never exposed me to any unnecessary risks of farming and fishing. In fact, my elder sister’s case was worse as Mama looked after her like an egg as the only farming activities that she would allow us to participate in, was to carry home farm produce of potatoes and cassava, after harvesting.

So, it is a great irony today that my elder sister, Mrs Theresa Onomoane ‘Baby’ Asekhameh (Nee Osabomeh) could marry and live at the village, comfortably, becoming a good farmer and a successful businesswoman, trading in the difficult business of fish selling like her late paternal grandmother Mama Imiegomeh Etu (Nee Ikhagu).

Truly, our mother taught us great virtues. For instance, she abhors dishonesty and lies and so, encouraged and taught us to always be honest and be truthful no matter what. She taught us never to take whatever we were not given or eat food that we were never served even if we meet the food in her room. This trait almost caused a great trouble between me and my wife in the early days of our marriage as she thought that I was proud for not asking for food or eat whatever food is at home whenever I am hungry if she is not around.

In one of the rare and few occasions that I sneaked out with the boys to throw fishing hooks at ‘Unedor ABC’ (River ABC), I caught a big fish, but Mama demanded to know the source and actually went to confirm from the boys that we went together if I was the one that truly caught the fish or took it or better still, stole it from another man’s net or hook.

Those were the good old days of sound moral traits and teachings, but fortunately enough, Mama is still with this sterling virtue even at the present as she would always ask me, whenever I am home of where I got the money that I sent to her, having recounted to me how much I sent to her, date and through which source.

Mama truly provided everything for us. We were not rich nor were we comfortable or poor, but we did not or never lack anything that our mother could provide, and she provided, dutifully. She was a man in a woman, and we will forever be proud of her.

All through our growing up, we shared a one room apartment with our mother, sleeping almost on the same bed with her and this made us feel secure as it made us feel closer to her, a blessing that we would not have had in other circumstances.

I recall, with extreme gratitude, when in 1997 I was writing my final project and I needed about N6,000.00 (Six Thousand Naira) and I went home to meet Mama and my elder sister, but even though she did not have this amount of money, she went to borrow N2,000.00 (Two Thousand Naira) each from three (3) different Women Meetings at the Community that she was a member of at that time, just to ensure that I did not lack anything at school, especially in my final year.

As a parent now, I cannot, but be grateful for the deep sacrifices that our mother made for us. she gave up so many things for our sake.

Without giving in to the greed of that time that my daughter must marry into the city, Mama allowed her only daughter to marry into the village and this was one of the wisest decisions that she could ever make because without this singular decision, perhaps, our mother would not be alive today as her daughter, Mrs Theresa Onomoane Asekhameh (Nee Osabomeh) has continued to take good care of her. This is why one of her granddaughters, Miss Angela Ositeseimeh Asekhameh recently remarked ‘Grandma had foresight to have allowed my mother to have married at the village at the time that she did instead of going for secondary education, otherwise she would have suffered as none would have been available to take any care of her.’

Sadly, and with my recent struggles, resulting from my recent experiences, I am not able to take a good and proper care of her as I would have desired because of the great sacrifices that she made for me and my elder sister. I am however very grateful to friends and associates, who, without any responsibility on their part, have continued to be kind to me in their generosity and through this, I have been able to continue to contribute to the welfare and care of my mother.

Sincerely, Mama never held any bitterness against anyone, and she never told us any. If anything, she strides through her life with great determination and dedication whilst making everyone that ever encountered her to feel as the most important person in the room. In fact, she encouraged us to visit our father’s family regularly because, according to her, ‘that is where our roots are,’ but more than this, she encouraged us to practice the religion and faith of our father by being good Catholics even while she returned to the practice of her own faith, the Islamic Faith and when her first husband, our father, Mr Dominic Sule Osabomeh died on Assumption Thursday, August 15, 1996, she, according to the customs and culture of our South Uneme people, mourned our late father for three (3) months and we can never forget such a charitable act of compassion for a husband and marriage that she left in the early 70s in strange circumstances and never fully enjoyed it.

This act, this charitable act of compassion for our late father, more than anything else that Mama has ever done for us, will continue to resonate with me and my elder sister even till death and in it, we owe our most courageous and compassionate mother, a debt of gratitude because no woman or wife would have mourned our late father.

Mama Is A Brave Woman!

In the harvesting season of 1979, Mama had a snake bite. On that day, she recalled that she was the only one at her farm and she was rounding off to go home when suddenly a growing weed between two healthy sticks of cassava caught her attention and hardly had she held it with her left hand to cut it with her sharp cutlass that she felt a sharp bite at the middle of her fourth finger and instinctively, she knew that it was a snake bite and quickly reacted by looking for it to kill it which she did, tied up her left hand at the wrist to prevent the venom of the snake circulating into her blood system and went in search of first aid at the residence of a renowned herbalist, ‘Ademu na Ibie’ (Ademu of Ibie) at ‘Ukpeko nikere’ (small hamlet) before she was eventually taken home.

The snake is one of Africa’s most deadly snakes, the venomous Puff Adder or ‘Obohtor’ as called by our people, the deadly and dangerous short snake that rarely bites except when its short tail is touched, and it is fabled that its victim could die within seven (7) days of its bite if it were not killed.

And this was the poisonous snake that bite Mama on that fateful day and with this, there was a huge challenge, the challenge was that in the Uneme folklore, a person bitten by a snake must not walk on water nor allowed to vomit to the ground as this could lead to his or her untimely death within minutes and at this time of the year, the waters of River Niger and Benue were already overflowing its bank, spreading across some stream pathways on the way to the village and with this challenge, about three hefty men of Ademu volunteered to carry Mama home so that her legs will not touch any water, but on arrival home, a bigger challenge began for her, her left hand had completely swollen, and it was so swollen that it was bigger than the thigh of an adult female, hence she needed all possible and urgent attention.

Unfortunately and as if nature was conspiring against her, all the known traditional medicine men at the village, particularly her first cousin, the great late Mallam Mohammed Ibrahim ‘Baba Maji’ Ekpoki, a man of great Islamic knowledge and mystic powers, were out of the village and for weeks, Mama carried a hand that could not be lifted up by anyone, yet all the other traditional medicine men that were brought, claimed that they have been able to extract all the teeth of the snake from her hand, yet her left hand remained swollen.

In this state, we hoped and prayed for the return of her cousin, Mallam Mohammed Ibrahim ‘Baba Maji’ Ekpoki who had travelled to a far land, and it was the era without easy access to telephone, but while we were waiting, something near a mystery happened.

That time was the political era of the 1979 General Elections and my stepfather, Mallam Mohammed Asegameh (alias Captain) was the Ward or Party Chairman, Great Nigeria People’s Party (GNPP). In this role, we constantly received visitors from near and wide and it was in this instance that one particular politician came from the far land of Esan Land (Agbazilo Local Government Area as it was then called) with his retinue of aids and as soon as one of his aids saw Mama’s swollen hand, he claimed that he has the medicine for it and requested that we provided some materials, particularly, red oil and after mixing these items together with some incantations, he applied them on our mother’s hand and instantly, the entire hand was laced with white tiny teeth that the man claimed to be the teeth of the snake that bite Mama and for almost the whole day, the man was busy removing this whitish tiny things from the hand of our mother and as he was becoming exasperated at the process because the more he removed, the more it appeared and as if by another natural design, our Uncle, the great Mallam Mohammed Ibrahim ‘Baba Maji’ Ekpoki returned to the village at about this time and as soon as he was told of the distress of his beloved sister, he came straight to our home at the home of Pa Usman Ogbuade and seeing the hand of his beloved sister robbed entirely with red oil, he was livid with anger and demanded that the red oil with its substance be washed off immediately and hardly had this been done that he performed a very simple task by cutting the spot of the snake bite on Mama’s hand, apply a little liquid and asked her to go and sleep and the rest, as they say, is history because Mama’s hand instantly reduced to its usual and natural state and size when she woke up from her recommended sleep.

It was a miracle, performed by the ever-merciful Allah through the mystic powers that He has divinely bestowed on His son, Mallam Mohammed Ibrahim ‘Baba Maji’ Ekpoki. Theirs is a lineage of mystic people, men and women of great strength and courage, valour, and discerning minds. My maternal grandfather, Mallam Idi Ekpoki was renowned to possess great mystic powers. He was one of the most learned men of his age in Arabic and became famed for his mystic powers. He was said to have mystic powers over the forces of evil especially of witchcraft as it was reported that he could go after them at the dead of the night, bringing them to their knees in total nakedness and snakes were said to cut into two whenever they cross his path.

However, as little as we were, it was an unforgettable moment and experience for me and my elder sister, Mrs Theresa Onomoane Asekhameh (Nee Osabomeh) as we thought that our mother would die because for several days and weeks, running into months, Mama could not lift her left hand nor was she able to do anything with it. It was such a most horrifying experience for us, but for God’s abiding mercy.

Sadly, some persons, claiming to have ‘invisible’ eyes, later alluded that her misfortune, a misfortune that almost caused her, her life, was caused by one of her co-wives, but Mama never took this ‘revelation’ in her strides, but continued to live her life with everyone, perfectly as she could.

In this, she became for us, a living example of the difficult virtue of forgiveness.

Mother Was Steadfast In Her Second Marriage

And she remained very steadfast. She stayed in her second marriage, giving all the best that she could. And she was diligent at it by following through with it, but sadly, circumstances happened and in 1987, a circumstance that turned back, once again, the sad hands of the clock on the wall for her in her married life.

The Year 1987 was not a particularly good year for our mother as this year marked the beginning of the collapse of her second marriage. Without any child in the marriage and perhaps, having endured a lot, giving her best to the marriage, it was inevitable that her marriage with late Mallam Mohammed Asegameh (alias Captain) was, naturally heading for the rocks. However, there were other extraneous reasons.

In that year, 1987, my step father, Mallam Asegameh, after a long absence from farming (he was a renowned Tailor and cloth merchant), decided to cultivate a rice farm and I had just completed my secondary school education at Army Day Secondary School, Agenebode (ADSSA) and as I was awaiting the release of the May/June WAEC results which I was very hopeful that I would do well, I desired to return to my Aunty, late Mrs Christy Kashekule Afeleokhai (Nee Salufu) in Benin City where I had visited in August 1986 during the long vocation with relish, but Mama thought otherwise because of some genuine reasons and so encouraged me to participate fully in the rice farm and this was one of the only rare occasions that she would encourage me to participate fully in any farming activity.

So, I stayed.

Normally, a hut (Okholo) that would provide shelter for the farmers is built immediately a rice farm is considered or conceived, however, for several months and for whatever reasons, we did not build any until very late during the yields of the rice, making us to come from home very early in the morning and returning home very late in the evening on daily basis. On one such instance, we (me and my stepfather) had left the house when we heard the first crow of the cock only for us to realize, halfway through our journey that the cock may had deceived us by crowing too early and for the rest of the night, bush mosquitoes had a field day on our precious blood. Yet, there was another instance that I woke up very late with my mother when my stepfather was on a short visit to Agenebode to see his last wife and I have to run the entire distance to the farm, ahead of my mother, but before I could get there, half of the farm was almost sucked out of its fresh liquids by the stubborn weaver birds and on his return, my stepfather was livid and in a no hold back mood, accused Mama of negligence and irresponsibility and I saw our mother totally broken for the very first time because she truly gave her best to the marriage and the rice farm, but to be accused so badly, was heavy on her and I believe that this was the beginning of the first real crack in the second marriage of our mother because for the rest days and weeks at the rice farm, there were obvious gaps, where Mama was just going through the motions, sadly.

And I felt pity for her, but sadly, I could not do anything to help her, in any way. So, we endured our presence at the rice farm until the harvest was over.

So, one day on an Agenebode Market Day, I had gone to the farm as I was not sleeping with them at the farm, but at home, to inform Mama that I was going to Agenebode market to sell the snails that I have gathered so that I could buy a travelling bag, ‘Carton’ that was in vogue then in preparation for my visit to Benin as soon as the harvesting period was over, but as I was leaving, Mama decided to escort me while giving me some instructions on how to sell the snails and some messages for my elder sister, but on my way after I had left her, I stopped to cut off a branch of a tree that was causing an obstacle on our pathway and it was in this process that my stepfather met me and commended my efforts. However, I never knew that he had trailed us, me and Mama, thinking that she had ‘stolen’ his rice that she wanted to give to me, hence, she escorted me and even though that he did not find anything with or on me, on his return to the farm, he accused Mama of stealing his rice and this very unfortunate accusation led to a heated quarrel between them and it was only by God’s grace that something terrible did not happened because the next farmer to us, the late Pa Momoh Ikhaluobomeh, was a distance away.

This, sadly, was the biggest crack in the second marriage of Mama because she was accused wrongly of stealing from a rice farm that she practically owns where she gave everything for its success, every day.

Unfortunately, when the harvesting season was over and nothing was given to me or her from the rice farm that we had tended from the beginning to the end, the family was called upon to intervene in the rift between Mama and my stepfather and on the night of the settlement, Mama felt bad that I did not testified in her favour because truly, I never knew that my stepfather had trailed us on that fateful day, but only Mama did and after the night of judgment and with no peaceful resolution, Mama’s second marriage was over and with tears in her eyes, she left the marriage that she practically gave everything for and she left the home that she has given everything to build without any reward, but thankfully, there was a room reserved for her mother, the late Ínnẹ, Mama Maimuna Ekpoki at the family house at Federal where we packed our belongings and moved into in Year 1988.

While I would always love to recall only the beautiful memories of my stepfather, that incidence is one that I can never forget in a hurry because we went with him to a rice farm fully and completely, yet we laboured in vain!

And Mama never remarried again because marriage has not been particularly good for her.

Truly, like her first marriage to my father, Mama gave her very best for the success of her second marriage to late Mallam Mohammed Asegameh (alias Captain) and it is sad that she never took away any gift from it that will continue to remind her for the rest of her life of the true labour of her heart.

Sincerely, as a young boy, I recall with nostalgic feelings, the presence of many people of different walks of life at our home. My stepfather was a very popular man. He was a leader of boys and girls, men, and women. He was a man of courage and valour and through these, he enjoyed all the privileges of the Community.

As a Tailor cum Politician, there were always people at our home and in dutiful responsibility, Mama would always cooked to cater for them, to their delight and the high point of this was during the 1979 General Elections where my stepfather was the Ward or Party Chairman, Great Nigeria People’s Party (GNPP), yet Mama never took anything away from this marriage where she gave all her best, her all.

Sadly, our mother was unlucky with love and marriage on two occasions!

The Man In Our Mother

Our mother was a man. Mama was like a man; she was a father! There was no type of farm that she did not cultivate or practiced, even the yam farming that is exclusively reserved for men, except for the tedious work of a rice faming.

One needs to hear her feet on the ground when she walks. She was a man in her younger and early years and ages.

With Mama’s presence, I always lost my fears because she was the man in my life and my elder sister’s, in our lives, me and my elder sister. She was courageous and brave, but something strange happened to her, yet again in Year 1990 that almost took away the courage of her life.

At the 1990 Christmas celebrations, her elder sister, Mrs Jule Ladi Da-Silva (Nee Idi Ekpoki) was home, Udochi and I had a discussion with her that I shall be coming to Lagos to stay with her, but she humbly asked me to stay back until she gets to Lagos to discuss the issue with Daddy, late Pa Adekunle Jerome Da-Silva.

However, certain events happened that drastically altered this arrangement.

On Saturday, December 28, 1990, Mama Abule as we fondly call her, left the village for Lagos, after spending some days in the village for the Christmas celebrations, but after she returned from escorting her immediate elder sister to the motor park, Mama surprisingly went straight to the kitchen and took one of the firewood that she was already cooking the early morning food with and decided to split it, but with the very first hit of the axe, the firewood flew straight and hit her right eye, causing a deep cut and after several days of battle to save her eye, in the company of my elder sister, Mrs Theresa Onomoane Asekhameh (Nee Osabomeh), we took her to Agenebode to the home of late High Chief (Double) Patrick Ithenuaye Anwokhai (may God continue to bless his gentle soul for he was a good man) on Tuesday, January 01, 1991 and after several weeks without any noticeable improvement, we were surprised one day when an unknown woman approached us that her eye cannot be healed with Western medication, but rather we should take her to one elderly man at Iviegbepiu (the land of the hundred mango trees), who she believed will be the only source of healing for our mother as the injury was spiritually orchestrated.

Unwillingly, my in law, Catechist Anthony Osimi Asekhameh because of his strong Christian belief of the Catholic Faith and because there is an extent that he could go as a son-in-law not to say no, asked me to accompany Mama to Iviegbepiu on one Agenebode market day and I did, but I returned to Agenebode immediately even before his arrival as he had promised.

I simply ran away from Iviegbepiu more in awe than in fear because the Baba that we went to see, almost told us everything even though we never told him anything or said anything to him nor did he ask us anything.

Sincerely, we are intrigued by mysteries and on that fateful day, I was intrigued by more mysteries even though I grew up under the tutelage of the great one, the amazing and legendary Chief (Alhaji) Aliyu ‘Olaika’ Ekpoki, a man of mystic powers.

Sad as this experience was, there are moments in one’s life that are not worth remembering for what they represent, but then again, recalling them makes one realize the journey of one’s life and it is in this that one come to the inevitable conclusion of how gracious God has been to one.

The Baba, now of blessed memory, was able, with the grace of God, to heal Mama’s eye within days without collecting or demanding anything from her. He just applied ashes from the cooking place that was constantly burning with red and hot charcoal (like the fireplace of a local blacksmith) on Mama’s eye, and he never applied any other thing to it again.

God simply used that Baba (I cannot now recall his name) to heal Mama and restore her eye without collecting anything from us and we will forever be grateful to him and his family and this was one of the reasons why, when Mr Mark Ogunobo came for the hands of marriage of one of her granddaughters, Mrs Beatrice Imhagbaode Mark Ogunobo (Nee Asekhameh) in Year 2017, he faced no resistance because the people and land of Iviegbepiu (the land of the hundred mango trees) were very good to us in Year 1990.

A Compassionate Woman And A Diligent Mother!

Mama was and is still selfless in her giving. She is tender and lovely, poor in material things and goods, but rich in love. In this, she felt the heartbeat of all that was around her.

She is a magnificent mother beyond comparison. Thank you for your unconditional love, endless patience and incredible guidance. Thank you for your sterling wisdom and courage.

I recall how we used to walk to farm joyfully even though the distance were huge and each time that she stuck her hoe into the ground or soil and turned a little earth, she would breathe heavily, yet she would continue in her farming activities, arduous as it was. Occasionally, she would just spat on her palms like an agile and able goalkeeper and recommenced tilling again and digging beds for planting potatoes or cassava or yam. The next day, we would return to sow seeds of yams or leaves of potatoes or stems of cassava on the beds that had been dug the day before. While this exercise was always a happy moment, but it was also a very stressful one, yet our Mama did it with joy to provide for us and with decades of experience, she always knew where or how to find food for us.

In plain truth, our mother possesses all the qualities of a good mother, enduring, long suffering, kind and compassionate, loving, and generous. And courageous like a man. Even before emotional intelligence was given a definition by the Western people, she taught us to always be circumspect of what we say, especially in the public because words, once said, are powerful.

She is a very accommodating mother, an incredible role model, prudent in everything, especially in finances and material things, yet she was forced to adapt to conditions of poverty and hard work as she mastered the art of farming, potatoes and cassava farming early in her life. In this, she was never given into wastages, accounting for everything and all things. Simply put, our mother is an exceptional woman!

And it is as if she has a special grace for kindness and generosity. It is as if it is only good that resides in her heart because she believes that kindness is a universal language, and every man and woman must live by this.

Mother As A Disciplinarian

When Mama was younger, one cannot run faster than her! Simply put, do not run when you have erred, otherwise, she would pursue you, even to the end of the world. She is fast and quick on her feet and with the benefit of hindsight now, she was a wasted talent for the Nigerian Nation in sporting activities.

As the only male child of her two (2) marriages, Mama did not spare me from her disciplinarian traits.

In those days, the sight of a cane sounds louder and clearer than an actual waving of it. And with this veritable tool, Mama disciplined me with it, discipline in love because she believed, even though I am an only son, that ‘discipline is not punishment’ and the ‘cane or rod is only symbolic in the discipline of the child’ as part of human growth and development.

In Year 1987, I recall that after I had gathered enough snails from the thick bushes of our noble Community, Udochi which I sold at the ever rewarding Agenebode market, I bought a single trouser, the one that we used to call ‘wash and wear’ as one does not need an iron or have a luxury of an iron for it, but just wash and wear it for the sum of N20.00 (Twenty Naira), but Mama was very livid with anger for my audacity to buy a single trouser for the sum of N20.00 (Twenty Naira) which was a very big money then.

In fact, she beats the hell out of me, even when I was already a full man, grown with growing bears. Anyway, I so much liked that trouser which was blue in colour, and I used it for many years to compensate for my beating for buying it with a large sum of money!

Truly, Mama instilled in me and my elder sister the virtues of integrity, honesty and the ethos of dignity of her family, the great Ekpoki family ‘which must be maintained at all costs.’

Sincerely, I have great memories of my childhood and growing up at our modest Community, Udochi which is a perfect place to raise children because it is around the beauty of creation, nestling beautifully in the heart of the rain forest of Afenmailand, serene and peaceful, but more than these, every child was the child of every family because everyone knew everyone, every family. Our families were simply the same.

A Faithful Woman!

By all standard, Mama is full of love for God (Allah) and charitable towards her neighbours. She is deeply religious of the Moslem extraction, and she never ever fears anything. She always makes time for prayers where her praying mat, is her sanctuary. Our mother is one woman or person that can give anything for love and in love, not reluctantly or under any compulsion, but willingly, loving her neighbours. She never sowed sparingly in love because she always believes that whatever one sows, one reaps.

She fortified her efforts of love by giving, giving fully and sincerely without ever counting the cost. And she values the relationship of her family members and fortunately for her, the Ekpoki family is a well-knit family, providing this enviable platform for her.

I recall how, at every festival period, particularly the Christmas period, Mama’s room was always totally full of and filled with all our relations, men and women that came from the cities. In joy, we would always go to the cassava farm to harvest cassava to make garri for them.

As I write this inadequate piece, I can recall this beautiful memory very vividly and all its nostalgic effects. The festival periods were really a time that I always looked forward to, because with it, comes a retinue of relations to our house from all over the cities where Mama played the significant role of a good host and mother and in this, people slept wherever they could find space and they never thought of this as a discomfort.

Sincerely, I resemble my mother in everything, but one, her generosity. She is always making sacrifices, treating people, relations, and strangers alike with compassion. While growing up, I had thought that our mother does not eat because she would always share out her food, every bit of it to everyone at our house, especially in the evenings as our house was always full of people, relations; nieces, nephews; uncles, aunties; etc at every time.

She is simply a mother to all!

Honestly, many virtues stand out for Mama, but two are boldly visible; she is a very kind woman, and she does not begrudge anyone, even when she is offended, yet she forgives, very easily and calmly.

She is always patient in her generosity, especially with a difficult person and abhors dishonesty as honesty and truth are her forte. In many circumstances, she taught us and showed us heroic ways of doing things sincerely and honestly.

Certainly, we all know what it is like to sacrifice and suffer for the benefit of another person, but not everyone, except parents who constantly do this for the sake of their children. Yet, Mama did this all through her agile life for her relations, but with betrayals, yet like King David in 1 Samuel 24:3-21, she forgives so easily and calmly.

Neatness Is Her Virtue

Neatness is one of the strongest virtues of our mother as I have never seen any woman or mother as neat as her.

As a Moslem, her praying spot in her room and even when she visited us, is a no-go area for anyone no matter how loved you are. It is her sanctuary and must always be kept neat.

And even before we were able to provide her room with the artistic beauty of carpet or rugs and subsequently, ceramic tiles, no one is allowed to wear shoes, especially bathroom slippers into her room which is constantly looked after and swept as if it is the lovely body of a female that must be adorned every moment of the day. This is one place that she does not compromise or cover with love, but if by chance a visitor enters her room with his or her shoes, hardly would the visitor had left that she would take her broom to tidy up her room. And no matter how one is in a hurry, one must go through the process of cleansing an already washed plate before using it to serve.

Mama dares do not catch you betraying this process! She was that faithful to it, even now that she can hardly do anything for herself.

Gratefully, these were some of the beautiful traits that she taught and imbibed in my wife, Mrs Racheal Osabomeh (Nee Enaruna). In her love for her and total acceptance of her as her daughter-in-law, she taught her, like her elder sister, Mrs Jule Ladi Da-Silva (Nee Idi Ekpoki), many of our traditional recipe, ensuring that she mastered this delicate act perfectly.

Proudly, there is none of our traditional soups or food that my wife cannot cook because of the painstaking efforts of her mothers-in-law, Mrs Da-Silva and Mama Jeminetu.

Sadly, with the rigours and vagaries of life leading and giving birth to a weak body and voice, Mama now struggles, with a truly weak and feeble voice, to prevent people from walking into her room with their shoes on.

Truly, it is not good to know someone at old age or during ill health!

Our Mother Knew Pain

It is said that as we live our lives on earth, there are certain realities as humans that we must have to contend with, one of them is the reality of loss.

So, besides the death of three out of her five children, our mother experienced other setbacks and knew pains that could easily have taken the life of another.

When in September 2012, the waters of Rivers Niger and Benue decided to overrun its bank, it visited our peaceful Community, Udochi with ferocious anger, sacking us from our ancestral home. Our people took shelter in different parts of Edo State, but particularly at Fugar, the headquarters of Etsako Central Local Government Area.

Here, the then Governor, Comrade Adams Aliyu Oshiomhole did all he could to ameliorate the sufferings of our people, particularly providing free medical check-ups and treatment for us, especially the elderly.

It was with this generous window of the Comrade Governor that two of her late elder brother’s daughters took advantage of, but in a calculated devilish manner to shame us by taking her to one of the hospitals at Fugar for an appendicectomy or appendectomy surgery on her on Wednesday, September 26, 2012 without informing my elder sister nor myself even though we were at Fugar as I had arrived since Monday, September 24, 2012.

This surgery was done on our mother with no relations in attendance to attend to her and for five (5) days, Mama could not wake up from this unfortunate surgery and it took a heated argument between me and the Medical Director when there was a shortage of blood in her for him to realize that he was in a deep mess as he could not readily account for who gave the final approval for the surgery.

Thankfully, it took the divine grace of God to bring Mama back to life and she has lived for another twelve (12) years and continue to live, however this surgery has greatly impacted her life and health since then.  

My Main Regrets

In the life of our mother, I have two main regrets.

Firstly, I failed to take her to Mecca for the Hajj pilgrimage in fulfilment of one of the five pillars of Islamic Injunctions that ‘every Muslim whose health and finances permit it must make at least one visit to the holy city of Mecca, in present-day Saudi Arabia when I had the means and opportunity while in Oceanic Bank International Plc.

Secondly, I failed to persist to provide her with hearing aids after the first one in 2002 even when she refused to use it and in this, she has continued to live with this challenge and shame of not hearing properly and communicating effectively.

This always brings tears to my eyes whenever I cannot properly communicate with our mother, not only on telephone, but physically.

However, with the benefit of hindsight, these two failures will hurt and hunt me for the rest of my life.

Our Gratitude

On Monday, December 25, 2000, our courageous and compassionate mother joined the ‘League of Osobia’ when she performed the highly revered Traditional Women Cooking Title (Ikpigho-Idumhi) ceremony of the South Uneme people.

Certainly, that was the proudest moment of our lives as me and my elder sister could accompany our mother on this noble journey to accomplish this worthy ceremony even though it can never be adequate to sincerely thank her or compensate her for all that she did for us.

In truth, our courageous and compassionate mother is the most reliable, responsible, and dependable person in our lives. And she showed us more heroic ways as she strived to cater for us, and we would forever be grateful, grateful to a mother who gave all for us.

Thankfully too, with the birth of her great granddaughter, the beautiful and adorable Miss Bridget Mark Ogunobo by her granddaughter, Mrs Beatrice Imhagbaode Mark Ogunobo (Nee Asekhameh) on Wednesday, July 28, 2021, it pleased Allah to allow Mama to witness her fourth generation. This is a great privilege, and it is our belief that this is a great milestone that Allah has used to compensate and bless her for the great sacrifices that she made, especially for her two (2) marriages.

Our courageous and compassionate mother, as you celebrate your eighty-one (81) years birthday on this day, Sunday, February 11, 2024, your enduring legacy of uprightness, love for all, peace, mutual understanding, motherly care, affection will live forever.

Thank you for being a loving mother, a kind-hearted woman, honest and truthful.

Here is to your good health of mind and body. Here is to you, a healthier life in your later days on earth. Here is to you peace of mind and tranquillity. Here is to you, Allah’s merciful love for you to continue to bless you with good health.

As my big sister in writing, Mrs Eugenia Abu wrote on her Opinion Column in Business Day on Friday, January 19, 2024 while eulogizing the life and time of her late uncle, Mr Eddy Amana in ‘A Special Uncle and Consummate Gentleman: The Exit of Engr Eddy Amana,’ ‘it has been tough, but we know where our loved ones who were kind and generous go.’

It is our prayers that when it is time for your Creator to call you home to Himself, that He will grant you Jannatul Firdaus because you lived well, you were kind and generous to all. You were a courageous and compassionate mother.

And as you have humbly and nobly requested on Thursday, December 28, 2023 which I have since chronicled as ‘The Positive Prayers of a Mother!’ on the Feast of the Holy Family on Sunday, December 31, 2023, we pray that Allah will hear your noble request and bless us, your children, grandchildren and great grandchildren, our friends and associates with the courage and means to bury you properly whenever it pleases your Creator, Allah to call you home to Himself.

Thank you for raising us in love and sacrifices. Thank you for believing in us when others do not. Thank you for your unwavering support and love for us.

Happy eighty-one (81) years birthday to you, our dearest great grandmother, Mama Jeminetu Osabomeh (Nee Mallam Idi Ekpoki), a woman of extreme courage and compassion!

We love you, our dearest great grand Ma!

Na we

Your children:

Onomoane and Oshioke

Grand children

And great grand children

Sunday, February 11, 2024