In this final tribute to my mom (Ama, as I called her), I can “confess” that I knew the end was near for my mom since December 2023, and I told the same immediately to my two sisters and to my wife. Of course, we all hoped that I was wrong, but my head and heart told me that I was right.
My mom was always very strong spiritually, and she lived her life in accordance with the written word in the Bible. It was the physical frailty and her total acceptance of it that made me realise that the inevitable call was near.
I decided therefore that I would visit my mom in Port Harcourt every month going forward without fail, and so I saw her in January, in February, and in March 2024. Each visit was like a last supper. Indeed, the very last “supper” we had together was on Friday, 8 March 2024, when I came visiting. In early April, I went to London and intended to come back home to visit her in mid-April.
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My phone failed to ring at 9 a.m. on Wednesday, 10 April 2024, and so I guessed my mom had passed on. I waited until it rang just after 10am, and it was my mom’s doctor on the line telling me what I “knew” already—that my mom had passed on. My mom was so reliable that I knew instinctively that if she was not on the telephone at 9 a.m., as promised, then it meant she had answered the call from her maker. She was not one for tardiness or lateness.
Since my mom passed on, the only emotion that I have entertained has been one of immense gratitude to God for granting mom’s three great wishes. These were:
1) Never having to bury a child, grandchild, or great-grandchild;
2) Lived to see her youngest grandson become an adult;
3) Never really being hospitalised—not even in her final month, week, or day.
One of my fondest memories of Mum includes the year 1965, when she decided to give me a “crash course” in maturity because she had adjudged that I could go off to King’s College Lagos as a boarder in January 1966 at the tender age of 10 years and 6 months and succeed, notwithstanding the fact that I would probably be the youngest boy in the entire secondary school.
The foundation for almost everything that I know today about core values, integrity, the dangers surrounding cutting corners and/or trying to be too clever by a half, loyalty, the rationale for following due process, etc. was laid by my mom. It was all bedded down by an anxious mother who had a burning desire to protect her only son, who was deemed too young (by many) to be allowed to leave Port Harcourt for a boarding house in “far away” Lagos.
Mum taught me several great lessons of life from a tender age. Some of my favourites were that:
1) Parenting never really stops, where there is genuine love and a shared vision;
2) Contentment is largely a choice. Mum coveted nothing and coveted no one’s position or status;
3) It is possible to love both your immediate family and wider family unconditionally;
4) It is possible to live without fear of any man or woman on earth—and so, those who really knew Mum understood that it was only her God and Maker that she feared. I still hear her voice booming in my ears from our 5-minute one-on-one telephone prayers, which took place at the same time of the morning every day over the course of the last three decades. One of her favourite quotes was from the Book of Isaiah: “FEAR NOT, for I have redeemed thee. I have called thee by my name; thou art mine.”
5) Another favourite quote was from the Book of Ecclesiastes: “To everything there is a season and a time to every purpose under heaven.” Mum believed there was a time to be born, a time to die, a time to plant, a time to harvest, etc. Her biography confirms that she knew when it was time to move on to something new or to the next phase of her life.
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When she turned 90 in 2014, Mom declared that the time for her to travel outside Rivers State was over and so she would no longer travel long distances. Yes, no more medical check-ups in London or even Lagos. Mum would not change her mind to consider even stepping into a private jet to convey her to Lagos. Mum had great conviction, and so I knew it was futile trying to argue with her on such matters.
Before Dad passed on in 2016, Mum had instructed me to take over several family responsibilities from him. Unknown to many in the wider family, my mom was more concerned about me supporting them financially than in asking for herself. She cautioned those living with her day-to-day not to tell me about any needs that they thought she had. She feared I would then “waste” resources seeking to meet those “frivolous” needs of hers instead of channelling the very same resources towards what I could do for the wider family, community, or nation.
Mum did not want to end up in the hospital, and I am glad that she got her wish. My last phone call with her was at 9 a.m. on 9 April. She answered the call from her Maker, from her Port Harcourt home, at 10 a.m. on 10 April 2024—exactly 6 months short of 10 October 2024, which would have been her 100th birthday.
I dare not weep today or on any other day because Mum won’t like it. She brought me up (her only son) to be strong and stand like a man at all times and to be afraid of no one. Mum always wanted me to behave like a leader—an influencer that would set the right example so that others can derive strength from my actions—and so I will continue to smile and give God the glory for the awesome life that my mom lived.
Goodbye, Ama—Until we meet again!
Atedo N A Peterside CON (Arusibidabo of Opobo Kingdom)
