After a weekend of strenuous village activities, including walking the circumference of my mother’s coastal town- Abonnema  barefeet, to honour the memory of my last grandparent in the traditional Kalabari way, we’ve all settled back to real life. To real hectic life. It’s dad’s birthday today, the TEDx I’ve been plotting for months tomorrow…and my birthday on Thursday -my deeply underwhelming birthday. Lol.

My grandmother after 88 thoroughly lived years, was laid to rest yesterday. With about a thousand people joining in jubilating her peaceful exit, it was a day of firsts (read first line about barefeet stroll) and certainly lasts (reread first line about barefeet stroll). It also crystallised for me another due celebration. My daddy’s birthday! This post is about celebration; celebrating my favourite man in the world (true story!)…and of course celebrating my granny’s good life. I was thinking today what it must mean for MY mother to lose HER mother. I tried to imagine myself at a much older age (Please God) laying my mother to rest.

Of course the initial thought is the myriad of memories good and bad shared with this woman that must come to a daughter’s mind at the death of her mother. But, I thought of something that appeared to me far more profound and infinitely sadder. The death of a parent is of particular significance, it is the loss of one person, and perhaps the only person, in the world who loves you totally, unconditionally, selflessly and absolutely without reserve, want or fear. And that’s what is most significant. Most people love us because they know us, or know our better sides, or for what we can give, or for who they are when they are with us…or for some reason.

A parent loves just because.

And that’s my dad. Sometimes my dad will be grumpy and tell me off, but many times underneath his growl I can hear fear. And I understand that if something were to happen to me, it would feel like a vital, necessary part of his soul was gone. When I get home from work, my dad wants to hear my war stories, it makes me smile to see his face, as expressive as mine, convolute into a variety of twists and bends as he follows my banal tales with rapt attention. “Then your manager said what?!” “…and you said to him?” Lol. No one else can even pretend to care so much about me.

So when we do have good parents, it’s important to not only celebrate and honour them, but also be kind to them…because if I learnt anything from my grandma’s funeral, it’s that we never have long enough with them.

Sometime last year, I found a card my daddy sent to me a few days after I began university. I started uni on my 19^th birthday. I was for some reason, thoroughly convinced that the London School of Economics had made a mistake in admitting me. Certain that they would soon come to realise their error and eject me from the haloed High Holborn hall, I told my father. A few days later, a card came in the post for me. It read:

To My Daughter Nkem, I love You

My day becomes wonderful

when I see your pretty face smiling so sweetly

There is such warmth and intelligence radiating from you

it seems that every day you grow smarter and more beautiful

And every day I am more proud of you

As you go through different stages of life

You should be aware that there will be many times

when you will feel scared and confused

But with your strength and values

you will always end up wiser

and you will have grown from your experiences

understanding more about people and life.

I have already gone through these stages

so if you need advice or someone to talk to

to make sense of it all

I hope that you will talk to me

as I am continually cheering for your happiness

my sweet daughter

and I love you.

Your Daddy

This is the sort of father I’m privileged to call (READ: screech) “Daddy!!!”

 PS: Anita’s baby photos are far cuter than mine…so that chubby baby, already being contrary in the second picture, is Anita.

P.P.S: So I found a picture of my mum’s oldest sister, and the first daughter in the family, at HER grandmother’s funeral. I’ve put it next to mine, the first daughter in my family, at MY grandma’s funeral! How cool and interesting that we still manage and maintain our beautiful culture, passing our rich history down one generation to another.

#NigerDeltaGirlsBeLike…I’mAQueenInAfricaTho!

P.P.P.S: Even with my light reflecting cheeks, trust that I was feeling myself like I lost my keys!