My Father in law,the sad news of your death came to me as a great shock. I could not believe it but after sometime, it dawned on me that the news was true. I acknowledge the battle and struggle through the valley of the shadow of death. But you had to let go because you understood and believed that when the good Lord calls...... all we His children can do is just to comply. I do believe that everything happens for a reason. Lord God giveth life and so shall he take back.
When your daughter introduced me to you at the Genesis of our relationship,you received and accepted me as your Son. There on, I knew I have found a Father. And just barely one year after our marriage you are gone.
I will forever miss You  my Father. But I am consoled by the assurance that you are resting in the bossom of the Lord with no pain. I want to asure you that your children and family you left behind are in Good hands covered with the blood of Jesus. R.I.P.
Your son-in-law,
Tara Odi .

Dear Pa Ngale,

It's me Brinsley Ekinde Ekinde your nephew, my heart was broken when I first heard about your demise. Broken for 3 reasons: 1. Because my only uncle, the only one my father had left as his Brother is gone forever, 2. Because I never had the opportunity to enjoy the God-given Uncle-Nephew relationship with you like I should have because of our imperfect human ways, and 3. Because the 1st letter I have ever written to you as my uncle is coming only now when you can no longer respond to me. It pains me more to find out that I can't write as exhaustive as everyone on this beautiful website created on your behalf because of the very little time I spent around you. I could go on and on to talk about my regrets, but that will lead me to no where at this time. 

My last memory of you was in December of 2009 when I was visiting home, my father and I gave you a surprise visit at your home in Cassava Farm which I will never forget because of how good it made me feel afterwards. I can remember the broad smile you had on your face just for seeing me on that faithful day, the warm, welcoming and soothing words that came from your beautiful wife, Ma Joan. Your gesture alone spoke a lot about your character as a loving and forgiving father and as the uncle that I never had the chance to know well. I remember how you were so quick to forgive me when I apologized to you, you opened your arms to me and in your face I saw your heart as pure as any loving father's would be. I am thankful to you and Ma Joan for being so loving and forgiving and may God comfort her and give her strength to go through the pain of your loss.

I have always known you from a distance, from others who had the opportunity to spend quality time around you. I laughed at many of the fun jokes and stories that I heard about you from my cousins. As I heard of some of your gestures, your stylish ways, I found out how similar you were to my father. I watched you from a distance and admired how you carried yourself, how you danced at occasions, I even knew your favorite dance moves and I would often laugh at some of your expressions. I used to accompany Epilonge to run some of your errands in Buea, we read and admired the "short notes" that you wrote, they were always so brief and concise. We thought they were awesome!

I remember one time in 1999 that I bombeb into you at a cyber cafe in Molyko, at that time email was not so popular in Buea like it is today. You told me you wanted to create an email address because you wanted to keep communication with Ngale who at that time had just travelled to the U.S. I sat down and helped you to create one, I remember when I asked you what you wanted to use for your password and you had one of the most hysterical responses that I could have never imagined, we both laughed the entire time. I remember when I helped you to typed out your very 1st email while you dictated and when we were done, I then clicked the "send" botton, your first question was: "So how many days will it take for the letter to arrive Ngale?" You then exclaimed in amazement, with happiness all over your face when I told you the letter was already in his mailbox, you then dipped your hand deep into your pocket, pulled out a 5,000cfa note and put into my hands. At a time when I was so broke Uncle, that came in so handy and I want to say thank you again. 

No one out there can rightly tell our story because it is very complex, some maybe too quick to run into judgement, but I know it is too complex for anyone's understanding except for our creator's. I am sorry Uncle that I never kept in touch after our reunion and reconciliation in 2009. I even heard about your ailment, but I was so naive to think you will always be there. 

You lived a very successful life here on earth through your dedication and hard work and the many seeds you planted in the lives of your children, many family members, and friends. It holds true that "Strong men stand for themselves and stronger men stand for others," you were a stronger man because you stood for many who today are better people because of your benevolence. Even though you are no longer with us, your legacy of family first, hard work, and dedication lives on. We your children, shall walk in unity, we shall do our very best to walk in your foot steps and keep you smiling as you watch over us from your father's Kingdom. 

I bid you Goodnight Uncle, as you lay down your head eternally upon your saviors breast. Greet Bro. Divine and Ebong for me. I love you Uncle and I will miss you.

Your Nephew,

Brinsley E. Ekinde 
Miami, Florida

GRIEF POEM: How We Survive 
If we are fortunate,
we are given a warning.

If not, there is only sudden horror, the wrench of being torn apart; of being reminded that nothing is permanent, not even the ones we love, the ones our lives revolve around.

Life is a fragile affair. We are all dancing on the edge of a precipice,
a dizzying cliff so high we can’t see the bottom.
One by one, we lose those we love most into the dark ravine.

So we must cherish them without reservation.
Now. Today. This minute.
We will lose them or they will lose us someday. This is certain.
There is no time for bickering. And their loss will leave a great pit in our hearts; 
a pit we struggle to avoid during the day and fall into at night.

Some, unable to accept this loss, unable to determine the worth of life without them, jump into that black pit spiritually or physically, hoping to find them there.

And some survive the shock, the denial, the horror, the bargaining, the barren,
empty aching, the unanswered prayers, the sleepless nights when their breath is crushed under the weight of silence and all that it means.

Somehow, some survive all that and, like a flower opening after a storm, 
they slowly begin to remember the one they lost in a different way…
The laughter, the irrepressible spirit, the generous heart,
the way their smile made them feel, the encouragement they gave
even as their own dreams were dying.

And in time, they fill the pit with memories that really matter.
We will still cry. We will always cry.
But with loving reflection more than hopeless longing.

And that is how we survive.
That is how the story should end.
That is how they would want it to be.

By Mark Rickerby

It is about 8:45 pm Wednesday January 30th 2013 in the USA and about 02:45am Thursday January 31st in Cameroon. I am leaving work and my phone rings as always; it’s my husband (Ngale aka jojo). He asked me where I was, I told him I was walking to the car. He said “get in the car”. That was strange, but I said “I am walking to the car.” So in a shaky voice he said “Daddy is gone”. I could not understand what he meant by that, so I asked, “what did you say?” He repeated “Daddy is gone”. At that moment; time stopped, my phone dropped and went off, the ground was still, my tears dropped. It can’t be true, I must be dreaming. How could it be, it is less than a month since we all sat at the table for lunch and less than a week that I spoke to Daddy.

Why…Why…Why? You were my father-in-law, but I called you Daddy. I came to know you through Leslie Ntube, before you were my father-in-law. You were full of Grace and very soft spoken. It was education first and everything else will be added on to you. You always asked Ntube and I about our academic progress and encouraged us to remain focused. As your daughter-in-law you accepted me like a daughter. You were a man of great conviction, your warmth and soft spoken nature was admired by both my family and friends. I remember our last moments back in Cameroon in December, our last meal together with you, mummy and my Dad; the day we had to leave for USA. I wished we could have spent more time at the table but we couldn’t due the time constraints were in. Little did we know that was going to be our last meal together!

My heart is saddened and broken; if only my tears could bring you back. We will sure miss you daddy but your memories will last forever. As one writer said “…and in the end it’s not the years in your life that count, it’s the life in your years”. You showed strength until the end and still had some enlightening words for us. Daddy, I know the Lord has called you to a better place, beyond those doors, there is peace and I know there will be no more tears in heaven. We will not forget you, nor speak of you with tears, but laugh and talk of you as if you were beside us. Your granddaughter “Queen Esther” will forever miss her “Grandpa”, but your memories will remain with her. We love you, but God loves you best.

Adieu daddy, until we meet again.

Your Daughter-in-law,
Besem Tabe.