ForeverMissed
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Learning religious songs in Duala

Shared by Catriona Ekollo on November 17, 2020
My Mbamba and I spent a lot of our time together learning about the good Lord, the Holy Bible and songs of praise. 
She loved singing beautiful melodies in Duala language and would "la la la la" whenever she didn't remember the words immediately. The first one I can remember learning with her just before my baptism was "Na Salō" which spoke about how small we are as humans, but reassured that the good Lord doesn't care about that when He showers us with blessing.

My favorite of these songs one this year has been "Kristo a Tondi Mba" reminding me of God's unmeasurable love for me, and mind. My mbombo was a woman of gratitude and till her very last days on earth, she was to be heard saying "Thank You, Thank God" and so through my pain, my gratitude remains. Na som Loba o nyol'a ndola'O.

Cooking Lessons in Great Soppo

Shared by Catriona Ekollo on November 13, 2020
My Mbombo and I would wake up early in the morning and after thanking God, cleaning ourselves and eating serious breakfast "for strength" we would set out to the backyard bench and prepare the day's meal. I was about 4-5 years old but I remember washing the bitter-leaf, onions, and other ingredients in a small basin, ready for her to cut. Wether it was Okro soup or Ndole, there had to be greens, because vegetables are key nutrients. After ingredients were prepared, Uncle Moyo would make the fire in the outdoor traditional kitchen. And there I would sit and watch it boil with the other children. I would gather all left over ingredients, some salt here, some onion slices there, and save them for a soup of my own later in the day. As soon as lunch was eaten and everyone retired from the kitchen, I was back outside putting to practice my own lessons. Gathering leafs from the garden trees (sometimes guava, sometimes other random grass), I would make a tiny soup with my saved ingredients from the main meal and beg Uncle Moyo to blow the firewood under my fire. After my soup was ready I would bring it to Iya Mbombo to taste it and in true fashion, she would eat it but also praise my efforts. We would revisit the recipes over the years until I mastered them all and became in charge of main meals myself.

Thank You my Iya Mbombo, for your unending love and patience. I love you, forever.

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