My Uncle Lifongo was truly a great man. I feel that I have learned equally more about him with his passing as I did when he was alive. He was so humble that I honestly didn’t realize all of the great things that he did because he just didn’t talk about them. My Uncle Lifongo completed school at the age of 14 and by the age of 19 he had completed a degree to become a teacher. From there, he taught secondary school and later came to the U.S., completed is PhD in French Studies, completed a post-doc, and then became a faculty member at Lawrence University for 24 years. You probably already knew this about my uncle. What you might not have known is that my uncle financially supported all of his siblings and personally paid for the children of his deceased brother to go to school. My Uncle Lifongo also started a non-profit foundation that has regularly given back to grade school children in his village Bota Land. Throughout all this, he was a true scholar that also became distinguished as Fulbright Fellow. If you search for the name “Lifongo Vetinde,” in Google Scholar, you will find at least 10 pages with his published articles, books and citations to his work. Throughout all this, my Uncle was a dedicated father, husband and the reliable “family man,” that people called when times got rough. I had no idea that my uncle had achieved so much or had so much responsibility because during the times that we spent together, he was generally lighthearted and jovial.
In my grief, I have called out to God, “Why did you take him so early?” I then recall that the old Greek playwright, Menander once said, “Whom the Gods love die young.” While my uncle lived to the age of 64, he still had a lot of life left and a whole lot more to give to the world. There are still so many plans that we had talked about that we didn’t get a chance to do. I am only comforted with the thought that God needed another soldier in his army and He needed the soul of my uncle and his indefatigable humor and optimism to galvanize the angels for a cause.
As I mourn for his loss, I have come to realize that my uncle left us with many gifts before he departed. First and foremost, he gave me the example of what a father should be. He always put his daughters first. Not at any moment did my uncle express anything other than unwavering support for his daughter Agnes or Naomi. His love for them was overflowing. I lean on his example for the relationship that I am building with my own daughters.
He left me with an example of what real humility looks like. I would frequently joke and call my uncle, “Uncle Professor Vetinde,” and he would always respond, “please, no titles.” I knew that he understood my humor, but it was my way of offering respect. After working so hard for much of his life, some would gladly accept the title of “professor” or “doctor” but not my uncle. Whether in jest or real conversation, he did not want the title. He wanted people to accept him as “Lifongo John Vetinde.”
My uncle also left me with the example of how to care for others beyond your immediate family. I am sure that there are many who can attest to his kindness. Uncle Lifongo personally recruited me to the non-profit foundation that the started. The mission of the foundation was to support grade school children with books and computer literacy programs in Bota Land, where he grew up. He was very passionate about the work of the foundation. On my last trip to Cameroon I managed to do a little work for the foundation. I took pictures, very good pictures if I may add, of one of the schools that the foundation is supporting. After I sent the pictures to my uncle via WhatsApp, he asked me to go back and take more because they were not good enough! That simple request describes the heart that he had for the foundation and his desire to give back to community.
My uncle changed my life and impacted many lives for the better. I will do my best to carry his legacy forward to my children and beyond. In my grief, I am sad that he is no longer with us, but I also know that God has a plan for him, even in death. I can see my uncle jubilantly contributing in heaven. Knowing my uncle, he would want us to view his parting with gladness in our hearts for he is now with our heavenly father.
That being said, I will close with this poem that exemplifies how I think that my Uncle Lifongo would want us to frame this moment.
* Death is nothing at all – By Canon Henry Scott Holland *
Death is nothing at all
I have only slipped away into the next room.
I am I, and you are you.
Whatever we were to each other, that we still are.
Call me by my old familiar name,
speak to me in the easy way which you always used.
Put no difference in your tone,
wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.
Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes we enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me, pray for me.
Let my name be ever the household word that it always was,
let it be spoken without effect,
without the trace of a shadow on it.
Life means all that it ever meant.
It is the same that it ever was;
there is unbroken continuity.
Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight?
I am waiting for you, for an interval,
somewhere very near, just round the corner.
And all is well
Uncle Lifongo, I thank you for your life and I look forward to dancing with you again.
With everlasting love and respect.
Your nephew,
Gordon Nameni