Mummy, you reneged on your promise. Your father lived for a hundred and six years and you were supposed to beat that record by at least a year. And here you are, bowing out at just eighty seven plus years.
My aunty, my mother, mother of inestimable value, what will I do without you?
I knew Port Harcourt at all because you were here. I came and right away I had a home with you. I read my first course in school curtesy of your infuence. I had my first banking job curtesy of your infuence. When I needed a guarantor in the bank, you gladly and eagerly offered your house as security. When I would have known the insides of a Police Cell, curtesy of a troublesome caretaker, your very infuential presence saved me that horror!
My younger sister is teaching at Holy Rosary School today because you determined that she be there. The list is endless.
Mummy, you were larger than life. I learnt so much from you. There was no one you could not relate with. High or low, King or servant, you were comfortable. You were just beautiful, smart, charming Mummy.
No exalted office you could not enter. No goal you could not get. No help you could not render.
You left admirers everywhere you went and you were always grateful for every little thing that was done for you. Your prayer always was: "as you have done for me, so your children will do for you"
I will forever treasure the times I spent with you.
Your house was my unofficial family house in Port Harcourt. It was home to not just me but mine as well. Damilola would rather stop over there and spend the night than take the risk of not finding me at home when he came on holidays. I don't know what I'll do without it now you are gone.
I am just very glad that I had a bit of time to show you my gratitude, to say thank you. These last few years of constantly being in your company? I would never trade them for all the money in the world.
I love you so much Mummy and I'll miss you dreadfully.
But rest in perfect peace, in the bosom of the Lord. You deserve it.
OYENMWEN UDDOH.