Tribute To My Mother
What can I say about my sweet, loving, caring, selfless, merciful, resilient mother who single handedly raised me because my father died when I was only 22 months old.
I really have no memory of playing with my dad, jumping in his arms, or being carried my him since I was a kid when he transitioned to heaven. Somehow, you made me believe that my father’s childhood and best friend - Mr Akinbọbọla was my father which I believed until I was grownup. He would visit us almost everyday in the evening after leaving work since he was a school principal and he also visited us on Saturdays sometimes.
I would scream “Daddy”, jumped in his arms and he would carry me high up while you watched with pride and joy.
I can’t prove this, but I think you probably asked my brother and sister who are older than me not to tell me that Mr Akinbọbọla was not my real father. So in light of this, I received and enjoyed my father’s love and affection growing up, through “his childhood and best friend” because of my mother’s good insight.
My mother was a disciplinarian, being a school teacher, and later a head teacher. You did not “spare the rod” when necessary. However many times you didn’t have to spank me but just “gave me the look” and I would behave myself.
I honestly enjoyed spending time with you at home because our home was so peaceful, calm, tranquil and serene.
When I was in primary and secondary school, I never really wanted to go out but you would insist that I go out to visit my friends who had been at our house multiple times.
You wanted me to socialize and relate with my friends and classmates to develop my interpersonal and relationship skills.
You would even “give me money” at times, so I could leave our house to spend time with my friends in their own places of residence.
Mother, you trained me to be a prayerful, thoughtful, hardworking, honest, godly, and responsible man. You took me to church every Sunday and to Wednesday Bible study regardless of how I felt about going.
You also taught me to be well dressed, particularly when going outside. You would say to me “your appearance and the way you present yourself will determine the way people treat you”.
I have lived by that advice all my life, and even now my patients and coworkers always complement my “sharp dressing”.
You taught me all I needed to know about cooking. After leaving home, I was able to cook anything I wanted to eat including the difficult ones for most men like akara, mọinmọin, and aṣaro.
I even displayed my cooking skills to my wife, Bolanle who was then my girlfriend in Abeokuta and taught her how to cook “Ọbẹ ila alasepọ and Mọinmọin”.
My mother, you were a true believer in the Lord Jesus Christ and you had an intimate, genuine relationship with God. You read your Bible daily, talked to God daily, sang praises to God everyday and taught me how to pray. You even had several church meetings at our house over many years.
You loved to do house to house evangelism when you were younger.
I can still hear you singing the old hymns at our house in the evenings from the “Anglican Hymnal Book”.
You did this routinely after returning from work and after settling down in the balcony chair upstairs. Because of you, the “Hymns” are still my favorite Christian songs to date.
You were so close to God that you knew what I was doing wrong even though we were hundreds of miles apart.
Whenever God revealed things about me to you, you would take public transportation (there was no mobile phone in those days for easier communication) to Ibadan and later to Abeokuta so you could tell me what God had revealed to you about me.
You were right on point every time and helped to redirect me back on the right path. With God’s help alone, you put me through what was undoubtedly considered the best Medical School in Nigeria and Africa at that time.
Mother, you always told me “you can do anything you want to do as long as you put your mind to it”.
You were very special to me and left an indelible mark that cannot be erased by anyone. Until your last days on earth, I always enjoyed talking to you on the phone weekly, telling jokes and making you laugh. You always loved the way I prayed for you on the phone and thanked me for it each time. You also made me laugh a lot with your many jokes and gestures.
You taught me many worship songs in Yoruba and English which I will forever cherish. I wrote many of them down. Even when I was driving, I would pull over to write down the songs.
You would sing it first, then we would sing it together after which you would ask me to sing the song alone until you felt I got it.
Sleep on mother. Sleep in heavenly peace. I know you have reunited with your loving husband (my dad).
I miss you so much but one thing I know, I will see you again someday. God be with you till we meet again. “[Yes] we have confident and hopeful courage and are pleased rather to be away from home out of the body and be at home with the Lord.”
2 Corinthians 5:8 AMP
Good night mom.
Adieu.
Oluwaṣinaayọfunmi Moretiayọ Akinduro
Your loving son