TRIBUTE TO MY BROTHER-IN-LAW – NOBLE SIR BOB ODINKEMELU
Uncle Bobbiscus Peperempe! How come that on a day that is supposed to be your 60th birthday I am compelled to sit down and eulogize you in death? How did this happen? Where do we turn? Your very last words to me via text, less than 48 hours before God took you were, “God is in control.” And I responded, “All the time. Jisike, we’re all praying for you.” And that was it.
But how can that be it? Who will call me “Effective Babe,” “Effective Child?” From that first day, in 1992, when Aku, my sister, brought you home, you gave me those two nicknames and for the next 29 years, you never called me by my given names.
Late at night on March 9th, which was already early hours of March 10th in Nigeria, Aku sent me an SOS, “It’s a tough night, . . . .please pray.” I called her immediately, she briefed me on your condition, and we said a quick prayer. I texted my prayer group and asked them to pray for divine mercy. Though it was very late, three of my praying sisters were still up and we all started praying simultaneously but individually. Blinded by tears, I reached into my bedside drawer to grab a prayer book. Ironically my hand grabbed the St. Rita of Cascia prayer book which was among the many prayer books you bought for me in 2019 after I completed my pilgrimage to Cascia, Italy and regaled you with stories of the wonders of St. Rita of Cascia. I took that as a sign, and I said, “St. Rita, you are the patroness of impossible causes, please intercede for us.” But, in His infinite wisdom, God decided to call your name within hours.
We are heartbroken and numb. The English language says you were my brother-in-law, but you were my brother, in every sense of the word, plain and simple. You were so caring, giving, kind, humble, generous, and had a wicked sense of humor. You always brought levity to the most painful situations to help alleviate the pain. You never for once sent a driver to pick me up from the PH airport. You always came to meet me yourself, with loaves of Delta bread in the car. Then I would secretly slip you some of your favorite American snacks behind my sister’s back, so she won’t be on your case for eating what the doctors say you shouldn’t eat.
When you came into our family, it did not take you long to gain my trust; you became an extension of my most loved sister, Aku, who is my confidant, travel companion, and partner in crime. In those early days more than one person wondered out loud if you’d be able to understand and respect the closeness between me and my sister. They had nothing to worry about. You dived in, headfirst and it was like you had been a part of us all our lives. Occasionally, at family events when accommodations were tight, three of us even slept on the same bed, with my sister in the middle. You were so easy going and with no hang ups about my relationship with my sister. Whenever the tides of life jerked me and my children around, you were always there. Every time I shared any life’s challenges with Aku, my next words would be, “please tell Uncle Bobby.” Because I trusted you with my most painful secrets.
Uncle Bobbiscus, who did you leave Aku, Ezii, Dee, Bobby, Sibby, Kachi and all your other children for? Mama Oguguo is still waiting for her son-in-law to come and occupy his empty seat at the head of the table. My sister is devastated beyond words. Your children are confounded. Sister Ngo, your big sis, is in agony. It feels like Ikechukwu has died all over again. My mother is asking God why she should be burying another child at age 91. What a rude joke, that we will lay you to rest on Mama’s 91st birthday and what would have been Ike’s 63rd birthday. Oh death, where is thy sting? On that dark night in October 1999, when Ike’s body laid in state in the family parlor, after everybody had gone to sleep, I snuck out to see if my brother had risen from the dead. I found you there, weeping in deep sorrow, and alone with Ike’s body. My weary and wounded heart once again broke into tiny pieces. Now you will reunite with Ike, but knowing two of you together, I just hope you don’t get into any fights with the angels.
Good night, Uncle Bobby. May the angels of God accompany you on your journey. We will meet again on resurrection morning.
Love, Ugoagha
Your Effective Babe
