A Special Child

How can I let the 31st of August pass without writing a tribute to the man whose happy juice produced me?

As I watch father in his eighty eight year old body and all soft spoken, I am filled with mixed feelings, this is a man who was once a strict disciplinarian and raised his voice at the slightest irritation.

He is so polite these days that the next word he says to you after he calls you your pet name is good morning or afternoon depending on what time of the day it is. Father is so courteous and whenever I am with him, I look at him and acknowledge that he is one man who sure wants to make heaven.

Father truly is the special one, his life attests to it. Lokpanta is as remote as remote can be yet he was able to rise above the backwardness and poverty of the people to get to where he did. 

I asked him once what motivated him to be all that he is considering that there were no role models. The successful men like his own father were the hunters whose wives made pots of soups filled with a lot of bush meat.

He told me that at a young age he wrote down everything he wanted to be in life before he turned fifty. That does not answer my question in any way because I still do not understand who or what inspired him to even try to achieve anything before he turned fifty.

He ticked off every milestone from his list and as soon as he turned fifty, he hung his boots from working and retired to Lokpanta where he started a private law practice in the nearest town which happened to be Okigwe.

He could have had more but he chose not to, he knew what was more important; to live life the way he wanted, go to court, amuse himself, go to his farm, eat fresh food and be a positive influence in his small community.

We always wondered why he retired early when he could have paved more way for us in life; he was in the oil sector, the River Basin, National Assembly, NPN political party chairman and even more. Father was everywhere and had the opportunity to acquire much more but he knew exactly what he wanted and as soon as he reached his peak, he left the stage. 

One thing I did not get from both mother and father is contentment in every area of life. I find myself wanting more and more though I learnt not to take the wrong path in trying to achieve more.

Father was indeed a special child; he has been the only surviving child of his late parents for a very long time. Most of his siblings died as infants and when I asked what killed them, he said to me, all sorts of diseases including malaria.

There were inadequate medical facilities in those days and so infant mortality was quite high. Malaria, jaundice, high fever, cholera, measles, chicken pox and a host of others could be the culprits but who would have known. Surviving infancy in those days was a miracle. 

Father told me that one of his sisters actually lived to toddler stage and was quite fond of him before she died like the rest. It was a trend, Elizabeth and Joseph Eke’s children always died. 

Apart from his elder brother Christopher who died after he had gotten married and had children, every other child in the family died including father only that while his family carried his corpse to be buried in the family grave land, young Ferdinand suddenly gave a loud sneeze; the undertakers and the rest of the mourners took to their heels. 

They threw him to the ground and when he sat up he was filled with confusion as to what was happening around him. Father miraculously woke up from death. He was barely seven years old then and would have been dead and gone and none of us, my siblings and I would have been birthed.

Today, he celebrates his 88th birthday and I join everyone who loves him to celebrate him for all that he represents.

I celebrate a man who has run his race and prepares himself everyday for a happy death. I celebrate a man who got better with age; he is gentler and more loving. 

He is kinder and loves God even more. He is quick to say yes except when it has to do with money, then you know that father is still very much intact. 

He lights up and is in his element when he discusses legal matters with kid brother Ody or grandson Quincy. They often treat me like I am not also a lawyer and so I always have to force myself into the conversation. Lol! Chauvinists, if you ask me.

I raise my glass to the rock of our home who has been doing his best to be both mother and father since Beatrice left us. He sends palm oil and abacha to us all the way from Lokpanta. He makes sure that our favourite food is waiting when we go visiting; he picks the choicest wine for us and prays for us. 

He says exactly what mother would say in tough situations. He tricked us into believing that he was too weak to bear mother’s passing; we were so worried but father has proved us wrong and that indeed life and death are in God’s hands.

My loving father, not seeing you as often as I want to, is the cross I carry every day. I love you and I will always do.  Plenty kisses and hugs to you. Thank you for loving us unconditionally!

Long live the king! God bless you!