While you sleep on, dad …

Although we are always gleeful whenever we share memories of time spent with you, it is even more gratifying that those memories are fond ones. Even those corrections have now turned so funny. To this end I will like to pay tribute to you for validating Theodore Hesburg’s quote (the most important thing a father […]

While you sleep on, dad …
While you sleep on, dad …

Although we are always gleeful whenever we share memories of time spent with you, it is even more gratifying that those memories are fond ones. Even those corrections have now turned so funny. To this end I will like to pay tribute to you for validating Theodore Hesburg’s quote (the most important thing a father can do for his children is to love their mother) because you did love our mother and made her the strong woman she is today. I will also personally validate this biblical injunction “Train up a child in the way he should go and when he grows, he will not depart from it.” Today, the responsible and hardworking children (or adults) we have turned out to be are because of the kind of upbringing you and mum passed unto us.
Towards your passing, you told me point blank , your opinion of an ideal son inlaw. Well, I am proud to let you know you have one. I am sure you two would have gotten along because of Jacob’s strength of character and incredible confidence. You even share the same sense of humour. I remember,whenever you came home and needed mum’s audience you’d say “where is my wife?”. Well, my husband says exactly that. He would also look at our son fondly and say “Maureen’s son”. I’m told you said exactly that when we were a lot younger. He calls me so many funny names at different points in time and because I usually don’t want to laugh alone, I call my mum and she’d always say  “This your Jacob is such a replica of my husband”.  Did I even mention that he tells me everything under the sun the same way you and mum shared confidence.
Wait for this baba; you are now a grand dad. You have earned yourself a pride of place even in death. When I was pregnant I silently prayed for a son not for any reasons but just so I would fondly call him “baba” no matter what we named him after birth. Imagine my joy when my wish was confirmed at the fifth month. Again, I earnestly prayed my son would carry on some of your physical features so my pet name for him will be ‘add up’. In all of these, I never told anyone. It was my little secret. I was therefore pleasantly surprised when days to the naming ceremony, my eldest brother in-law called my husband from the blue  to suggest that we name our son after you (this is someone who never met you, whose own dad passed on two months before you did and who is not even from Nasarawa State). He specifically wanted the baby to be named “Otaki” but we opted for your second name; Mijinyawa.
Today, in loving memory of you, people call my little one by the name they called you; Adongari, big boss, brother, PS, uncle, oga and so on.  Even your aged mum calls him by the name she called you. In fact, the moment word went round that I had put to bed, everyone said you had returned. A Yoruba friend of the family even named the baby ‘Babatunde’. We often laughed about how you would have bought Mijinyawa toys to no end.
Indeed, there is so much in a name because as a matter of fact Mijinyawa is beginning to share your history and I am so excited about this. On a trip aboard British Airways, a co-passenger whom we were just meeting whispered to my husband that Mijinyawa will be a great man in his time. He specifically said we should keep praying for our son because he is one to watch. This stranger now angel of goodwill spoke with such cheerful confidence. When we told your wife, her response to my husband and was rather revealing. She said the same thing was said about you by a stranger who walked past you and your dad in Wuse village years ago.  I’m told he said you will be a “big man someday”.  Your late dad even wished he met that stranger again to let him know his prediction had  materialized going by the definition of “big man”. So for me, these are no mere coincidences because trajectory of stories like this abound as such I pray God for long life to see what my son would be because at the moment, other than babble, giggle and make gestures for his next meal, my son and father Mijinyawa  cannot tell me what he wants to be in future yet, so I will just keep basking in the excitement of the prophesy by that angel (not stranger anymore).
Honestly, I would say you are one lucky man because we have not let you down. Like I said in my first tribute, we have continued to live our lives in a fashion that if you return, we would not take to our heels. You’ve left behind a wife who is no pushover. She has continued to be a good manager in the affairs of the family like you’ve always known. I cannot forget your impressive confidence in her. She is still the rallying point amongst women in her husband’s family. Family functions are never ‘it’ without her. She is equally doing well in her endeavor. I am doing just fine in my own world. My younger ones are also no exemption, always augmenting on their radar to a greater future. Perhaps, the most heartwarming to you may be that of your little baby who was just in JSS 3 when we lost you. Five years on, she is a 200 level undergraduate. Always coming home with great grades.
In all, this tribute is one of gratitude. Gratitude for how life has been to this moment. After your demise, it seemed as though one wouldn’t get this far, but five years down the line, courage and the infallible faithfulness of Him who has power over life and death has kept us going. Your passage constantly reminds us of the inevitability of death.  What else do I say? Sleep on father, until the heavens beckon on us as well.
Otaki-Mallo (Mrs.) is the daughter of late Otaki Mijinyawa Oyigbenu, a former Federal Permanent Secretary who died on Dec 5, 2009.