On Feb 25th 2023, my home country Nigeria , the giant of Africa, held elections to determine its’ future.
This was the most anticipated election of our time, as millions had their hopes for a better future hanging in the balance.
The youth poured into the streets , to those voting polls to cast their hopes for their future into ballots.
The older generation also went to have their voices count , in the form of votes.
There were MANY deterrents that day, such as long lines that took some literally all day to vote, rain that interrupted these lines, dust storms that choose to dance and scatter INEC polling stations, sun and heat that made voters question their resolve to continue to wait in the hot sun.
Through it all, Nigerians waited patiently to cast their votes. Many were voting for the first time in their lives. Some who had started in the lines early that morning with the sunrise , could not cast their votes until the sun was down from the sky.
Finally the votes were cast. The ballots were collected , and we waited.
Nigerians at home and those in the diaspora, waited on pins and needles for the election results.
Then the silence was deafening. Days after such a hugely anticipated election, and no results ??
I was in Mexico with my American in laws and they would ask me “ any news from Nigeria?”, and I had nothing . Crickets.
This was unusual and very much unlike American elections where projections are typically displayed on TV, literally at all hours following elections.
But this was different..
I too waited , then I called family at home in Nigeria .. they too had nothing .
We were ALL waiting.
Then on March 1st, while people were asleep , the INEC * reported a winner, shocking the whole world.
This was NOT what the youth of Nigeria expected. To have their hopes dashed by reports of corruption and inappropriate handling of election ballots. To hear of many cases of election interference in the forms of violence at election polls, voter intimidation , mismanagement of the ballot counting with faulty machines that could not “ upload” election results and outright election fraud.
This was NOT what we had hoped for as we anticipated and dreamed of a new Nigeria, all those months ago.
Those ballots promised us of a new Nigeria, one with less corruption.
Now those ballots threatened to take away HOPE from us and for our future generations.
We will not let it. We must hang on , even if with the tips of our fingernails to hope for Justice.
Hope now for Justice to challenge the recent electoral process.
Now more than ever , we need HOPE for our beloved country Nigeria!
I will continue to HOPE
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1988 , “Ulo Nna” on Hospital Road, Aba, (old) Imo State was notorious for nostalgia and action .
Amidst all that trading action in Aba, sat our family (city) home.
There was never a dull moment on those streets of this bustling traders’ town in the eastern region of Nigeria.
Aba’s warm tropical breeze was stifled with the fumes from the engine exhausts of automobiles crowding the roads of this commercial city’s hustle and bustles.
Aba Ngwa! Is NOT a city for “mugus”(fools)
You have to be very “sharp” to inhabit this land and the children of Aba seem to be packed full of street smarts, straight from their mothers’ wombs.
My grandfather “Nna” was one of the first settlers from our village into Aba township, therefore he had choice property in the heart of the city’s trading posts- on Hospital road.
The house had been passed down to our father from our paternal grandfather Stephen , who moved from the rural village to this trading town Aba ,after becoming one of the first converts to Christianity , in order to pursue and expand his business.
The property on Hospital was really a “watering hole” for our family and so many others. The fronts of the yard were trading stores while the back of the building served as residence for our family and numerous relatives. There were several apartments but all shared a common “ yard” so everyone could easily be in everyone else’ business 😂
Relatives and family friends lived there until they were able to transition successfully to their own homes.
Hospital road had a buzz to it, with trading shops cramped next to eachother. There was always music blaring from record stores, cars honking in traffic and loud jocular conversations amongst traders.
Everyone seemed to always be in huge hurry in this West African town.
71 hospital road,Aba pic courtesy of ILO
The businesses were housed in “ sheds” which comprised of wooden stalls with brilliant artisans making incredible innovative goods for sale , automotive parts traders, import and export sheds, talented tailors creating traditional clothing while others were expert “okirika” traders **
There were always SO many varieties at the markets! A day spent at the local Ariaria market never disappointed, showcasing human interactions depicting life lessons in courage, resilience,humor , love and rivalry.
My Older brother would entertain for hours with these Ariaria market stories.
Aba picture from google
Most Aba roads were heavily crowded and there was a distinct smell of commercialism or maybe it was just those fumes from the over used , poorly constructed and maintained gutter drainage systems…eww!
Traders lined every street corners, forcefully hassling passersby to purchase this or that from them . Everywhere you looked some one was selling something!
Only very few areas in Aba attempted to prioritize residential plots. We felt lucky to have cousins in those suburbs. The irony is that we each likely fantasized about trading living spaces with one another, at times. The quiet of the suburbs with its’ loneliness and less mosquitoes, competed against the excitement of those crowded trading streets of Aba.
Aba Picture from outdoors.ng
Living in these commercialized areas meant close interactions with loud mouthed traders. It was not unusual for traders to audaciously comment on outfit choices of passersby, at times cat calling the pretty women or detesting others inappropriately dressed asking them ,who exactly allowed them out of their gates that morning .
Some of these unsolicited comments were harsh and could cut deep into ones self esteem, while others were so complimentary that your ego swelled bigger than an ishi aki**
My sister and I are seven and nine year olds with neatly braided tight cornrows on our hair. Our younger brother, a boisterous five year old who was obsessed with the newest Mike Tyson haircut style would beg our mother to allow him to get same at the barber shop.
Our father had a never exhausting fountain of energy and fun stored within him. Dad always found a way to literally infuse FUN into even the most mundane activities. It was no surprise that he would offer us a JOYRIDE in his old red fiat convertible which we all fondly called “ THE SPORTS CAR” .
Dad with another red sports car – New Orleans 2012
Sports car was only driven on special occasions.
We especially enjoyed the ride when we were all piled high ,rooftop down, standing room only , as many cousins and siblings as could possibly pack into the small convertible.
Then it was showtime….let the fun and joyous screams commence!
We took the joyrides at dusk when the blazing warmth of the sun was gone , and took with it all those loud mouthed traders whose shops were now closed for the day’s hustle. The crowded streets became empty and creepily quiet.
Dad would thrill us with the car ride revving up his engine every once in a while, our hair tossing in the wind, specs of sand from the tarred road peppered our laughing faces as we held onto for our dear sweet life.
On some occasions, Dad gave permission for our driver DeePee to ride us around. Dee Pee drove EVEN faster😅
Life seemed so carefree back then as if it contained no real problems.
Now as I reminisce on these sweet carefree memories, I am forced to appreciate the imminent passage of time.
I am grateful to have had joyrides in the red sports car, for that patriarchal home on hospital road with its hustling neighborhood that help toughen my skin and has in turn made me more resilient.
However, you know what I’m MOST appreciative of ?…..my FAMILY – close and distant relatives whose lives have enriched my life and have contributed tremendously to these BELOVED memories 💕
Which sweet memories of your childhood do you have to share?
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** okirika ( used clothing mostly from European countries for sale)
In every season give thanks – 1 Thessalonians 5:18
This season of my life has been hard.
I have been challenged by loss and grief.
Waking up to my First thanksgiving without my father physically present on earth is TOUGH!
To say I miss you is such an understatement 💔
Arrival hugs the day before thanksgiving day 2021
I no longer have the casual opportunity to physically express my gratitude to him with my words, a hug,a plate of yummy thanksgiving cooking, or jocular conversations shared on a thanksgiving morning family walk on the trail to Stacy Parks.
Arrival hugs the day before thanksgiving day 2021Thanksgiving day family walk 2021Thanksgiving day 2021
My thoughts wonder deeply into an existential plane… What does your view from heaven look like now? Are you gathered in heaven with your parents and other family members enjoying great laughs with the communion of saints? Is food even a thing in heaven?
Now your image mostly exists in my mind and my heart. Your eyes always so full of love and I only imagine that this love is intensified from heaven now .
Therefore your love goes on.. even in death.
I am choosing to give thanks to God for this love and all the manifestations of that love in my life .
You see , because my Dad loved so freely, he also accepted and gave so freely this love.
My dad’s love and acceptance of my DH , despite our cultural differences, while some Naija parents would have given a side eye to an interracial marriage and therefore blocked blessings – he did not, and not only welcomed my DH with open arms but supported our union true and true.
Thanksgiving day 2021
This gift of love and acceptance has therefore abounded exponentially in my life in so many angles.
Kids table Thanksgiving Day 2021
Wherever I look I can see the manifestation of love in my life .
I see it in you my DH, I see it in my children, I see in my mother and siblings, I see it in my wonderful Oma and Opa and extended family and in laws, I see it in my Dedes and my Dadas, I see it in my cousins and their children, i see it in my dog Teddy, I see it in my sweet friends , I see it in my HOLLA group, I see it in my WOW group , I see it in my work and the ability to provide mental health services to those in need, I see it in the opportunity to be living in a beautiful country with my roots extended from the great continent of Africa.
Hanging out on thanksgiving day 2021
I see it in you ,my readers and I am grateful.
So yes, it’s a bittersweet thanksgiving , however I can still see so clearly the many reasons to give thanks.
I hope that you can look around you and your own unique circumstances and see reasons to be THANKFUL♥️🙏🏾
❤️
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I am writing through my deepest grief … I have lost my father of 83yrs to the ages💔.
God called him home on the feast of our Lady of Sorrows ( the day the Catholic Church celebrates Jesus mother Mary receiving the body of her son from the cross)
I have lost the one whose existence added sauce to my life . Now the world seemed more bland without him.
Dad absolutely giddy at receiving this gift of a T-shirt on his 80th birthday ♥️
DH*and I landed in New Orleans airport on that day that he was called home to God. Even the air seemed to stale and lack spice. It was like being given food without any salt.
Typically, our landing at Louis Armstrong Airport is filled with the anticipation for a wonderful family reunion , with my Dad at the center of all the excitements.
My Dad knew how to take his job as a great fun father and grandfather seriously.
Dallas Texas
We called him “Chief” and he was regal in so many ways even though he was also the most humble human I ever met…
Our family trips to New Orleans were filled with Chief planning this or that, all in an effort to ensure that WE all had the very best times! They were organized bus tours , just because- with his clinic staff as our make shift bus driver lol, nighttime boat cruise on the Mississippi River with all his grandchildren, catered local Cajun cuisine at thanksgiving, tourist tours to visit the alligators in the swamps of New Orleans, big fun parties thrown in their home just to welcome their first grandchild, or parties just in celebration of his family coming home.
Every visit to New Orleans was memorable and filled with JOY! .
New Orleans with grandchildren Dallas with grandchildren Washington DC with family Touring Washington DC with grandchildren Breakfast in Eziachi Nigeria with grandkids 50th wedding anniversary/80th birthday party celebration in New Orleans South Africa visit with grandchildren Capetown South Africa with grandchildren Twins’ First holy communion St. Louis Memorial Day vacation with family, Florida may 2022Visiting him at Downman Urgent Care Clinic- a place he absolutely loved and gave his life’s work as a physician Owerri with grandkidsWith his beloved sons in-law
My Dad was truly the bagpiper , always finding tunes to bring us Joy and we , his children and grandchildren enjoyed dancing to the tunes of the pure joy he brought us.
My Dad seemed to have life’s manual in hand- and he lived to the fullest! My mother now reminisces on how it was not unusual that they are the last ones on any dance floor. I always loved how easy going my father was, he fit nicely into ANY room, and always had the right words and mannerisms at ANY time. If there was a cramped car during our full family gatherings, he would volunteer to be the adult sitting in the back of the minivan with the kids, just so everyone can fit for the ride to church or wherever.
Chief was adventurous and carpe diem*ed) the heck outta life .
Dad and I , New OrleansDancing completions you daughter Ginika
At 19 yrs old, he left the comfort and familiarity of his homeland in Nigeria, to land on the American shores after he had been awarded a scholarship geared to attract brilliant African minds to the USA in the 1960s.
He embraced his new land and thrived, becoming a surgeon, marrying his bride from his homeland, becoming a father and grandfather , a cultured man, a philanthropist, an author , a man of God and friend to so many.
Dallas 2021
Now, I find myself waking up each morning to the reality that he is no longer with us in the physical form. The pain is so real in numerous moments of the day, when I reach for my phone to make a call to tell him of this experience or the next, only to be reminded of the rude reality that he is gone.
Mexico with grandchildren
Even if he lived another 100 yrs it will not feel like enough, because he embodied so much Love. However, I also know that he was only a gift from God and has returned to the giver of life. Indeed we are all on borrowed time.
A reminder to make the most of our lives on earth.
The condolences keeps pouring in and I often find myself consoling tears on the other phone line.
So many stories of people whose lives he touched, as a physician, an Uncle, a mentor, a friend etc etc.
Celebrating a surprise birthday gathering for him at his clinicMardi Gras New Orleans
Now there are the moments that I now choose to call “God-Win” moments where I am convinced of his reunion with the communion of saints and smiling down on me. I am so grateful that I have so many wonderful “ make you smile” memories of my father. Those are my gifts to hold on to now and I hope to keep these always.
I see him in the legacy of his family , his children and grandchildren. He hasn’t left us completely, because his spirit and legacy are alive in us.
The other day, I had a God win moment as I dropped off one of my twins to football practice ( DH dropped the other twin as we always divide and conquer with this parenting gig)…
Anyways as I watched one of our twin walk away from the car in his football gear looking so grown up , hair flowing and handsome, this thought came to my mind and literally spoke out loud to myself – “Well Dad , there goes YOUR legacy “and that was comforting.
Thanksgiving New Orleans Mexico
The reality is that OUR big Iroko tree who was our healthy , never sick , never demanding has indeed fallen, and all the cover and protection is lifted and we , his mourners are feeling the lack of shade and comfort that this giant of a man provided us all.
We must now try and readjust to our new reality without his strong protection , along with the wonderful qualities that his life added to give our life more sauce, making life so much more sweeter.
Thankfully I am consoled with the belief and reminder that he is now in the communion of saints and will keep his love and care on us now from heaven – for all eternity.
Even in death he keeps blessing us 🙏🏾♥️
Capetown South Africa
Joining the club of those who have lost a parent is such a hard club to be belong to now. Especially when you had an amazing father like I have had all my life . I am now choosing to mourn him while remembering to honor his legacy in those that I have left .
Pastor TD Jakes talks about “ strengthening what remains”even in losses. I am choosing to do just that one day at a time . My tears will flow and at times stain my face, but I will choose to love all that remains , in the example that my father has given me throughout his life .
In my Igbo custom, I was the reincarnation of my father’s mother and so he called me his “ Mama Janet”. A term that has always been endearing and also allowed me space to share so much humor with him, as I would in our later years teasingly call him “ Odi ishi okpukpu” like his sisters nicknamed him.
Dog lover all his life Florida with grandchildren Rollercoaster with grandson at almost 80yrs!Hanging out with Chief St Louis
I am so grateful that we really shared So much laughter and fun together. Chief inspired so many and in his presence, he had a way of making you feel seen, like YOU mattered.
Thank you Dad for always SEEING me I will forever be grateful for your love ❤️
Poet and philosopher Kahlil Gibran says, “To live in the hearts of others is not to die”.
Rest in God Chief Omenka, my dearest father🙏🏾♥️
New Orleans LaLagos , NigeriaAPA conference with his best friend/brother in Law, Atlanta Georgia.Our wedding 2005My father daughter dance at our wedding Seregenti, Tanzania With his son, Nigeria.Buffalo, New YorkTree house, St LouisSt Louis MOEnjoying simple things in life like this ice cream cone on the beaches of Anna Maria island Adieu Chief Omenka🙏🏾♥️
Have you ever heard the saying “ it smells like rain?”
I always wondered what exactly “it” smells like? Those who say that they can smell the incoming rain usually state it with some confidence in their knowing.
Typically they don’t give a precise description of the smell of incoming rain except to say “yup! It sure smells like rain”
It would be nice if the storms of our lives came with warnings in the form of a fragrance or perhaps an alarm. This will help us prepare for the changes of new season in our lives.
Not every change of season is to be feared. Some changes of season are welcomed for the endings that they bring and the new beginnings they usher in.
In life, change is inevitable. A wise man once said that the only thing constant about life is change.
Nonetheless change can be hard. We are creatures of habit and we thrive on predictability.
While we are always undergoing changes , some changes of seasons are more impactful than others.
Going through changes in our lives and the lives of those we love can be OH So bitter sweet.
There are joys in the new seasons but there are also challenges and hardships with having to make ANY change.
As the fall winds begin to enter the Midwest American atmosphere, I too notice the changes in my own life.
I am watching my young children become teenagers who are now sparing with their hugs from time to time. Distant are the days of their toddler selves , physically clinging on to my arms ( and even legs) for security.
Their growth is beautiful to see, but they are also growing into their own independent lives.
In addition, I am also watching my dear parents, now grandparents beginning to age and need more care.
Spending the past week with my parents in New Orleans, was a stark reminder of these winds of change.
Is this what they mean by the “sandwich generation”?
My family, parents and my parents in law at our twins’ holy communion celebration.
I don’t know what the new season of life will bring however I am hopeful. Hopeful that I am equipped with all the grace I need to triumph through this season of change.
Gratefully, I don’t walk this path of change alone, and will not take for granted, the many loved ones I have , on this journey of life .
All of your support have been highlighting the blessings of God in this season of change.
As always, thank you for reading my blog and of course I welcome your comments and any shared experiences .
Have you had to care for your aging parents while raising your own children? Do you have any advice for managing these sandwich generation years?
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MindMuse 