My Mum- Nwa James Enechukwu

I write this with a smile.

A smile that must mirror that of my Mum when she talked about her Dad.

Now the smile gets even broader.

You see, I didn’t get to meet my GrandFather, Chief James Enechukwu, but I heard so much about him and ofcourse saw his pictures and if I must say, he was quite handsome and my Mum has some resemblance to him.

My GrandFather must have been a good man, not because he’s my GrandPa, no, not at all but like my Mum would say; 40 years and more after his death, his name was still opening doors for them.

We grew up hearing my Mum and her sisters refer to themselves as “Umu James Enechukwu”, they were proud to be his children, this is not withstanding the fact that he passed on quite early; when my Mum was about 12 years old.

Chief James Enechukwu was not only a devout Christian and a wealthy businessman, he also had the renowned position of being the Treasurer of St. Dominic’s Catholic Church in my hometown; Uke, Idemili North Local Government Area, Anambra State.

I remember one day, in a conversation with my husband in our sitting room, my Mum would talk about how good their Dad was to their Mum, his godly attitude and she would add with this proud look on her face; i makwa na Papa m bu treasurer? Did you know my Father was the Church treasurer?

Being a treasurer these days would mainly be a book keeping role as monies are expected to be deposited in the bank but this was not so in the 60’s. This meant that my GrandDad had access to Church funds and must have kept such a good account of it that he earned quite a reputation.

Moreso, he was a key player in the construction of the Church building in my hometown. About 50 years after his passing, as the Church dedicated it’s renovated building, Pa James Enechukwu’s name was listed in the Church brochure for his exemplary role. My Aunty, Mrs. Virginia Obi narrated this with mixed feelings as this was shortly after my Mum’s passing.

Back in the days, when there were no well written books on how to be a good Dad, my GrandPa chose to live right and modeled same to his children; those who were old enough to understand. This goes to say that being a good parent is more in the way you live your life, how you treat people, including your spouse and ofcourse your children.

A good man, out of the good treasures of his heart, brings forth good things… Luke 6:45a NKJV

Today, in telling my Mum’s story, I choose to honour her father, my GrandFather; Chief James Obumneme Enechukwu.

The Storytela

#LadyBeneLivesOn

#InEverLovingMemory

My Mum- Christmas Stories-Pt. 2

“1-2-3- Go! B***** Onye Ohi!!!!” We would scream, as we approached our compound in the villa.

Finally we were home and the excitement for Christmas was gradually getting to it’s peak.

Well, we only had that priviledge to shout if we were riding in my Mum’s car. Those who rode with my Dad usually sat all nice and pretty until they arrived the villa and disembarked.

My Dad is a chronic builder. He was either always building or renovating a built house and this showed in compound in the villa. everytime we came home, something new had been added or remodelled. As kids, we didn’t mind, we had enough rooms to play in and enough places to run around in, until, well, we grew older and became part of the cleaning team.

A few days before we travelled for Christmas, Mum would usually arrange to have the house cleaned out. Sometimes, they would lay clean bedsheets on all the beds and all we did would just be arrive and unpack. As we grew older though, we became of the dusting, scrubbing, cleaning and bed dressing team and ofcourse, I started to wonder if we really needed all that space. Talk about knowing where the shoe pinches.

We would barely settle in when the visitors would start arriving to greet my Mum. One look at your face and they would go ‘o nke a bu…‘ ‘is it this one that…’ and my Mum would fill in the gap with the appropriate story while they mocked a frown if the person didn’t remember them.

I can never forget my Mum’s long explanation of who was who. I can’t claim to ever remember.

“Mummy keduzi onye bu ife a?” We would ask, wanting her to help explain who a relative was. And she would go like; “Mama onye a, na Mama m, mu nwadiana na Nkwelle” meaning “This person’s mother and my mother are cousins from Nkwelle”, or she would say “o ro nna m ochie” and I would nod without understanding. So some of these people turned up for her burial and I didn’t know who they were…

As soon as we settled in, my Mum would insert the Boney M Christmas Carol in the Radio player. She always had one for every Christmas, an orange cassette back then. The deep bass belting “May your days be merry and bright…” and many other Christmas songs helped set the tone for the celebrations. She would later on start adding Christmas lights, strung on the Christmas trees pine trees already growing in the compound.

On Christmas day, we all got dressed and drove to St. Dominics Catholic Church, Uke, a Church her father served in diligently as the treasurer and helped build before his demise. We flocked around her after service and greeted her friends before heading into the cars and heading home.

The rest of the Christmas was generally spent entertaining guests, and when we were younger, visiting our Grand Mum and Great-Grand Mother. We were allowed to indulge in soft drinks, Mum would say, “rapu fa, oo Christmas ka a na-agba”, asking whomever to let us be, we were celebrating Christmas. Lol.

Going back to Onitsha was usually a drag, Mum loved it in the village. She would postpone our journey until we absolutely had to go back and then the packing started again, but this time around with less enthusiasm and vigour.

Laid to rest in this compound where she provided so much warmth, her grave would forever be a reminder that once upon a time, Lady Bene was here.

The Storytela

#LadyBeneLivesOn

#InEverLovingMemory