As a young girl who left Agwa at the early age of life to tend someone’s children in Mgbidi. The Nigeria Civil War of 1967 broke out, and I was whisked out of the shores of Nigeria to Cameroon to continue my housekeeper’s job.
Returning from Nigeria at the end of the war with no opportunity for basic education, suitors flooded in like a hurricane. I closed my eyes against so many of them who were at large and luxuriously in a good position to accept you, which sent shocking waves down the spines of parents, including mine. The opposition grew larger, but in all, you surprised everyone and completed the dowry in record time, and I became your lawful wife.
Since September 9th, 1977, you paid for my marriage Bride price of #240; I have not seen the nakedness of any man on earth. Of course, you were my first and only love, and as such, I made you my second god.
From the very beginning of our marriage, it wasn’t spiced with love from relatives; rather, opposition continued to grow in disheartening manners, but our love and understanding never grew weary.
I didn’t accept to marry because of luxury. You were the poorest amongst those who asked for my hand in marriage. You married me while in your maternal home with no house of yours, no car, no money in your bank account, no landed property, and no bicycle.
From my first conception to the 9th one, we saw hell!
Hell is an understatement! You ran like a madman at the Lagos Island Maternity Hospital when I was transferred from Mushin West Maternity, Lagos, because of pregnancy complications to raise money for the hospital bill. And to the glory of God, luck shone on you, and we had our first child, named Glory Ifeyinwa.
As if that wasn’t enough, you were sacked from work seven times in Lagos after I came back from the hospital, and you still got another job seven times.
All of these were signs that Lagos wasn’t fair to us. We relocated to Auchi, former Bendel State, now Edo State, to make earn meet as well as Port Harcourt, Anambra, and Delta State; all were a journey of horrors but not without hope, faith in God, love, and understanding.
At one point, I accused nature of being unfair to us because everyone deserted us. We were abandoned like a trash can. We retire to the village, and there opens another page of humiliation, dejection, and sabotage. We were treated like leprosy patients, safe for a few individuals who gave us a place to stay.
Left with nothing, you started with tapping of palm wine, which you sell to feed your family. This vocation wasn’t the destination. You quit it and learned how to climb palm trees, cut them, and process them for sale at the Ogbafor Market. From there, you began to sustain your growing family of three: two girls and a boy.
The world crumbled on you again when our second daughter, Joy Onyekpachibeya, was born on the 13th of June, 1982, and died on the 4th of November, 1989, followed by the death of our third daughter, Ogedi, born on the 3rd of January, 1984, and died on the 28th of October, 1985.
In all of these bitter ordeals, nobody came to our rescue. You borrowed heavily to take care of their hospital bills, yet they died.
No friends came, no relatives; it was only our love and understanding that kept us.
Your decision to stop living in someone’s house was one of the best. You erected a two-room mud house roofed with raffia palm front. A house where you access the bedroom before going into the kitchen.
At this time, you go to your normal farm to cut palm fruits, and at night, you go for snail picking. The newfound vocation helped us to care for six children and pay for their school fees, as we will sell the snails in larger quantities every day during the season and sell palm fruits on market days (usually every four days).
You maintained these lines of business until June 1st, 2005 when Mrs. Glory Akabuiro attacked you while you were sleeping and damaged your remaining eyes. This development began another ugly page in our marriage.
Irrespective of this challenge, you keep pushing, managing bad eyes to climb tall palm trees just to sustain your family until it got so bad that it finally forced you out of the trade.
God used the children he gave us to start tending to virtually all of our needs. To the glory of God, we had a better roof over our heads; it was extended to a bigger house. This good development stirs the angst of the enemies once more, but they are not God!
You attended the wedding of your first son in faraway Delta in grand style. That is how God has brought us. On that day, I saw you cry for joy, and on looking at your face, tears ran down my cheeks. I wiped them off with a handkerchief but couldn’t help it as the horrific experiences flooded my eyes, remembering what we went through when Emmanuel was born. You came and pulled me up from the seat before I was recollected happily again.
You, yet again, attended your second son’s wedding in Irete. The same tears rolled down again. I came close and tapped you. We went inside together to continue the celebration.
Gradually, you were no longer that church rat again, that palm wine tapper again. That man who lives from one house to another, that daily farmhand laborer, that palm tree climber—your number has increased numerically and economically. The size of your farm portion also increased from only you to two of your sons. You became one of those who have Christmas rice to share and other arms giving. Some people now prefer calling you “Papa Honourable” and “Papa Pastor” instead of Barna!
Some of the best qualities I cherish in you are your ability to fend for your family, respect for orders, and integrity. You respect your elders and give them their place, and that is why God gave you the privilege to head the entire Uchenwoke family as the eldest before he took you.
May your spirit hear me; in my broken heart, I say you didn’t betray my love for you. I saw a perfect definition of a man—one who protects his own. I found that in you! Our bond was so close that we developed our language and signs to communicate in difficult times. We may have our differences, but in fairness to your spirit, it doesn’t last 24 hours because I have no place to go, nobody to run to, and nobody who would listen to me, likewise you. Death has shattered all these including our plans!
Remembering how you married me and your death showed truly that you loved me beyond. You won my heart by your sheer bravery and courage. You knew that your time was up because you had survived more deadly and money-sapping sicknesses, yet you didn’t die. But you choose to die before me after calling your children to come and take me to the hospital before I die due to a reoccurring illness. They, as usual, responded to your call, and my stay lasted for 28 days. Getting ready to come back, I was told you were having stomach disturbance. This information got to me on Sunday, the 30th of August, and I became agitated, wanting to go back on Monday morning.
The stomach upset prevented you from going to the toilet, eating, as well as urinating.
When your first son directed that you should be brought to Owerri to stay with me on Monday evening so that on Tuesday morning, 3rd of September, 2024, you would be taken to the Federal Medical Centre (FMC), Owerri for laboratory tests and treatments. You were finally brought to Owerri, and we had discussions. Nothing was that serious other than the pain.
You woke up in the morning, better than when you came. But behold, that was a sign that your time is up.
After a few talks with you, you requested that I should allow you to pray. You prayed and died in a twinkling of an eye. And I was caught flighted wondering what a joke! That joke extended to hours until your children came back and took your lifeless body to the mortuary.
Your death means that I will forever miss a man who never dragged my name to shame. Who has always defended me and his children, turning up in difficult times. Your death means that I will forever sleep alone! I have forever missed a husband, a brother, a friend, and a gossip mate.
Nevertheless, I thank God you didn’t die a minority! You didn’t die anyhow! You have given your life to Jesus and have never bowed down to any image except the name of Jesus, and you made your prayer to him before going to Heaven.
Above all, those children you labored for and took all the punches didn’t abandon you at any time. You were the best of friends to them until your death. And they are here to bury you!
May God receive your soul and give you eternal peace.
Amen.
A TRIBUTE FROM THE BLEEDING HEART OF YOUR OWN, ANASTASIA NKEMHURU EKPERECHI
(Wife of the late Barnabas Ndubuisi Nkemhuru Ekperechi).
