It is a truism that in matters of friendship, age is nothing but number. It is also a fact that true friendship is no respecter of colour, religion and or tribe. This, to me, explains the kind of relationship that I had with a woman old enough to be my grandmother but whom, as the Almighty willed, turned to be a friend – yes, a friend.
My path and that of Mrs. Oluremi Osheidu crossed in the early 90s when she was my mother’s boss in the office. She retired from active service in the Customs as an Assistant Comptroller General of Customs (ACG) some years ago.
Since she came into my life, we had developed a kind of friendship that only someone in my shoes can understand, or at least appreciate. It was that kind of relationship that mostly exists between a grandmother and her ‘favourite’ granddaughter.
Like I said earlier, my relationship with Mrs. Osheidu was not in any way tainted by the fact that we were of different ethnic and religious backgrounds; indeed, it grew from strength to strength over the years until she was snatched early this month by the cold hands of death.
During her life time, she was fondly referred to as “Madam” by my family members. This is because of the fact that she adopted a lot of people as her friends, children and grandchildren. And she so much believed in and cherished friendship till the end of her life.
Through my association with the late (I am still trying to come to terms with the fact that she is no more) Mrs. Oluremi Osheidu, I have come to appreciate and cherish friendship more. I have also come to learn that humility is not a weakness, but a kind of strength, which only the strong shows. And as they say “empty vessels make the loudest noise.”
The late Mrs. Osheidu was also a disciplinarian (leading many to see her as harsh). She was blunt and never afraid to call a spade by its name. She lived her life to the fullest. To me, she was that grandmother with a heart of gold, exceptionally clean and straight forward.
She gave me every reason to reciprocate the love and care she showered my mum, my kids (especially my late daughter Walidati) and me. She made me one of her family members and was always there for me, visiting me always. This was uncommon for a successful woman who was born into wealth, royalty, and had power. Though she was by far older than me, which should automatically make me the one to visit her, call her in line with the African tradition, our relationship blossomed more because of her efforts than mine. She was often the one calling and visiting. And she never complained.
I still remember, and vividly too, how she courageously fought the ailment that eventually led to her death. She had so much hope and belief in the healing power of prayer, but, as fate would have it, she died 10 days before her birthday which should have been yesterday (December 14th).
Naturally when the going is good for someone rich or in power, he or she is always surrounded by people, loved ones and fair weather friends, but when the going gets rough, they all disappear without trace, leaving only few, true friends around. But in Madam’s case, she was never deserted by people even after her retirement. This shows the kind of conviviality that existed between her and those who crossed her path in life.
She was always surrounded by people wherever she was; even when she travelled and lodged in a hotel, late Oluremi’s room was always filled with visitors.
Her main concern was my welfare and she was always disturbed whenever she noticed that I was losing weight or working too hard.
As if she knew her days was numbered, she called me three days to her death and said for the first time in our many years of friendship that she was calling to greet me and know how I was doing. Incidentally, my mum called her few hours before her death, but by the time she called again in the morning to find out how she was doing as she promised, what she heard was a different voice telling her that madam is gone.
One good thing about her was that she cherished friendship so much that she was always attending peoples’ funerals, weddings and events she was invited to, regardless of the distance and who was organising it even when she was battling the illness that ended her life.
She was the first person I could remember in my life who never forgot friends and family members’ birthdays, wedding anniversaries and never forgot to send Sallah, Xmas and Valentine greetings through text messages.
What more can I say to a woman who taught me that one can get an unconditional love and friendship anywhere and how to cherish such friendship?
Madam was indeed a woman who has given so much to people and got little in return, a woman who was full of surprises and loved surprising people and a woman who quietly touched the hearts of many people in so many ways that only God can reward her.
I pray that those whose hearts she has touched will be at her funeral to pay her the last respect she deserves in her homeland Ogori in Kwara State, continue to pray for her soul to find peace where ever she is and to remember her in their prayers today and forever.
I love and will miss you and your friendship dearly. Adieu, my friend and grandmother.
Maryam is a staff of Peoples Media Limited, Abuja.
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