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Remembering a mother’s well-lived life

My mother, Morenike Olatorera Coker, was one-of-a-kind. A strong woman, yet one of the kindest I’ve ever known. A disciplinarian, yet so loving. When I was young and had my ‘naughty episodes’, the smacking I received at times made me doubt she was my biological mother, but then again the same hands that smacked me would hug me and explain why I was punished and a treat would follow. By age 10, I never got smacked again as my mother understood that I was a sensitive child that words were enough to correct.

All my life, true love and what love should be came in form of my mother and true beauty was hers, too – she was crowned Miss Nigeria in 1969 – and looking at the pictures I took of her post-lockdown in August 2020, I see that she got more beautiful as she aged. She also loved and served the Lord with all her heart and she never had the trauma of burying a child or grandchild. Her family – children, siblings and adopted children and grandchildren – were her world, along with her church.

I had the pleasure and privilege of having my mother move to my house about five years ago after episodes with housemaids at her own home, a decision I am today grateful for. When a parent takes care of you from age 0-21 – and in truth for the rest of your life – with their check-ups, prayers and at times financial bailouts, the least you can do is take care of them in their old age. Five years ago, I promised that I’d sacrifice 6 weeks every February/March to travel with her wherever she wishes and just enjoy the time. Little did I know I’d be creating lifelong memories that would keep me strong when she left this earth. On one trip in 2017 we visited six cities in the United States where she visited various cousins and her best friend from her childhood, who had relocated to Atlanta.

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My earliest memories of my mother was that of a woman that was always helping people; from the pepper seller’s child’s school fees to a relative’s plans to travel. And my mother was always giving. Back in the day when it’s Christmas, lots of gifts are sent to the house, and my mother’s next action was to ‘redistribute’ some to those who really needed them. Giving was a ‘thing’ for her. As a child, I could not attend a children’s party if I had no gift (we had a store cupboard in the house with gifts; you just had to match the recipient with one) and a card, of course. As I cleared her room upon her passing, there were cards she’d prepared for Christmas that never went out, though many had been distributed already. She never forgot anyone’s birthday or anniversaries, and she was my human calendar and reminder.

Being a single parent to three children, life wasn’t always easy but my mother made it look easy. We had a special bond and I remember at times I knew she would empty her account to pay for something I or one of my siblings needed. God blessed her, she always told me that as a businesswoman she ‘pre-paid’ her tithe and God always honoured her. While schooling in England as a child, my mother made out time to come visit, and send birthday and holiday treats.

A mother will do anything to provide for her children, and my siblings and I never lacked. And if we couldn’t have it, she honestly couldn’t afford it, she’d explain. Another fond memory was on my return from schooling in England and while starting school here in Nigeria in readiness for secondary school, we visited Leventis/Kingsway every other weekend where I’d have to pick a book and have to recount it in two weeks before getting my next one. Thus a reading culture was built!

Secondary school kept me away from home and she had to relocate for a few years for health reasons. As I graduated from the Nigerian Military School in Zaria, she returned and I had done well in my WAEC, the plan was for me to school in the UK but the cost was above her means and I settled for the prestigious Ahmadu Bello University – a decision I’m grateful for as I made some lifelong friendships there.

From my form 1 all the way till I graduated from university, and for many years after, my mother always reminded me to remember whose child I was and never to bring her or my father’s family shame. She reminded me on the importance of honesty, truth and faith in God. Many times as a grown man, I’d lament to her that I’m not where I want to be, and she would smile and say ‘You’re exactly where God wants you to be, and in time you will get the place you feel you deserve. Never look at others, or work with the timings of others. We all have a time, season and purpose.’ And I’d smile.

My mother also believed in hard work and accountability. If I bought a new car, she needed to know-how, which she would find ways to double-check. A new, expensive watch needed an explanation. If the explanation was not sound, uncles and aunties will definitely be calling. A good name is worth more than riches, she would always tell me. What I’ll miss most will be her wise counsel and constant encouragement and support.

I always playfully called her ‘my secretary’, as she knew where everything was, constantly reminded me of things to be done, etc. But mostly, her prayers. Many years ago, she sat me down and explained the power of ‘The Lord’s Prayer’. If you’re too tired to pray, simply recite the Lord’s Prayer. I’m thankful for her life, as it’s one well-spent. I’m also thankful she didn’t suffer at the end but died peacefully. And I’m most grateful as I know she’s gone to be with her maker. She loved the Lord! If you ever called her and asked ‘How are you, mummy?’ Her response would be: ‘I’m bubbling in the Lord’. And now she truly is.

Tafawa-Balewa wrote in from Abuja.

 

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