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32 <strong>—</strong> Vanguard, TUESDAY, AUGUST 4, 2020 A tribute to my mother By VICTOR NDOMA-EGBA WHERE do I start about my mother, my friend, my confidante, my playmate, my soul mate, my pillar, my teacher, my everything? Start however I must. Mama was my very first teacher in every sense. She trained as a teacher and was one of the first four Ikom (now Ikom, Boki and Etung ) women to receive western education. I started following her to St. Martins Primary School, Ikom where she then taught long before I was eligible to start school. In my days your right hand had to touch your left ear over your head before you could qualify to be registered in school. By the time I could achieve this I already could read and write so I had a head start. When I eventually could touch my left ear with my right hand I started school in January 1962.Mama took Ndifon Nkom Nku (now Dr. Victor Nkom), late Richard Eno , late Aroma Brown and I to school to school on our first day and she was our first teacher. The others were children of her friends. I remember her holding a pair of tiny hands in each of her hands. It was a remarkable day. Being the son of the class teacher naturally drew attention to me. This was in addition to my young age and physical size. The bell had announced break time and as usual with children our excitement was noisy as we ran out of the tedious classroom to the brief respite outside. I joined a group of my new classmates at play. Promptly an older boy from a senior class singled me out and hit me without reason. I cried to my mother who was at her desk in the classroom and reported what happened. She came out and mock smacked the boy after hearing him out. This gave me satisfaction which was short lived as almost as soon as my mother left the scene another boy hit me. I immediately ran to her again. This time she studiously ignored me and my complaint. I left to rejoin the group at play deflated and disappointed. Not long the bell announced the end of the break. As I made my way back to the classroom yet another boy, this time one of my new classmates, hit me. I again went to my mother. This time she waited for the class to settle down before calling me out to the front and gave me six strokes of the cane on my buttocks. It was the first time my mother would use the cane on me, and also the last time. She told me in front of the class that if in thirty short minutes three different people hit me, all three of them could not be the problem but me and warned that should that happen again my punishment would be more severe. It never happened again. I learnt never to be the odd one out, to fight my causes and take responsibility for myself and actions. I thenceforth avoided confrontations but did not run away from them. I was never again bullied. I sharpened my tongue as weapon in case physical strength failed me. She was strict but fair, a disciplinarian who at the same time allowed children to express themselves within clearly defined moral boundaries. She bore her pains with equanimity. She concealed her tears but shared her smiles. She trusted God absolutely, sacrificed and exerted herself to the very limits of her every endowment for her three sons, Kenneth, Victor and Roy. She was broken each time a relations child failed to choose education first as she was worried that her children could only be secure if those around them were also educated. She harangued and pushed, she argued and cried, begged and harassed for children, especially the girl child to go to school. She was an activist for girl child education but lacked today’s tools for mass mobilization for her cause but deployed every available weapon in her time. She badly wanted daughters through her sons to replace the one she lost whom she had already named Constance. She wanted to see her lost daughter in her sons’ wives, grandchildren and other relatives, and looked for her in all of them. She saw her in some and did not in others. She was a torch bearer, a trailblazer who •Ndoma-Egba set the standards for her generation. She was as gorgeous as she was bold. She dared where he peers demurred. In 1960 she contested elections into the office of Chairman of Ikom County Council (now Ikom, Boki and Etung Local Governments) on the platform of the defunct NCNC. She won and became the first female chairman of a County Council ( now Local Government) in the then Eastern Region of Nigeria, and indeed the entire country from 1960 to 1963. She was only thirty years old but left towering and indelible legacies. She believed that one was not successful until others looked up to and depended you. She believed that hard work and character should be the only path to the top. I recall how when Kenneth and I were in Primary School she bought us torch lights as there was no electricity then. She would wake both of us late in the night to read and tell her what we had read before going back to sleep. She did not cut corners and hated pettiness. Her tongue was her major weapon which you employed generously to encourage, to comfort, to reassure and to correct. She was a lady in every way, a lady of grace, character and dignity. She always walked tall, showed love and respect to all irrespective of age or status. Though petite in stature her presence was always overwhelming. She was blunt and spoke the truth always no matter whose ox was gored. She was a woman of great courage, strength and versatility. I recall the civil was years. Less than three weeks before her death, Roy and his wife Amelia and Amaka and I had spent five days with her. Though ill she still had her faculties and wit totally intact. She remained humorous to the very end. She was ready to meet her Maker She was strict but fair, a disciplinarian who at the same time allowed children to express themselves within clearly defined moral boundaries and she discussed her burial with us. She said we had celebrated her during her life time and had looked after well and that she wanted a quiet and simple burial. A mother’s love is incomparable. It is like no other relationship. It is unconditional. That was Mama. The measure of our lives is not the length of our years but the life in the years; it is not what we got but what we gave. God blessed her with length of years, life in every one of those years and she gave her all to family, community, humanity and the Almighty in whose bosom she certainly has earned eternal rest. De Mama, Achi Nentui, Achi Nyanga, yours was a life indeed, rich, full and worthy. It was a life of peace, peace of mind and soul, peace with people and environment, and a life of contentment. Tume oyiyi. Nwunene Mmam, rest in peace as you live in our hearts. Thank you for the memories and the lessons. Farewell Sweet Mother, farewell woman of virtue and substance, a pioneer, a legend. You are now of the ages as you close an age and a generation. •Ndoma-Egba is former Senate Leader in the 9 th National Assembly and former chairman of the Niger Delta Development Commission, NDDC. TRIBUTE Adieu, Baba Sama BY MOHAMMED ISA FINALLY, the day is here. The day I have feared all along and always prayed that it should never come, though I knew it will ultimately come. The day that, whenever I thought of it, I always nursed the wishful thinking that it will immediately vanish. It is the day that with shaking fingers and teary eyes, I would have to write a memorial tribute to someone that I have been closely related with in my entire life, the late Mallam Ismaila Isa Funtua. As my father’s younger brother, I grew up to know Baba Sama, as we fondly called him within the family circle as an uncle who over the years metamorphosed to a father, teacher, mentor, confidant, adviser and above all, my pillar of support. Baba Sama before his return to his creator on July 20, 2020 meant different things to different people. But for me, he meant one thing – My Backbone - which makes it difficult for me to, in one breath, describe him or relate my experiences with him. His major impact on my life as an adult was changing the course of my carrier to the journalism profession through cajoling and persistent advice. In doing that, he got a helping hand in my two former bosses at the defunct Democrat Newspapers, the late Mallam Abdulkarim Al- Bashir and former Chief of Staff to the President, the late Mallam Abba Kyari. I was at The Democrat on student industrial attachment from Kaduna Polytechnic as student of Printing Technology when Baba was the Managing Director, Al-Bashir as Editorin-Chief and Kyari as Editor and was naturally deployed to the Production Department of the company where I was expected to gain the practical knowledge related to my course. Mallam Ismaila always deferred to superior reasoning, no matter his stand on a matter However, with the guidance and support of some editorial staff, particularly Ali Mohammed Sabi’u (presently Kaduna State correspondent of Tribune), I started writing articles on politics and other national issues and later on “graduated” into writing news stories, an expedition that made the late Baba to sustain his efforts in convincing me to switch to journalism. He was later joined in the push by late al-Bashir and Kyari until I succumbed after completing my course in Printing. By formally becoming a journalist and joining the News Agency of Nigeria, NAN, I became closer to Baba by frequenting his house mostly at his invitation, or while unable to visit chat on phone on national issues, particularly politics. When I opted to resign from NAN and join the Peoples Daily newspaper, Baba didn’t object though he had his reservations but gave me his blessings when I told him my decision and my reasons. His reaction to my career move was typical of Mallam Ismaila. He always deferred to superior reasoning, no matter his stand on a matter. As politics correspondent and later political editor of Peoples Daily, Baba gave me all the support needed by becoming one of my reliable sources of getting or confirming a news story. Apart from journalism, my close relationship with him taught me several life lessons such as virtue of loyalty and honesty in every dealing, particularly in political office. The day I told him that former Speaker of the House of Representatives, Alhaji Aminu Waziri Tambuwal, offered me appointment as his Special Assistant on Print Media, his admonishment was: “Muhammadu, he (Tambuwal) gave you this job based on trust therefore hold it in trust too. Never betray him for whatever reason; be honest with him and maintain absolute loyalty to him, no matter the circumstances”. It was the same charge he repeated to me when former Senate President, Dr. Abubakar Bukola Saraki, offered me similar job as his Special Assistant on Public Affairs and even in my present appointment as Special Assistant on Media and Publicity to the incumbent •The late Mallam Ismaila Funtua with Isa Senate President, Dr. Ahmad Lawan. I remember vividly the anger in his face when sometime in 2014, over a lunch, I expressed my bitterness on how he released one of his property in Kaduna for Mallam Nasir el-Rufai to use it as a campaign office considering the humiliation he suffered in the hands of the Governor when he was FCT minister. El-Rufai had demolished the head office of Baba’s company against a valid court order, and as if that was not enough, el-Rufa’i dedicated pages in his book, Accidental Public Servant to rain insults on Baba and denigrated his person. “And here you are giving him your property for his campaigns free of charge, making us your sympathisers looking like fools,” I blurted out in anger. Baba’s response after a deafening silence for some minutes not only made me change my stand on the issue but also taught me a lesson for life. He calmly and in uncharacteristically low voice said: “Muhammadu, you are right to be angry, but as a father, I strongly advise you never to repay evil with evil. Always strive to do good to those who did bad to you as that is the only way you will express your appreciation to Allah for elevating you above your detractors.” Baba’s legacy within the extended family of late Isan Ammani is legendary as in spite of his status, influence and affluence, he remained accessible to all and sundry always giving a listening ear and helping hand to each and every one of us, thus becoming our rallying point. Baba, we will be eternally grateful for that. No doubt, late Mallam Ismaila Isa was one of the pillars of the Buhari administration but he was greatly misunderstood as during many of our conversations he would express his displeasure at some happenings in the country. He would lament and express his frustrations to the extent that I will begin to wonder if he was actually as influential as many believed he was in the government. Enormous pressure Whenever I suggested that he could intervene if he felt that strongly about any issue, he would just say: “Muhammadu, governance is not for one individual, not even the President, and remember, I don’t hold any political office.” My inability to convince the late Baba in spite of the enormous pressure I mounted on him to author a biography is one of my greatest regrets. The present generation and generation yet unborn have lost an opportunity to have benefit from the numerous experiences and stories of political intrigues and calculations as Mallam Ismaila was a key participant in the nation’s power game for many decades. He was an encyclopedia on the nation’s political journey and history. Even my decision to enlist the assistance of his son, Abubakar, and Mallam Mahmud Jega of Daily Trust could not help in getting Baba to work on his biography. Now the reality has dawned on me, that Baba, like all mortals, has answered the call of his creator as we will all do. I know the coming days and months will not be easy as I have already started missing those night long calls that made Aunty (his wife) to nickname me information minister, the weekly Friday lunch with other family members and the jokes and banters I always shared with Baba as if I am his grandchild not a nephew. Our only consolation is that at 78, Baba Sama not only lived long but lived well in every aspect, particularly in positively impacting on the lives of many people, some of whom he himself did not even know. Allah ya jikan, Baba Sama. •Isa wrote from Abuja.
Vanguard, TUESDAY, AUGUST 4, 2020 <strong>—</strong> 33
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