Renowned Lagos-based writer and women and children’s rights advocate, Betty Abah, has penned a deeply moving tribute to her late uncle, Baba Ali, describing his passing as the end of an era and the loss of a family patriarch whose legacy will not be forgotten.
In the heartfelt piece, Abah reflects on cherished childhood memories, family bonds, and the enduring impact Baba Ali had on those around him.
As long as I can remember, Baba Ali remained my mum’s unofficial twin brother. They bore a striking resemblance. He was a constant visitor to Mama—both at home and in her shop. They never argued; they always chatted sweetly.
Moreover, Christmases—the highest points of our childhood—were never complete without visits to our number one spot: Baba Ali’s home in Otukpo, where we received all the goodies—special food and money. He was a jolly good fellow, a man with a large heart.
Yesterday, March 12, that heart stopped beating. He joined the ancestors.
More significantly, we lost the only surviving sibling of my mum. It is truly the end of an era. Baba Ali is no more. That voice is forever silenced, those unforgettable smiles now frozen in living memory—almost four years after the passing of his immediate younger sister, Omoche, my mum.
It feels so surreal.
I will always remember Mr. Ali Achanya Ayegba—fondly called Baba Ali or Achanya Oyi’ Iganya—for his good nature, his sweet smiles, and his calm, calculated approach to life.
He loved the good life and had a great dress sense. He made a fortune as one of the biggest goat sellers in Otukpo. In our younger days, whether at his Zone HB home or at his shop in town, you could always count on receiving a bottle of soft drink and other treats.
He was gentle in life—he spoke softly and loved softly.
He will be sorely missed.
Alas, a living ancestor is lost!
An important link, a symbol of communal institutional memory, a walking encyclopedia of ancient wisdom and indigenous knowledge—a custodian of our prized traditions, a maternal patriarch, and the last one standing of this loving lineage—is gone.
Alas!
Goodbye, Baba Ali—my uncle with the beautiful and gentle smile.
I spoke with you every day for three days before you passed, even just hours before. I had no inkling you were near your end in this unpredictable facet of the great universe.
This was so sudden and unexpected, dear Baba Ali.
Go gently, Baba. Glide peacefully on this divine journey.
May the deep red soil and the people of Ukalegwu-Igwu, Orokam welcome you—amidst thick canopies of palm trees, the chirping of birds and squirrels, and the soothing scent of Mother Nature.
Go softly on this journey. Bear three kola nuts, seven alligator pepper heads, and fresh palm fronds—totems for the silent trip.
Greet Mama Omoche, your beloved sister—our dear mother—for us.
Greet Inne Iganya, your mother—our amazing granny.
Greet Inne Onyega, our beautiful aunt.
Greet Uncles Oche and Joseph, and Grandpa Ayegba—whom we never met.
And greet all those we have lost to the cold hands of the Inevitable One.
From earth we came, and to the earth we shall inevitably return.
We give solemn thanks to God—the Father of the living and the dead, the Unquestionable Time Keeper.
We are heartbroken, yet we celebrate your sweet life.
May your memory remain a blessing.
May your beautiful smiles remain ever heartwarming to us, our dear Baba Ali.
😭
Comments
Post a Comment