EXIT OF AN ICON

Hey there everyone, 

Finally, the last day of 2014 and my last post for the year. Yesterday started with my taking stock of the events of the year. I chose to go with a joyful moment. Later in the day, while reflecting, I realized that my stock taking wouldn't be complete if I shared only my joys and not my sorrows, my trials and tribulations and how God saw me through it all. Someone might just be going through the same problems and looking for a way to overcome and move on with life. As they say; "life is not a bed of roses". There is a proverb aamong my people (the Igbos), that says "afor gbara aka lawa" which this last year go empty handed, don't take any lives. I used to wonder at such a saying. I wondered why they didn't say "this year go with all the bad things you brought upon us".

The story I'm about to narrate was my worst hit for the year. Exactly 2 months and a week after I got married, I got the news of the demise of my dear father-in-law while in the middle of an update course. I can honestly say I was heartbroken. Me! Who barely knew him. I couldn’t imagine what my mother-in-law, my husband or his brothers could be feeling, but I knew they were devastated. If you could say someone lived a good life, then my late father-in-law would be one of those people. By living a good life, I don't mean having fun and throwing parties day in day out. I definitely don't mean drinking, smokin or chasing women like there was a trophy to be won at the end. No, I mean living a life worth emulating. A life of sacrifice and of helping people, touching as many lives as he positively could.

Whatever little I knew of him was confirmed at his burial by family, friends and people whom have been touched by him in one way or the other. Prior to his death, I've had cause to bury my grandparents but I never went into the nitty gritty of what my custom demanded of the bereaved. I already knew that parties were thrown by the bereaved for guests to come and eat, as if it is a celebration. For the first time, I took note of the support offered by friends and relatives. Many came with food and money, others with words of encouragement. I just used to think that everything was left for the affected family to sort out. It used to make me so upset to the point of asking why we couldn't be more like the westerners, who (from movies I've watched), just wear black that day and assemble at the cemetery. Then they go home to meals brought in by friends or not.

Now, when I look by at my father-in-law's burial ceremony, I am happy it turned out the way it did. He was well deserving of it. We had like four asheobi groups including the one worn by us his children. Many singing and dance groups displayed their talents. Usually, a typical Nigerian burial is a 3-day event, and this one was no different.  There is usually the wake-keep (service of songs) which keeps of the process, followed by the burial itself, then the thanksgiving service for a successful burial the next sunday.

Im sorry I don't have any photos from the burial day to share,  we were too upset to "say cheese". Below is a photo from the thanksgiving service. Finally, I decided to make this my last post for the year since we would be exiting 2014, why not a post of an exit to go with it.  Also praying that 2015 would be the bomb! See you there.

Cheers y'all and I wish you a very happy new year!!!!.....