Mother was dear to her children just like any other mother, when one holds oneself by the scruff of the neck to conduct a ruthless self-examination! However, I grew up to love and fear my mother, because she didn’t ever try to hide anything from me, except for once: the death of my brother Ruben Babafemi, who passed on in 1963!
Mother was in the fourth position out of her seven full siblings. Born in 1926, to Pa Ojo-Ologun of Igisan Quarters in Akure. She was from a relatively affluent family by the standard of those days, having a cocoa estate at Ogbese and an all-stone modern house at Areoghene/Ukpasia area of Benin City, complete with a new model Austin Power car in those days, too. He had a private English medical doctor and a lawyer. Yet grand Pa didn’t consider education for a girl child anything of a priority, and he had mostly girls.
Mother was the first to move with my dad to 80 Broad Street, now Oyemekun Road at a time the area was little better than a jungle, except for the Catholic Mission that had St Augustin (now St Peter’s) College, the usual venue for Empire Day sports meetings.
I remember I didn’t quite like mother being referred to as a young woman in those days. But mother had lots of literate family members around her. Uncle Newton Adelana, a town planning official, lived in the house with grandpa (mostly away in Benin City, in his farm estate at Ogbese), while Chief Peter Eke lived vertically opposite. The latter was the first government contractor in Akure, and he kept all documents about births, marriages, and deaths in the family. Hence mother had an accurate date of birth.
Mother enrolled at Miss Marss Adult Education Institute for women. One of her classmates was the first matron/cook at the secondary school I later attended.
Mother had nine children but only four survived her. So, she had her own share of challenges in life. The painful part was the demise of very brilliant Ruben Babafemi, who used to be a model at weekly hospital meetings for nursing mothers in 1963! I was then in faraway Abeokuta for a higher education. As for discipline, my father apparently didn’t seem to mind; but my mother did. Little wonder all her grandchildren, as well as her direct children, were university graduates long before she passed on.
My only regret is: mother in her last days didn’t allow us to serve her, as she fully deserved till, she passed on. Her death was rather sudden after complaining of painful backache within a day or two. On Thursday, 14 September, 2023, mother brushed her teeth herself, had her bath but later collapsed in the toilet, and my youngest sister and I held mother till she gasped out her last breath! Our brother Omotayo soon afterwards rushed into mother’s room still wondering what the old woman would still be doing in the room that morning, only to find out she had passed on. He broke down visibly; but later recovered and got her remains transported instantly to the mortuary. It is on record that Omotayo deliberately moved from Lagos to Akure to be with mother in her last days. And it was his habit to visit every Sunday with a special stew for mother. On her death throes, mother still insisted we shouldn’t bother to summon her son, thinking he would pay his regular visit the following Sunday!
Adieu, mom. To take a tedious leave, thus loving mothers depart.
From Olubodun Fakinlede