We love and miss you Aunty.

I last saw ‘Aunty ‘Mire’ (pictured carrying me as a baby) in 2018 when we went to Ibadan, Nigeria to celebrate her 80th birthday. I had no idea it would be the last time that I see her face to face. During that time I was privileged to spend time with her, I slept in the same bed with her, cared for her and loved on her.

I had taken on the challenge of designing the event branding and the most enjoyable part for me was reading through all the kind and loving words that everyone shared about her. I am so happy that she received her flowers while she was still here with us. Now I am working on her funeral programme and can’t believe she is gone.

When I called to speak to her when I heard she was not doing too good, I asked her how she was feeling and she said “I am tired.” She looked so frail. So when I was told she was up the next day saying she was hungry and asking for amala of all things, I was shocked. Little did we know it was one for the road; one of her favourite meals, one more time, to strengthen her for the journey that she was about to embark on. She asked for wine, chocolate, eggs and sausages in her final days. All of her favourite things.

She also asked about her late husband Uncle Emman, as well as her late siblings. As though she could see them. At that point I knew it was time to say goodbye. I felt heavy. Sensing that no one was ready to let her go, she fought a good fight and selflessly stuck around and reassured us until we all made our peace with the fact that her time had come.

So when my cousin Mel told me that aunty said “they” were dancing and that she was ready to go and dance with “them”, I felt an overwhelming sense of peace. I pray it was the angels welcoming her with open arms, owambe style because my aunty was full of life and loved to party!

The irony of life is that even as she ascended, her first grand child delivered what would have been her fifth great grandchild on the same day and I was gifted with the privilege of giving him his first bath when he came home. I am finding joy and trying to see the beauty in that.

To my dear aunt who was born and bred in Sierra Leone but adopted Naija like no other, the person responsible for my parents naming me “Oluwapamilerin” as their only child after 8 years of marriage meaning “God makes me laugh”, the one who I’m told put alligator pepper in my mouth and implored me to never be afraid to use my mouth to fight for what is right and to defend myself, I love you and miss you dearly.

Please tell Grandma Eku, Grandpa Syl, Aunty Doris, Aunty Olive, and Uncle Syl that we love and miss them dearly too. Please keep watch over my dear mother and protect her and may dad and I find the wisdom and grace that we need to best support her at this time. She needs you all now more than ever and as the last one standing, she misses you all dearly.