The night of April 1st, 2022, is still fresh in my memory, like it happened yesterday. It was the day my beloved mother, Eunice Ndanusa Isaiah, passed away at the age of 80, leaving our family in sorrow. While some may say that 80 is a ripe old age, losing a loved one, especially a parent who played an important role in our lives, is never easy. We always want to see our parents live forever to witness our success in life.
My mother’s death came just 15 months after my elder brother, Sam Nda- Isaiah, the chairman of LEADERSHIP Media Group, passed away. It was indeed a trying time for our family, with back-to-back losses that shook us to our core. My mother, in particular, was deeply affected by my brother’s death, and it was nothing short of a miracle that she lived for more than a year after his passing.
My mother was born during the Easter period, got married during the Easter period, and died during the Easter period. Her life was a life of victory – she came, saw, and conquered.
There is no doubt that my mother was the pillar of our family, the one holding us together. From her death to the burial ceremony, everything felt surreal. I kept expecting to be woken up from the bad dream until we got to the cemetery. It was then that the reality of her passing finally dawned on me. We buried my mother beside my father, grandfather, and grandmother in Minna. The most eerie coincidence of all was that, apart from my grandfather who died at the age of 90, my grandmother and parents both died at the age of 80.
If selflessness were a person, it would be my mother. She sacrificed everything for her children and always put everyone’s interests above her own.
There is a popular saying that generosity is not about your status or deep pockets, but about your heart; it comes naturally. That’s the perfect description of my mother. She was generous to a fault and was constantly giving the little she had to her children, relatives, and everyone else. Even when we told her to stop and that we should take care of her, it didn’t deter her. She gave till her last breath.
Many things have happened in the last year that made me miss my mother. The major one was my brother Emma’s wedding, which she had looked forward to eagerly. On the day of the traditional wedding, I imagined her at the place, smiling and happy that her dream had been fulfilled. Even at the church wedding, her image loomed larger everywhere. When it was time for the new couple to take pictures with the groom’s parents, I was enveloped with sadness. This was the first time we would be having a major wedding or celebration without our parents, and it was not a good feeling. But again, I am consoled by the fact that my parents and brother will be smiling down from heaven because the wedding was successful.
Another major thing that made me miss my mother was the political season. Being married to a journalist, my mother was always on top of any news story, more current than most serving journalists. She always listened to news on the radio and TV. You could hardly beat her to any current news story. I guess my father, being a journalist all his life, contributed significantly to that. When I saw her death announced in many newspapers and online media, it was a fitting tribute to a news woman. President Muhammadu Buhari had issued a statement expressing his condolences to the family, and has even sent a delegation led by the Minister of Information, Lai Mohammed, to offer their condolences.
I cannot help but imagine all the phone calls I would have had with my mother during the presidential primary of the All Progressive Congress (APC) and Peoples Democratic Party (PDP).And the subsequent presidential election and the ruckus it has generated .
I also recall the security alert issued by the United States Embassy in October of last year, warning of an elevated risk of terror attacks in Abuja. If my mother were still alive, she would have been calling all of her children in Abuja every thirty minutes to ensure that we were safe at home. Throughout the period of unease in Abuja, I would have received countless calls from her.
One thing that my siblings and I will miss about our mother is her constant communication. She was always present in our lives and we were constantly in touch on the phone. She would speak to all of her children and grandchildren constantly. Every Saturday, we would visit her and she would give my children and her other grandchildren money for their Sunday offerings.
As we mark the one-year remembrance of her passing today, I am comforted by the fact that we are still standing strong, with nothing missing and nothing broken. There is nothing more to do than to give thanks to God for sustaining and protecting our family for the past year and the years to come.
