A tribute to Christopher Nwogbo Ekweozoh

Hello Daddy,
How are you doing over there in the company of the angels and the saints? I can only imagine how beautiful it must be joining the choirs of angels and saints in perpetual worship and adoration of our lord and saviour Jesus Christ, who is seated at the right hand of God, our Father, together with the Holy Spirit, our Paraclete. You always loved God in his fullness – Father, Son and Holy Ghost – so I can imagine the glow on your face, the light in your eyes, the joy in your heart, at beholding and partaking of such heavenly glory. So, enjoy the bliss, Daddy, enjoy ! For you fought the good fight, now you have your crown of glory. Enjoy!

Over here, we are a little conflicted. Although you took time to prepare us for your departure, we were still not ready when you left, still not prepared to let you go. Now we are happy that you are at peace, happy that you are resting in the bosom of the lord. But we are sad that you are no longer with us; sad that we can no longer see your gentle face, behold your charming smile, enjoy your pleasant company and be enveloped in your warm embrace; sad that we can no longer laugh with you, chat with you, tell you our worries … face to face. Still, we are comforted by what you left behind…and you left a lot.

You left us mummy – your strong, dependable, Christian wife of 53 years, our mother. Although she is heartbroken, and will miss you dearly for the rest of her life, we know the lord will comfort her and strengthen her, and we can count on her strength, her never-ending prayers, her love and her continued guidance. You left us each other. And though we have our differences, and may not always agree, we can lean on each other, comfort each other, draw strength from each other, encourage one another, pray for one another.
For me, specially, you left your beautiful daughter – my wife, Uchechukwu Vivian – to continue to love and to hold, until that day when we shall join you and the rest of the heavenly hosts in paradise, to part no more.

You also left us a multitude of grateful friends, family members and relatives who speak glowingly of the man that you were and testify that you were among the best they ever met. But most especially, you left us in the company of God, whom you loved so dearly and taught us to embrace so passionately, with all our hearts, all our might, all our souls. And because you made sure, by your constant nudging and your life’s example, that we chose God’s corner, we know that we will be fine, all of us – your wife, children, brothers, sisters, in-laws, relatives, friends. We know, because you always reminded us, that whoever has God has everything he or she needs.
Thank you Daddy, for the man that you were, and the lessons that you taught us. Thank you for being such a gentle, kind, thoughtful, considerate and loving man.

Thank you for teaching us to follow your footsteps, to love one another like you loved us, to love our neighbours like you loved them.
Thank you for blessing us with your presence down here for those many glorious years, and for all that you were, all that you did and all that you left us with. Thank you daddy, we shall forever be grateful.

And thank you for giving me your daughter, for accepting me into your family as your son; thank you for loving me like a son, for loving me like you loved your children. I remember the first time I walked into your presence in Nawfia nearly 20 years ago. Your gentle smile, your warm handshake, and your soft, peaceful voice made me feel immediately welcome. And for those many years that I knew you, that signature smile, that freely given handshake, that soft, gentle voice remained your hallmark. They never faded; they never waned.

I never once saw you frown, never heard you raise your voice in anger, never caught you in a foul mood. You were always gentle, always calm, always kind, always thoughtful, always considerate, always happy. Yet, you were firm, fearless and courageous. You said what had to be said, when they needed to be said, and you did what had to be done, when they needed to be done. But it was how you said them with love and tenderness, how you did them with consideration for the other guy, that I will continue to learn to emulate as a man.

You corrected wrongdoing without beating anybody down, you admonished people without trampling on their emotions. You hated to see sad faces, and made every effort to make everyone around you feel happy and loved, even when you had tough words for them. You cared about people, Daddy, and you loved everybody. I am modelling myself after you day by day, trying to be the man that you were, the angel that God made you.

Today, we are gathered here to celebrate you, all of us – your still very beautiful wife, Grace NwijeEkweozoh, our mother; your children – biological and non-biological, your grandchildren, your brothers, sisters, relatives, and the many people whose lives you touched so warmly, so positively in so many different ways. We are all here. Many of your friends are here too – the ones from work, from church, from the many groups you belonged and from the neighbourhood, from far and from near. They are all here.

All are here to honour you for the man that you were, the things that you did, the words that you spoke, the lessons that you taught, and the life that you lived. We are all here Daddy, and although our eyes are misty, our hearts heavy, we have not come to mourn you, we have come to celebrate you, to honour you, to applaud you, to pray for you.

We – your children, grandchildren, sons-in-law, brothers, sisters and relatives – make you a promise today: We will be fine.
Many families disintegrate at the passing of their patriarch. Some split into factions and little turf wars begin. The once peaceful home becomes divided, the family house deserted, even left desolate, as peace disappears and strife reigns.

We make you a promise Daddy; we will not be that family. We will be fine. Although we will have our differences, we will take your lessons on tolerance, on compromise, on harmony, on peace, on love, and we shall let them guide us. We may disagree but we will not quarrel. If we quarrel, we will not fight. We will nip in the bud whatever tries to divide us and resolve whatever tries to come between us. We will always find common ground. We will be fine.

You taught your children well Daddy, by the force of your personal example. Those of us who are joiners to your family, you taught us the same way. We know that all those virtues in full display through your life will lead us to soldier on, even now that you are no longer with us physically. So, go ahead Daddy, rest and do not stress over there. Rest, knowing that you did your work well, so we will be fine.
I call you Daddy, but the world calls you Ezekwesili. Ezekwesili, fit to be king! As indeed you were. Rest!

You were a Soldier for Christ, a Knight of the Church, of the Order of Mulumba. Rest!
You have run your race, the rest is left to us, your children, your offspring. Rest! Rest, nnaanyi, dalurinne. Rest!
Until we meet again, to part no more, rest!
Ga n’udo. K’omesia. Rest!

From Declan Okpalaeke; husband to your beautiful daughter, Uche
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