SHE was tall, exceptionally tall in the exemplary virtues which she practiced to the admiration of her children and others. She perceived motherhood as a precious gift which should be celebrated and rewarded because humanity owes its survival to that gift. She was always consumed by the passion to enthrone lasting values in the society and to promote the common good. She lived for the others and was always ready to serve the others. With her unfailing Christian faith, hope and optimism, she comforted many who sought her advice. Her faith, moderation, grace, serenity and comportment endeared her to the hearts of many.

In case you are still guessing, the lady I am referring to is no other person than Mrs. Theresa Ukochukwu Ekwowusi, my Mum and my best friend, who died in Lagos on Friday, May 3 2013 having borne her illness with exemplary Christian equanimity and resignation to the Will of God.  During her pilgrimage on earth, she relished being addressed as simply Ukochukwu (a go-between, or, put differently, an advocate, or, a mediator between God and man). And she truly lived to the bidding of this her middle name.

Ukochukwu’s vivacious spirit and faith enabled her to accept and bear her sufferings. She believed that God who loved her so much and knew why she had to undergo so much pain could heal her if He wanted. Therefore, she put her whole trust in God.

My Mum had a deep sense of justice. She believed that justice is the vital thread that knits human society together. She condemned injustices meted out to others. She corrected many wrongs.  A conscientious Christian humanist, my Mum readily hearkened to the assistance of her suffering relatives and neighbours. She saw herself as a sort of an advocate who pleaded the cause of others. In fact, she took many socio-cultural and religious problems of the others and made them her own in order to solve them.

Ukochukwu lived the virtue of hard work. She dedicated her entire life to the fulfillment of her ordinary duties. All those who lived with her would readily attest that she was a workaholic. She finished her job. She set a high target for herself in her job. She detested idleness. Small wonder she ensured that all those who lived with her or were in contact with her were busy doing one work or the other. For example, in those critical days in which she was critically ill and Nkorika my sister obtained permission from her employer in order to be by her bedside, my mother would always remind her that she had to quickly go back to her workplace. In the same manner, whenever I went straight from the office to see her, she always insisted I must go back to my duty post on time to continue my work.

Growing up, I was a naughty boy, a never-do-well and the scum of the earth. It was not expected that I would grow up. I was despised. I was rejected and abandoned by my immediate world. But my mother, like a sweet mother, borrowing the phrase of the late high-life music maestro, Prince Nico Mbarga, took very care of me. She nursed me, fed me with my best food and cleaned the tears rolling down my cheeks. She charted a clear good path for me to follow. “The family, writes the American Jew Jonathan Sacks, is an age-old bond that holds a power greater than we dream.” The family values inculcated in us really formed the superstructure of my ethos and my behaviour up to this day. For example, it was part of our family tradition to return home before nightfall. And to date, I always feel uneasy each time I find myself staying away from home late in the night. In those occasions in which I failed my primary school exams and returned home wearing a victim complex as if the teachers purposely failed me, my Mum would not always rebuke me but would insist I must work hard in school. I dare say that I owe the ideals, which I am struggling to live today, to my Mum.

Perhaps Ukochukwu will be most remembered for her public-spiritedness and concern for the others. She was a woman who never sat back and did nothing to remedy the human misery and human deprivation around her. She dedicated the greater part of her life to praying for the others as well as sharing their anxieties, hopes and aspirations. She brokered many disputes involving her kinsmen and women and village folks. She consoled the sick, the sorrowful and wept for the suffering and the dead. She opened her door for strangers and the socially uprooted.

Even in her sick bed at the hospital she never hesitated a moment in showing concern for the socio-economic and spiritual well being of the others. For example, in keeping with her simplicity of life, she welcomed all who came to see her at the hospital. She maintained a contagious smile even though she had not slept the previous night and was wriggling in pains. She would willingly join a nurse who had sauntered in in chorusing a hilarious native hymn or a religious hymn. Sister Mary, a generous religious sister of the Catholic Church, who habitually came to the hospital to pray and comfort her, repeatedly told me, “Your mother is such a cheerful woman”.

“The work of dying well is, in largest part, the work of living well,” writes Richard John Neuhaus in his memorable book, As I Lay Dying. Certainly, Ukochukwu lived well and has died well too. Her exemplary life would always be a model for me, my siblings and others.