Chief (Mrs) A. A. Ojo
I remember making a journal entry in February and describing Okengwe as the place of some of my fondest childhood memories. It really was and Grandma, Chief (Mrs) A. A. Ojo, was a huge part of those memories.
One memory that readily comes to mind happened during one of those long vacations I spent in Okengwe. Many of my cousins were around, the Ochus and their cousins too. It was a full house and I enjoyed it. I learnt to play jackpot, had a big crush on two brothers, got psychologically scarred by an angry chicken, and most importantly got to really see my Grandma.
One day, as Iya Ijo concerned, my Grandma announced that she had a women’s meeting and would be out most of the day. She asked us to eat for the morning and afternoon. Grandma stuffed our plates with gallons of Pap and several balls of Akara, backed up with fried plantain. A lot of food that was, but we were eating for two installments so it was all good.
By noon, guess who was back, huffing and puffing that her grandchildren will be hungry? My Grandma! It was comical because some of us still had cups of unfinished pap hidden under the bed as we played jackpot. Grandma didn’t mind us. She rushed into the kitchen and came out with lovingly prepared okro soup made up of okro divided into twos. Of course, we ate the large chunks of okro with love and reported to the nearest adult to help us redo the soup.
Now it is all a memory. Or memories. The shouts, the food, the stories of my stubborn mother, the women prayer meetings, the waves. All memories.
I remember Grandma as the most loving old woman I have met. She always had something to give, even if it was a piece of meat hidden away. Her love is seen in her children and the several stories they tell about her. From our Matriarch (Mummy Okene) who holds it all together so well to Honourable who caters to much more than his family, to Prophetess who has taken over Grandma’s title of Iya Ijo to Aunty Debo ( my favourite human) who always has a kind word for all those in need and Uncle Ojay of Lagos who still tells the best stories- it is evident you did a good job of raising your children.
I shed a few selfish tears when I was in Okengwe in February because the place of some of my favourite childhood memories was not the same anymore and Grandma didn’t recognise me. But I still saw my Grandma in the old woman I looked at, still so kind, still so caring. Sharing the basket of fruits given to her from the engagement even before the ceremony was over and asking me if I had eaten, three times in one hour. That’s my Grandma. That’s Chief (Mrs) A. A. Ojo.
Rest well Grandma
