In Loving Memory of My Aunt
AUGUST 23, 2011
"THOUGH SHE DIES, SHE LIVES ON
Ifesinachi Ugwuonye
– Iloputaife
She was called Mrs. Ukanyionu
Bridget Agu – Nee Ugwuonye (a.k.a. Nwa Ugwuonye)
She was the silent sufferer, the
proverbial rejected stone …
She was born the daughter of a
king, a Princess – to Chief Ezeani Ugwuonye of Umumba Ndi-Uno, Ezeagu L.G.A. in
Enugu State
Married to the Agu family in
Umuogazi, Orji Amokwe, Udi LGA, also in Enugu State
But she lived the life of a servant – she labored so that others could feed.
She was as strong as a horse,
yet as meek as a lamb
She was the silent voice that
sang the loudest tone, and the unseen hands that did all the hard work
She gave of herself so that
others could profit and be happy
She represented many persons in
one, and carried the responsibilities as if she enjoyed suffering
She was an aunt, a father, a
mother, a friend, a defender, a consoler, a comforter, and much more
She was an Angel whose prayers
were for the good of others
A peacemaker and a warrior in
one being
As long as she lived, my father
remained alive
She was the last link to my
father, her brother, who died so tragically when I was too young to remember
him. But his sister, my aunt, kept him alive in my mind and eyes
It so happens that with her
demise in the early hours of today, August 23, 2011, my father also died
She was my strength, my
inspirer, my caregiver, my parent, my friend, my family, my mentor
She wore honesty like her own
skin and she loved unconditionally and completely
She was the POWER of BLOOD exemplified.
In the face of persecution, she persevered;
In the face of hardship, she was
strengthened
She gave back love and
understanding; as she was mocked, she prayed for her enemies, and rejoiced at
their good fortune.
In her success, she remained
humble; in her trials, she gave glory to God.
She was indeed a saint; I cannot remember her seeking vengeance.
She believed that the only true
vengeance is success.
Yes, indeed, there are some
people that should never die; my aunt was one such person.
At over 85 years old, she died
with the innocence of a child. She will be missed so much
I am so pained in her loss, but
so inspired by her life.
My only regret is that she left before I came back. But in my last conversation with her few weeks back, she did promise she would wait for me to come back, then she concluded by saying –“Don’t worry about a thing; all is well,” and stressed –“Do you hear me?” in her weak yet strong voice. She probably knew she would not be home when I return.
Adieu, my dearest aunty; may you
rest in peace with your brother, my father.