MARCH 15, 2020: EXPLOSION IN THE CHURCH? The 8.30 am Mass at the Catholic Church of Visitation on First Avenue, FESTAC Town had barely gone midway when the roof almost came down.
Parts of it were blown off in an explosion that left in its trail destruction of lives and property where it happened. The impact on the church building was such that everybody ran for dear life. People didn’t know where the trouble was from. Was it a terror attack? Mayhem ensued. There was a stampede in the church. Mama sat in a row close to the altar. I found a seat upstairs.
In seconds, I rushed down to rescue my mum. Two women who sat close to her advised that I should take her to the hospital immediately. She had gotten up to run like others but was trampled upon in the stampede. The explosion happened at Abule Ado, near FESTAC Town. But the impact was so devastating that even houses beyond FESTAC were affected.
The explosion was loud and we saw part of the roof of the church blown away. In minutes peace returned and I beckoned on mama for us to leave for the hospital. She said no and that she was fine. The woman by her side whispered to me to insist on taking her to the hospital. “She fell and they stepped on her, please take her to the hospital,” the woman told me.
Again, mama bluntly refused.
About 15 minutes later peace reigned and the mass continued. This time, I sat next to her observing her. She appeared unruffled and participated keenly in the order of mass. Shortly after consecration I informed a Reverend Sister that I doubted if mama could walk to the altar for Holy Communion.
I wanted her to receive it where she sat as it is sometimes done for elderly ones. Before I finished my plea to the sister, mama walked up to the altar to receive Holy Communion. Mass over, I hurriedly drove mama to the hospital. After examination the doctor said this: “She is fine, there’s nothing to fear. Mama is a strong woman.”
Those last words, “mama is a strong woman” were apt and possibly one of the best ways to describe Cordelia Ogbonne Anibeze, the matriarch of our place we bid bye today. She was strong in life and strong even in death. Here was a woman so strong that she rarely took ill and was never hospitalised until her final days on earth.
Here was a woman so strong that she did things her own way even in the hospital till she passed on. Here was a woman so strong that she alone soldiered on to lead her children through the Biafran war and beyond, nurturing and training them to who they are today.
Here was a woman so strong that after her husband was killed in the north during the pogrom that led to the Nigerian civil war, she took up the mantle of fathering us and did a pretty good job of it. Discipline was her way of life. And she made us believe there was no other way to live other than hard work, discipline and total devotion to God. Mama saw the rough and good sides of life
Married very early, as a teenager, she quickly had children early and set the mode to enjoy her marriage. That was scuttled by the Nigerian crisis which saw thousands of Igbo massacred in the north, a development that eventually led to the civil war.
My father was one of the victims of the pogrom in the north. He worked for the Railways in many parts of Nigeria and was in Kano when the war broke out. The whole family was actually in Kano but he moved us to the east to enjoy his long vacation with him at home. We were all in Enugu when the killings in the north started. He hurried back to Kano to sort a few things out as he was a senior official. He never made it back.
Till date nobody could account for his body. Nigeria happened to my father and that denied my mother the blues of marriage. Catering for six children became her sole responsibility. On the 30th of May, 1967, Colonel Chukwuemeka Odumegwu Ojukwu, the Governor of Eastern Nigeria declared the State of Biafra and a 30 month civil war ensued. That came with hunger, more killings, so much bloodletting that the world meant nothing to us. But mama was strong. Shortly after the declaration of Biafra, Enugu fell. The Nigerian soldiers were advancing to Enugu after capturing Nsukka.
The recent scenes of war scars seen in Somalia, Rwanda, Liberia, Sierra Leone were first etched in Biafra.
We moved to Okigwe where mama supplied vegetables to kitchens of Biafran military camps while we were in refugee camp. Always a strong woman. That helped but soon Okigwe was about to fall when we moved on foot again to Umuahia. Nobody who has experienced war would crave for it again.
I was only six years old then. Mama did many jobs to put food on our table. But in reality we had no table as, due to circumstances, we had been reduced to a nomadic family held together by the industry of a young widow.
We moved to different areas to escape the bullets and bombings from the federal troops who appeared to be carrying out instructions to kill everybody – both civilians and the military – in Biafra. What’s life when you’re torn between hunger and bullets? That was our case in Biafra but mama was so strong she led us through it even as the agony of seeing many die of kwashiorkor or by the bullets was hurting. Mama moved us to different bunkers to avoid the daily air raids by federal troops. Like the Mother hen, mama provided the needed cover, the food and led in spiritual rejuvenation.
We survived the war and another phase of uncertainty began. How would we begin a new life? We returned to Enugu and found an abode on 47 Onwudiwe Street, Uwani, Enugu. There, mama sold puff-puff and later graduated to selling wrist watches and Ankara wears. Sales were good as many who were haggard as a result of the war wanted a change, to look good.
Mama went to the north to buy wrist watches and Lagos to buy Ankara and Agbada wears. She was also to open a shop at 11 and 13 Onwudiwe Street. Trade grew and we started going to school again. She toiled extremely hard to pay our school fees. Although I did not take this for granted, I started appreciating mama more when I became a father and started paying school fees. Mama was a strong, hard and loving mother.
She worked hard and prayed hard. Her devotion to the Catholic faith and the supremacy of God was remarkable. She showed us the way. Block Rosary, morning Masses were routines we imbibed. Up till her early 80s trekking to morning Mass was a practice that earned her spiritual upliftment and physical fitness. She never went to morning mass in her car. She was a strong woman. Mama served God and the Almighty Father heard her prayers. From a woman that toiled in one room with the children in Uwani, she moved to a decent apartment in New Haven and later owned a house, buying and driving new cars (Not Tokumbo). She was so strong she drove a couple of times to the north from the east in chase of business. Mama was a strong woman.
Her greatest attributes were hard work and prayers. She served God with passion, always saying her rosary and JESUS, I LOVE YOU. She loved, cared for us and all around her. She once went on vacation to London, battled cold and wished our leaders appreciated the weather God blessed us with and worked hard to make Nigeria better. She prayed for this until she passed on, on Christmas eve, December 24, 2024.
“Mama chose Christmas time to return to her Maker. What a lovely woman she was,” Dr. Ngozi Okafor Ndika, my niece said.
Save for the last three months when she returned to Enugu, mama spent her last six years with me in Lagos. They would remain engrained in my memory for the rest of my life. Her prayers and blessings have been tremendous and I wish this end never came. I got to know a few things about my father through her. She told me stories about life in many Nigerian towns including Ofa in Kwara, Zaria where I was born, and Kano, my father’s last posting before they killed him. They went to sports clubs as my father played tennis. She liked it that I took after him in tennis. They went to dance clubs for waltz. My father played tennis at Railway Sports Clubs in those days.
Where are those clubs now? Nigeria happened to them. How I wish this end never came. I take consolation in what I saw when I visited mama at the morgue January 3, 2025. Mama looked calm. The face hadn’t changed. She looked beautiful and strong. I said to myself, even in death, mama remained a strong woman. I touched her and prayed. She was still beautiful, calm as if she was just sleeping. The reality of truly resting in peace dawned on me. The world has lost a beautiful soul but heaven has gained an angel.
Life and death are in the hands of God and His will always prevails. So, with total submission to the will of God, my siblings and I accept this parting that has come for us to meet again where we can part no more. Adieu, my lovely mother. We love you. God loves you more. I say once again, the world has lost a beautiful soul but heaven has gained an angel. Adieu, MAMA
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Michael Onochie Anibeze, 5th son’s tribute as Mrs. Cordelia Ogbonne Anibeze is laid to rest 8 February 2025
