Lydia Njoh Takem

I have so much to say about our mother, but my heart is too heavy, and my emotions are in turmoil. Our senior brother Mike is equally overwhelmed. He has asked me to speak for the family. It is difficult to deliver a eulogy for a woman who gave you life. I am too grief-stricken. I will never find the right words to describe this experience, but I must pull myself together to speak a few words about this wonderful woman God blessed us with as our mother. Mrs. Lydia Njoh-Ada Takem was the daughter of Pa Tiku-Njoh and Mma Ada. Pa Tiku had gone to India to participate in the Second World War, came back and gotten himself an incredibly beautiful wife. I was privileged to see my grandmother Mma Ada. She was tall and very fair complexioned. So, our mother was born into a respected and reputable family in the village. This obviously impacted the trajectory of her life. Mama lived a respectful and fulfilling life as an amazing mother to ten children and ten stepchildren, a lovely sister to four siblings, a loving wife to her husband, a friend to her co-wife, and a beloved friend to many.

Since my mother died, I have struggled with how to refer to her in the past tense. I am still incredulous that she is no longer here because she has always been in my life of course, and she was blessed with longevity, so much so that she had become a fixture in my life. So, I unconsciously believed she was always going to be there. The eventuality of death, I had come to believe, was not something I had associated with her. Yes, I think there is some truth in this thought because, though she is physically gone, she lives in our memories for those of us who knew her, and especially for us – her children, she lives in our spirits and our souls forever.

Our mother was an all-round, inside-out beautiful person. I have so much to say about you mama, but I lack the strength now to say it. How do I start? Where do I begin? Many things about you have enchanted me. Let me mention only one or two for now. That’s all the strength I have now can do. By the way, I will sing your praises for the rest of my life.
Mama, you had an internal glow. You were a very spiritual person. You were an unflinching practicing, Christian. I remember the many times you would call me on Sundays, and before we started our conversations, you would ask me if I went to church, and you would be upset with me if told you I didn’t go to church that Sunday. I could go on and on about your Christian and God-fearing life; but Mama, I don’t have the strength now; I will do so all my life.

You glowed externally too. As modern Ghanaians will put it, our mother “was a life owner.” She was a woman of presence: You know that woman who walks into a room, delivers a message and everyone’s eyes are glued to her. In her younger days, she stood tall, with a long neck, tattoos on both arms, commands attention and respect. She enjoyed singing and was a good dancer. In her women’s cultural group, she was one of the “moninkim” dancers who always elicited applause and admiration from the crowd.
Mama, where do I begin? How do I start? The foregoing comments are far from even summarizing your personality and your values. How you eased your physical presence from us remains a mystery. Because the Friday before your departure from this world you called me 145 times. At the beginning of the calls, you had told me that you called in error, and that you were trying to call your friend. So, when you kept calling up to 145 times, I did not answer the calls. Now, I think of those calls every day and every day I increasingly believe that you were letting me know that the lines of communications between us is open and will continue forever, as you transition to join the pantheon of Angels. As you meet the other family angels, please intercede on our behalf, continue to guide, and guard us so that we can live a fulfilling life just like you did. When I saw you on that bed at the funeral home, you face was so peaceful. You died a very satisfied person. We adore and love you forever!