By Iteveh Ekpokpobe

We danced. The last time I saw her, we really danced. Mama Takaroma was there.

It was in Odugala Street. The wind was on our side. So where the elements. We danced to a song, though we did not sing. We only mimed.

GrandMa Egbedi called me ‘Okesi’ as she fondly does. She was really happy.

It was one of those evenings when she would step out to tend her poultry. I had visited Oleh for some indaba.

I strolled in to say hello. I called her “Mama”. And there she was all loving; and she was the best GrandMa one could have.

Today, I dirge away.

That I would address her in past tense today tells a lot about life. The trees prominent in the landscape of my life are gradually falling.

So well she spoilt me. I guess we all have to find solace in the harsh reality. No one leaves life alive.

In a space of four months three are gone. First it was Mr. Victor Ogeh, then GrandMa Irene Taiwo Egbedi (Nee Edeye), now Sir Mathias Odeh Commander Eto.

What a world!

Mama!!! I know we shall dance again some time. In the green fields of eternity. But until that time I will think of you always.

I will remember you!