We often speak this Igbo proverb casually “onwu bu onye ori” which means that death is a thief”. I never really reflected on the true meaning of these words until few days ago, on the early hours of Saturday morning about 4:30 AM on July 14, 2012 when I lived through it. I was woken up by a phone call and my younger sister Oby’s frantic and hysterical voice came on the line beckoning Uche! Uche! Mama’s condition has suddenly changed and that I should pray, I should wake up all my friends to pray with me to God for my mom’s life. I was busy trying to make sense out of the confusion in her voice, saying call the doctor, call the nurse, what went wrong, because I spoke to my mom the previous day, Friday, July 13 at 1:30 PM US time. I was on the phone with her for over twenty minutes calling her all her names Omenwa! Nono! Momisco! Ochiru ozua! Oshiru Oha! to cheer her up at her hospital bed at UNTH Enugu, where she was admitted the day before being Thursday July 12, 2012. She was laughing and giggling and already making plans for her usual activities come the following week. Everything was normal, I was not worried. I can still recount my mothers’ activities for the past one week vividly. She had been busy all throughout that week, no sign of weakness or illness. I was still on the phone with my sister when the line went dead. I called back she didn’t answer; I sent text messages, no reply. I called my cousin who was also at the hospital none of them picked up their line. I went on my knees immediately and started saying my Rosary, and I also woke up two of my friends Berna and Ogoo from sleep to pray with me. I called back again and still couldn’t get through, then I called my brother in law who is a medical doctor, and he started speaking in tongues, breaking the news with words of medical terminology that I couldn’t make sense of. I started shouting at him to please stop wasting my time and tell what was wrong with my mom. He said and I quote “In short, your mom is pronounced dead”. I told him he is liar and that God loves me and He would not do this to me, that I made a covenant with God. I went back on my knees, woke up my children Ike and Nora from sleep and we said the Rosary more than ten times that morning. Praying and hoping I’ll get another call to tell me she is alright, but none came. I called again after an hour and the news has not changed. At that moment I knew that death has stolen my mom away. I prayed to God to grant me one more favor, to spare my mom’s life; if not I’ll walk up to heaven and bring her back. That He just can’t come and take her from me without permission; that He just can’t take somebody’s belonging without asking politely, my mom is mine not His. Throughout that morning I was wrestling with God in prayer and I almost forgot that He’s God, that He giveth and will taketh at His own time. For in Job 1:2; “…and said, naked came I out of my mother's womb, and naked shall I return thither: the LORD gave, and the LORD hath taken away; blessed be the name of the LORD”. I can’t challenge my Father, God in heaven, for you are God, and I’m only human. My mom’s death is like someone cut a piece of my heart out with a sharp knife. No farewell words were spoken, no time to say goodbye. She was gone before I knew it, and only God knows why. My heart still aches in sadness and secret tears still flow, and what it meant to lose you, Mama, no one will ever know except God. I’ll leave all to Him. I know that He called you home because he does not want you to suffer any prolonged illness. I know that you are in heaven with Him. As I pray you, I also ask that you pray for me. Mama, it was from you that I learned to think, to feel, to imagine and to believe. It was your words, your actions and the toils of your labor that guided me all these years and made me who I am today. I learned to live and understand life through you. I still remember your guiding words at your store at Ogbete Market when I was a teenager, “Uche nwam, study hard to become somebody, to share your knowledge with the world, otherwise you’ll come and join me at the market selling Agbada and George”. I always chuckle when I hear those words, and they are rooted deep in my soul nudging me up when I am weak to get something accomplished because I never want to fail you. But mama, you never wasted your life. You had a lot to give; you raised your children well up to second degrees in some of the best universities in the world, you and your husband helped your brothers to become who they are today, you raised other people’s children from infant to adulthood, trained them to university degree, you became president of many organizations for years with very little education. You were my mentor and my inspiration, and I believed you could do it all. You nursed your own mom till age of 98 and I was looking forward to my turn, to take care of you through your old age. I live my life through you. When I think of you, all I remember is your energy, your strength, your wisdom, your honesty about life and the charity you shared with many, your love for people, your love for life and bringing happiness to many whom you fed and raised. Despite all my academic degrees and professional achievements, I still couldn’t measure up. When you call, many answer without hesitation. You were loved by many. You are the soul and center of our family and of many organizations. I don’t know what we’ll do without you. Losing you is the deepest sorrow my heart feels, your goodness, your care for others with none for yourself. Your wisdom will live on in me I promise ... like a legacy of love that will always be with you. Thank you mom for my life, I will always miss you and love you!!!