Are You Sitting Down?

‘Are you sitting down?” It seems like a very simple question, right?

I used to think it was just a question, until I realized, from watching a lot of Nollywood (Nigerian Movie Industry) films that showed that question being asked with sound effects that definitely did not portray anything happy or joyful.

Ok, I know that the word ‘Nigeria’, in a story, to any non-Nigerian immediately calls to mind the ‘419’ tricks and scams and everything tied around greed, scam, victim, loss etc., but keep in mind that before the notoriety and negative image of Nigeria that stemmed from the use of Internet for dubious reasons by some citizens of the country, the country was known for its diversities, rich cultures, multiple languages, exotic and very organic foods, unique and elegant fashions and peculiar idioms, poetry, sayings, adages and proverbs….the list goes on and on.

“Are you sitting down?” is a terrible, sad, painful, disastrous, heart breaking and gut-wrenching question to ask anyone. Especially, to folks living in the Diaspora. A minimum of six thousand miles separates a family member, friend or even distance relative from United States of America to the closest shoreline {Lagos} into the country via Air or Sea.

With that distance apart, based on planning and the rising cost of international flights, plus in this pandemic season, the high cost of COVID tests to go from one international border to the next, including days subjected to self-quarantine, makes dashing back home a nightmare.

Which is why no one wants to hear that dreaded question. Not before, definitely, not now!

People who are from the Diaspora, but still have family members residing in Nigeria or other parts of Africa, dread hearing those words.

To the uninitiated, and those that do not know the treachery and yet brain-massaging skills of a Culture-Guru Nigerian, being asked of your physical position is only to make sure you do not topple over when the news is released.

Some people have been known to have fainting episodes when unpleasant news is communicated to them. Some, sadly, in the absence of anyone to hold and comfort them, had passed away too, from the heart ache, attack and pure, drastic shock.

In my case, that faithful Tuesday morning, the very last Tuesday before 2021 Christmas, even though I had planned out my day for that last work week before the Christmas breaks, and my mother had sent me a text the night before, that daddy was in Hospital, I thought it was going to be like the last times he got admitted in hospital but still returned home.

When my mother raised the alert that he was getting worse, I prayed and prayed, while he was still breathing, via phone to him, 6000+ miles away. He was not coherent, so, I am not sure he knew it was his Princess on the phone.

Princess? Yes, I am aware that lots of scammers claim that they are ‘sons of kings,’ ‘Princes,’ ‘President’s son’ etc. just to scam people. However, there are lots of Princes and Princesses that do not flaunt their titles. I happen to be one of those.

So, this Princess (Ada Eze) was not sitting down, but the mere voicing of that question on the phone by my cousin, resulted in me telling him to shut up.

To an outsider, hearing that very brief conversation, they might, actually, they would conclude that I was rude. Telling someone to shut up just because they asked me IF I was sitting down.

Now, this is the issue. I sat down eventually, but daddy was lying down. He was still lying down even when oxygen device had been detached from him. He is still lying down. Since that Tuesday. He is lying down right now as I type this, while we are crying in pains, especially my mom, who talked, walked, ate, laughed, cried, moved, relocated, birthed, thrived, waned, shined, dined, planned, lived and everything married people do, for Fifty-two years.

Daddy will never walk again. Hey, our usual squabbles and disagreements will not happen again. He is Gone. Lying on a cold slab in a morgue. My father. The man I saw as a huge human while growing up. But who remained my loving father all through my lifetime....is gone to heaven!

I found myself searching my phones looking for one of his Ymail voice notes that he left me each time he called and didn’t reach me, from across 6000+ miles away.

The recent conversations with him have been on constant repeat in my head. Each signaling me to believe that he knew he would be gone soon. But, like life is, we all each assume that we would always wake up tomorrow and all our loved ones would wake up too, for us to continue where we stopped the previous day.

That other saying: ‘Tomorrow is NOT guaranteed anyone,’ rings so loud in my head these past 9 days without my dad. Because I remember that we were to write a book together. In fact, he had sent me the voice recordings of the book. The last time I traveled 6000+ miles to visit him, he asked me again about the book's progress, and I said I would get to it. 2022 already had that book on my Master ToDo list. Now, how exactly am I supposed to listen to those voice recording to transcribe them into a book. How can I survive hearing his deep voice for hours on end, after we have buried him?

Now, the burial plans. That is another junction, where the deep traditions of the people roar loud! Turns out that him, being a King, there are certain days of the week (according to the Igbo ethnic Calendar) that a King cannot be buried. There is also a certain period that the Catholic Church (that he was a member of all his life) would not conduct a funeral service there in his hometown. – The Lenten periods. And per the Catholic rules in that area, human bodies should be committed to earth not later than 2 weeks after death.

Which becomes a huge problem for families that have loved ones in the Diaspora who would need extra time to prepare for the long trip back to the motherland.

The actual funeral turns out that it would be a huge community event. Their King is dead. So, they would mourn him. Which entails open doors to all and everyone to come eat, drink and be merry(?). All at the expense of the immediate family members {grieving}. Are they celebrating my father's death? NO, I am not! We are NOT! We want him alive! Close that grave! Take away the music, the dances, the cows, the foods, just give me my father! Even with the illhealth. I want my daddy!

Other rites come into play after the internment, like my mother, now a widow, is expected to mourn him in at their home, for a certain period, wearing all black outfits. Oh My, I can tell you right now that my mother hates black clothes; since I was a kid. This would be a tough one on her. And oh, we are all supposed to also shave off all hairs from our heads as a sign of mourning. I have reminded myself to get a clipper off Amazon.

I am out of words, not because I do not have anything to say, but because I cannot continue writing. This hurts so bad. I have consoled friends and other family members that lost their parents or loved ones, but I have been blessed to have had both parents alive until 9 days ago. And I did not get the Memo. I never saw the Manual, the real manual and Warning about how painful the Grief of a parent, a wonderful parent that loved selflessly till the end really is.

A parent whose words that I perceived as him ‘still being up in my adulting business over-worrying himself,’ was simply him, knowing that the doctors had given up on him, and thinking he would leave anytime: wanting to make sure his three kids are comfortable and sesttled to continue life, without him. And my words to him always being: “Daddy, you have done the best as an amazing father, you have given my brothers and I amazing childhoods and education, now, allow God to direct our lives, stop worrying about us as adults, that is now God to handle, and you to just simply pray on the side for your kids”. He always said his full time job was being a father, and worrying was part of the job description.

There it is! In a short while, His Royal Highness, Eze J. A. Ogbonna, would be committed to earth. That vacuum is forever left open. But I know that he is still looking down on his wife and kids from heaven.

Daddy, you ARE an amazing father. Hands Down.

I will finish our book; I am my Father’s Daughter! A Go-getter, a Never-Quitting kinda person like you.

Adieu Daddy.

You are lying down, but your Princess is NOT sitting down, I am Standing and Walking and ….. in PAINS and TEARS!