Very remarkable encounters (III)

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I met the woman over three years ago at a local market I was introduced to for my fish needs.

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As I explored the market, I discovered that I could also buy native foodstuffs there.

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Mama was one of such discoveries, and I ended up buying fresh okro from her.

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Other times, I would go to her for my vegetable needs. I would even ask her to slice the vegetables for me while we made small talk.

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From leaving some “change” with her after every transaction, I began to simply stop by her stall from time to time to give her some money, just to encourage her and make her transportation back home a little easier, even if she sold nothing that day.

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On one of the days I met her on her way to the market, I got a rude shock.

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No wonder I had never seen her stand up.

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One of her legs is severely bowed. She uses a walking stick, which means that most of her body weight rests on one leg.

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She often complained about ukwumgbu (leg pain), and I thought it was just the normal arthritis that comes with old age.

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A thought began to play on my mind from that encounter.

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I admired her strength even more, especially the courage it took to leave home every morning in that condition.

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A few days before Easter, I realised she had stopped coming to the market, so I began asking her neighbours about her.

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They told me she was unwell.

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A few weeks later, she still had not resumed at the market, so I asked again. This time, I asked if they could direct me to where she lived.

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They obliged me, and I made a mental note to visit her in the coming days with some fruits at least. But on my way home, another thought began to dance in my mind.

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When Papa succumbed to the vagaries of old age, one of the things we did for him was to source a walker. But guess what?

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Papa never used it because, despite his health challenges, he could still support his own body weight while walking. Towards the end of his life, it was not a walker he needed but a wheelchair.

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That same walker was what came to my mind when I thought about Mama.

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So, I made arrangements to bring it over, and that was what I took to her on the day I visited.

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She did not stop screaming with excitement and surprise when she saw me.

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I taught her how to use the walker and made sure she walked around with it for several minutes until she became tired. I insisted she walk because she told me she had not stepped out of that room in weeks.

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She lives alone.

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From our conversation, I learnt that she has two daughters who visit her, but her eldest daughter comes around more often to bring her food and take care of her other needs.

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During my last visit, I noticed she had a haircut.

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She confirmed that it was her eldest daughter who had come to shave her hair.

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I have never met her daughter, but her devotion to her mother tells me that if circumstances were better, she would do even more.

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These few visits to Mama have left me in sober reflection about a different kind of vulnerability that age, ill health and economic hardship can bring. It is even more painful when all three converge in one life.

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But I am also left in awe of the goodness of God.

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He made sure that a walker brought all the way from the U.S., without her name on it, eventually found its way into her hands.

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Imagine how I ended up going to a market that nothing would have taken me to if I had not accompanied a friend there. She casually said, “If you ever need original Titus fish, come to this shop.” Those words stayed in my memory.

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May this remind us once again that God has His ways of working through every situation.

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Please check on your aged loved ones as often as possible. Where you cannot visit them, call them. And if you have the opportunity to have them under your roof, do not hesitate.

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The image of Mama sitting alone in that dim room, staring through the window and relying on the voices of passers-by so she does not feel completely alone, haunts me after every visit.

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Pray for the blessing of never lacking people to talk to when the bones have become too frail to go out into the world.

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