My Facebook message reads: “The baobab under which we hid from the sun has gone on to glory. I find no better words to describe this great woman than as a baobab. A big tree on whose branches birds build their nests and under whose shelter tired travelers rest. The cord which kept the family tied together is loose now!” Her life is a whole library but my page is a small one in this huge library of Nini Ita Itanghi Nengjom Ka’ah. I feel more atuned to her because as one of her thirty grandchildren, I bear her names: Ita Itanghi to which is added Nawom which means My Mother. From the moment I could reason I got used to the fact that my grandmother was there and always there not only for me but for all of my brothers and sisters as well as cousins and even distant relatives. I remember her as the one we will run to for anything under the sun. I normally don’t like eating much fufu with little vegetable but since there was never enough vegetable for the more than seventeen plates that were placed in front of sis Eli Mbeh or Perpetua Mbu at any one time, I used to run off to the bush to fetch bitter herbs to compliment my mbas. Hear me: Ni, wa keli a le’ a mivil ma we a ma mbas a? or isi I finyanya? She would say something but always ended up giving something even if it was an empty tin of oil to warm on the fire and put in the bitter leaf. I cooked fufu corn for the first time in my life in her famous toyn tea and she encouraged me. What else will I say that does not revolve around Nini? At a certain point in time in our growing up process, you had to move to stay in Nini’s house. This had its good and bad points though. It actually meant that you carried water exclusively for Nini, firewood etc. It equally meant you could benefit from eating some special things Nini could give you. In trying to give food to you when there were so many people in the house, she would ask that everyone should leave so she could feed her fowls. That way she will call you back and give you something to eat. If you were not smart enough to eat fast, she will pinch your head. The coveted bed in Nini’s house was the one Olga (Yein) used to occupy. We stayed on the ikuyn i mbzi. You could find yourself on the floor the next morning because the bamboos which lined the bed would have fallen off through the night. The other thing that was not funny was the ‘kfas’ arrangement. Oh no! Newuuuuuuuu, this is how she used to call me. Newu Mbu eh ma wi ntoh! When she called around a certain time, I will not be too happy because we knew the ordeal. The grating of cocoyams for her famous kwakoko which we used to sell in school. From the grating to the final selling of this kfas, all of the processes were quite an ordeal. Late in the night, she would be grating at snail’s pace and sleeping. It is only at night that she would send one to go out and cut banana leaves for the kwakoko and we would complain so much about it. Business woman that she was, she would sell sugar cane, palm oil etc. She had to virtually beg and bribe us to go and sit at the roadside selling some of these items. Her generosity knew no bounds and the late Theresia Sih who was her friend was equally as generous. She used to send us to many different compounds to go and deliver one parcel or the other. We were most happy when she sent us to ‘miss’ (late Theresa Sih) because we knew when you went there, you were greatly entertained. We would even cry if we went there and did not find here. She had a way of knowing that there was someone waiting for her at her house. Nini gave even to those who were not very friendly with her. Her usual saying was that ‘yi yuyn teyn aving’ to mean you placate the witch; you don’t confront such a person. Lately she used the statement a lot which carried a lot of meaning. She will send Feli to carry ‘alang a biwe’ to Njinikom when I was writing A’levels. The late Florence Ateh and I would make such a fuss about cocoyams sent by our granny. Come and see mates trying to beg a bit of the coveted alang a biwe. That is how we grew up. This is what we ate. She always had a banana, a cocoyam, some fufu corn that she had kept for the rainy day. There was another thing she used to cook, mbas ibol, prepared with coco leaves to give a soft greenish black paste. I remember when Nini fell from the banda. I wonder if I was there but it seemed I just heard the story or came to the scene late. She shouted: ‘ wooooooooo, i cftu toyn (lumi) lum tchousa wu fasa’, to mean ‘when the handle of the pot gets too hot, it breaks’. I don’t exactly know what she meant by that but I know her son (my father) and her turned it into a joke. Each time he came around subsequently, he would ask ‘some man dey banda’, and she will answer ‘all the time, all the time, some man dey banda’. She used to keep things in the banda oh. Chei, milik oh banda, sugar, banda, firewood, banda ah, even money was kept in the banda tied in small small pieces of cloth. Ita Nawom Itanghi