As I look back and recollect about my time with Nini, I am struck by how similar my experiences are to those already expressed in various tributes to Nini. My pre-teen years were spent hopping from school to school following my Dad’s frequent transfers to different locations around the North West. At one point, as they went from Ndop to Bali, my parents decided to send me off to Nini and to the dreaded “Teacher” for retooling. To them it was akin to sending me to reform school, for they could no longer contain my truancy. I lived with Nini in Twuah Fundong and attended Class 5 at RCM Fuanantui. This turned out to be one of the most magical times of my early childhood. Off early to school and once school was done I was on my own till she returned home from the farm. Some times, she would have me join her in the farm after school to carry home corn or other foodstuff, and tree branches for fuel. Nini was totally protective of me like Mother Hen, but firm whenever I strayed off in youthful reckless escapades. Like once when I snuck off with some kids to do trick or treat with a Calabar Juju. Nini took off calling my name through the pitch dark night air. I ran back home scared of what I had done. That night I and got a good wringing of my ears to the point I thought they would fall off. I didn’t hear the last of it that night. I also learned to hunt for birds with my slingshot, knowing them by name, following them through the tops of the big kolanut trees and other fruit trees down the slopes of the neighborhood. Several times I trekked up to Aku with Teacher to bring home firewood or logs. The trip home was always an unending descent where I would unavoidably slip, fall, or fling the heavy load from my head or shoulders, cry only to be comforted by Nini on arrival home, wet and sore. Nini also had countless recipes or food combinations to feed us. Living with her, initially I couldn’t stand some of the meals, and would pour them into the ashy fireplace when she turned her back or stepped outside. It was all in love and tender care, though. I helped fetch water for Nini from the pristine cold streams flowing down through Pa Munteh’s expansive compound. I also remember Nini’s herbal medicine prowess, leading many to point to this as one key reason for her longevity. Every leaf seemed to have a medicinal purpose. Nini used to rub me with a herbal paste that seemed to cure all common colds. She also served up another herbal potion seasoned with salt and palm oil which I had to “lo” for any internal ailments. Show me anyone these days who has lived more than a century, but has never been hospitalized. Not only did Nini outlive all her contemporaries, but unlike others she was not bored. Au contraire, she repeatedly gave of herself to the dozens and dozens of grandchildren whom she wrapped with her boundless love. In all this, my most cherished memory of Nini is the compelling story that preceded my birth and her role as a match maker between my Mom and my Dad. Not only did she ask for my Mom’s hand from her parents, Catechist Paul Njuakom and his wife Susana Bih Yimeh of Wombong, but as one of the pioneers of the Christian faith in Kom, she was a well respected and outspoken evangelist. It is said that she single-handedly dissuaded her brother, Ncham Ka-ah, from a life a “mukum” and “njangsi” to one of Christian education, helping him move like her from Njinikijem to Njinikom. Endearing love and care for her brother indeed! It is also said that after my parents got married it took a while (a few years) before I came along. My Mom had multiple health complications raising doubt about any eventual pregnancy. But Nini’s solid faith would not let that be. She virtually spoke faith and deliverance to her brother and sister-in-law. So much so that when I was born, Nini’s joy and renewed faith had no bounds. She named me “Samoh” or “Truth” to signify the “Truth of God’s hand in our lives”. So upon hearing of my birth, Nini broke into this Song: Wa du wo, Ita Me kali a Njinikom Se yein wain wom Theresia wu bzi mein Samoh wom Ayongna Kia, Ayongna Kia, Ayongna Kia Bobo She ran non-stop from Fuanantui all the way to the maternity in Njinikom. Serenading everyone on her way with her joyful news. This song has been sung several times by Nini at the birth of many of her grandchildren, and particularly whenever I have visited her. I say farewell to you Nini, and thank God for bringing you into my life, to learn and witness your simple and life-changing ways, your strength, conviction and rock solid faith. In you I had the best Aunt or, should I say, Grand Ma, since at times with your selfless love and nurturing, it seemed like you were actually my Dad’s mom, Ka-ah, whom I never really knew or remember. Adieu Nini. Tongti Baba whes Yi na djem si ghes. Samoh Wallang (Nephew)