A Tribute to My Aunty Pat… Ito’s Mummy

Olumide Akpata writes a moving tribute to his Aunty, Mrs. Patricia Kehinde Akpata, widow of Honourable Justice Ephraim Akpata, who passed on to glory on 11 February 2023 and was buried yesterday in Benin-City

Like the average Nigerian child, I had in my life, a number of women, who were friends and/or relatives of my mother and who could at any time stand in loco parentis, on her behalf. These other mothers of mine included, not in any particular order, the late Roseline Osunde, Joyce Gbenebichie, Janet Ogbeide and, the one for whom I now write this Tribute, my Aunty, Patricia Kehinde Akpata – “Ito’s Mummy”. To me, she was always Ito’s Mummy because her last child, my cousin, Itohan, who was born 13 days after me, was probably my very first best friend.

My Aunty Pat and my mother (who by the way, was also Pat – short for Patience) were married to two brothers: Ephraim and Henry. The two brothers had very similar traits, they were both taciturn, not given to too many words and they were both introverts. As a result of this, Aunty Pat, who married Uncle Ephraim sometime in 1961 and my mother, who married my dad, sometime in 1967, both had their work cut out for them. It became their lot, as the wives of these two very nice, but very reserved gentlemen, to create an environment in their homes that would make their many visitors, (friends and family alike) always feel welcome and at home.

The two families lived In Warri, Delta State for extended periods of time, and as such, it was inevitable that a close bond, beyond that which already existed between the brothers, would be forged. We virtually lived in each other’s houses… actually, my younger sister and I lived in their house, because it was simply more convenient. While our house was halfway across town, on Enerhen Road, our primary school was right behind the High Court, where my uncle was a Judge at the time, and his official quarters was literally a walking distance from the school. Our “Lesson” was also just around the corner and I might add that Uncle Ephraim was also alternate Lesson Teacher to my cousins, Esohe and Ito, my sister, Osarugue and I. So, we were always in their house, we had our meals there and slept over, more often than not.

I needed to provide this background to demonstrate that my Aunty Pat, was indeed mother to my siblings and I, and, truth be told, it takes a certain kind of woman to make children feel very comfortable in a home other than theirs – so comfortable that we were never in a hurry to go back to our house…that was my Aunty Pat. Don’t get me wrong… she never spoiled or overindulged us, but she always let us know and feel, in a non-verbal kind of way, that we were truly welcome in her home…and what a home it was!

There was love…lots of love, the food was GOOD (her beans were legendary) and it was always a lot of fun being there. We played board (and other) games and there was always healthy competition amongst us the children and my uncle and Aunty. Yes, my uncle and Aunty were always part of the fun and games. Indeed…Aunty Pat went on to become one of the best lady amateur golfers in Nigeria. We were always so proud of her exploits on the Golf Course.

I also have very fond memories of the domestic staff (including Patrick the Driver, James the Cook) who knew that they were an integral part of the family. And not to forget the dogs, Patch and Slade, who were my Aunty’s favourite companions.

Of course, in all of these, schoolwork was never to be abandoned – just the look on my uncle’s face was enough to deter you from even thinking of playing truant!

This was the home over which my Aunty superintended with such aplomb… sitting quietly in her corner in the sitting room, knitting intently and expertly, but keeping an eye on the goings on in a most unobtrusive manner. I remember those days with such joy and nostalgia… we were truly blessed to have had her as a mother.

My Uncle and Aunty were, to me, the model couple who complemented each other so well. Aunty Pat was stunningly beautiful and they always looked so good together. I remember when they went out for Dinners and other formal events – Uncle in his Tuxedo and trademark bow-tie and Aunty in very beautiful dresses, some of which she knitted herself.

They also complemented each other in other very important ways and this is exemplified in the way they raised their children and by extension, those of us who were privileged to have lived with them, instilling in us, values that have remained indelible till this day, including:

Hard work and discipline – no shortcut to success.

Sportsmanship – on and off the field of play.

Contentment – being grateful for and satisfied with what you have.

Love for the good things of life, albeit only the ones you can afford.

Respect for and fairness to all – you’re not better than anyone else

And so many more.

In 1982, my Uncle Ephraim was elevated to the Court of Appeal and posted to the Kaduna Division of the Court. It was a bitter-sweet moment for us because we were all super-excited about his well-deserved elevation but definitely not the separation that it occasioned.

Our (my sister Osarugue and I) sense of loss when they left for Kaduna, was soon somewhat assuaged in 1983, when our entire family, except my dad, travelled by road to Kaduna, from Warri, for a 3-week holiday. As soon as our Station Wagon pulled up at the house in Malali, Kaduna, we all jumped out of the car and into the arms of my Aunty Pat and my cousins who were all so happy to see us.

We quickly settled down in the new house which may have been more modern than the one in Warri but…it was the same home. My Aunty Pat had settled the family in quite well, into their usual routine and everything was in place.  It almost felt like we were still in Warri. So, all we, the “late comers” had to do was to simply plug-in and continue with business as usual! It was indeed one of the best vacations of my childhood.

There were to be a couple more relocations and new homes in new cities…Temple Road in Ikoyi, Ogunrombi Close in Ogudu and Aikhomu Crescent, off Missisipi Road in Maitama. The houses may have been different, but the home remained the same and there was always that confidence-inspiring re-assurance from my Aunty Pat, whenever my siblings and I visited, that we were children of that household and that we were always welcome because it was also our home. Indeed, when they moved to Abuja circa 1998, soon after my Uncle Ephraim was announced as the Chairman of what is now known as INEC, I was one of their early visitors even though they were yet to move into their official residence and were staying temporarily at the Abuja Sheraton. It must have quite inconvenient for them but my Aunty Pat, as usual, just made sure I was well taken care of and when it was time to go to bed, she found me somewhere to sleep in their Suite.

Many a time, it would be just Aunty Pat and I at home and just like any other mother and son, we would jist about any and everything or sit in silence watching TV. There was never any awkwardness.  Of course, we would also quarrel occasionally…just like any other mother and son.

After my mother died in April 1992, my Aunty Pat, in her usual quiet but effective manner, consistently demonstrated to my siblings and I that though we had lost our mother, we still had a mother in her. Very comforting…very reassuring. That was my Aunty Pat.

My Aunty Pat took ill sometime in October last year and after I finished speaking with my cousins about the state of her health, it was obvious that the end was nigh. I then began to reflect on my relationship with her. I began to check to see if I ever let her know how I felt about her…how much I loved and appreciated her and that she was indeed a mother to me. I wasn’t sure if I had ever done this albeit, I also realised that this was probably because it would have been a pretty difficult conversation to have with her. My Aunty Pat was self-effacing, and she did not like to attract attention to herself. She squirmed whenever she was in the spotlight or was the focus of any kind of attention. She was happy just doing her thing…no frills, no fuss…abiding always by what could be termed the unwritten code of conduct for spouses of judicial officers in the days of yore.

So, it was easy to forget to tell her thank you…it was easy to take her presence for granted because she seemed to prefer it that way. A true mother. I however purposed in my heart to go see her after she got a bit better but alas, as is often the case, life happens, and we procrastinate and postpone. Then I received the dreaded message from OG that she had breathed her last. I was filled with a deep sense of loss and regret…I had missed one last opportunity to just hug my Aunty Pat and tell her thank you for everything. I however got over my dejection pretty quickly, again just because of who my Aunty Pat was. I didn’t beat myself up too much as I knew she would not have held it against me. So, I am at peace.

My Aunty Pat may not have been a saint but methinks she was an Angel. Eternal rest grant unto her O Lord and let light perpetual shine upon her. May she rest in peace.

Amen.