Olori Deaconess Janet Meseko

21/06/2025

*Her Memory Will Always Be A Blessing*

PART 1

Today on the first anniversary of Momi’s passing, I have a little story to tell in her honour.

It is a story set in the country village of Okebukun. It was evening, not late evening, it was rather more like mid-afternoon. The time estimate is important. The atmosphere was evening-like, although the sun was not up and shining, it couldn’t have gone down yet; it might have been shielded by a few clumps of clouds. But it did not threaten to rain.

It was possible that Momi already had something on fire for dinner, but there were undone dishes still scattered across the floor of the open concrete space that separated the main family building to its backyard annex which formed part of our little compound.

The open space between the structures was our general dining area. Once dinner was dished, Momi would call everyone to collect their plate. We all had our individual plates. I can still visualize me going hungrily to claim my plate most probably of steaming pounded yam or amala and egusi or tankelekon soup with a few crumbs of smoked fish. Yes, only a few crumbs – I couldn’t as one of the many young lads lay claim to anything bigger. My portion was proportionately fine, but who wouldn’t always want more of Momi’s delicious delicacy?

Momi asked me to gather and wash up the littering plates. I refused.

Her request to me was not unusual. I had done the dishes the day before and probably consistently before then. My refusal on that day was mainly out of curiosity to know what Momi would do following my refusal. Would she re-assign the task to someone else? Would she punish me? I had only just outgrown corporal punishment by flogging and wanted to know what sort of punishment would henceforth be applied if I did so *Risadi. Meseko

21/06/2025

*Her Memory Will Always Be A Blessing*

PART 1

Today on the first anniversary of Momi’s passing, I have a little story to tell in her honour.

It is a story set in the country village of Okebukun. It was evening, not late evening, it was rather more like mid-afternoon. The time estimate is important. The atmosphere was evening-like, although the sun was not up and shining, it couldn’t have gone down yet; it might have been shielded by a few clumps of clouds. But it did not threaten to rain.

It was possible that Momi already had something on fire for dinner, but there were undone dishes still scattered across the floor of the open concrete space that separated the main family building to its backyard annex which formed part of our little compound.

The open space between the structures was our general dining area. Once dinner was dished, Momi would call everyone to collect their plate. We all had our individual plates. I can still visualize me going hungrily to claim my plate most probably of steaming pounded yam or amala and egusi or tankelekon soup with a few crumbs of smoked fish. Yes, only a few crumbs – I couldn’t as one of the many young lads lay claim to anything bigger. My portion was proportionately fine, but who wouldn’t always want more of Momi’s delicious delicacy?

Momi asked me to gather and wash up the littering plates. I refused.

Her request to me was not unusual. I had done the dishes the day before and probably consistently before then. My refusal on that day was mainly out of curiosity to know what Momi would do following my refusal. Would she re-assign the task to someone else? Would she punish me? I had only just outgrown corporal punishment by flogging and wanted to know what sort of punishment would henceforth be applied if I did so *Risadi. Meseko

21/06/2025

PART 2

Momi, saying nothing but softly humming a church praise song, straightened up from her seat, tightened her wrapper and set about gathering the littering plates as she had instructed me to do. I watched quietly. Momi did not re-assign the task to any other person. She took a little wooden stool to sit on, collected a near discarded sponge with little soap, and with the plates spread in front of her on the open concrete floor of the compound, she went about washing them herself with the dish water draining through a narrow corner out of the house.

I learnt a few lessons that day:
1. *Quiet Non-Rebuke*
In her quiet non-rebuke, Momi chastised me more than the flogging of a thousand canes. She invited me to partake in a joyful activity. I could have done better.
2. *Frugality*
I was impressed by her economy of resources. She probably used only one-fifth of the soap I could’ve used to complete the chores.
3. *The Benefit Was To Have Been Mine*
The accomplishment of any assignment is to the assignee’s own primary benefit. Where we fail to carry out any duty assigned to us, that duty would still be fulfilled anyway irrespective of our failure.

Thank you, Momi, for the wisdom you imparted.

It’s for always, your *Risadi.*

21/06/2025

*Her Memory Will Always Be A Blessing*

Today on the first anniversary of Momi’s passing, I have a little story to tell in her honour.

It is a story set in the country village of Okebukun. It was evening, not late evening, it was rather more like mid-afternoon. The time estimate is important. The atmosphere was evening-like, although the sun was not up and shining, it couldn’t have gone down yet; it might have been shielded by a few clumps of clouds. But it did not threaten to rain.

It was possible that Momi already had something on fire for dinner, but there were undone dishes still scattered across the floor of the open concrete space that separated the main family building to its backyard annex which formed part of our little compound.

The open space between the structures was our general dining area. Once dinner was dished, Momi would call everyone to collect their plate. We all had our individual plates. I can still visualize me going hungrily to claim my plate most probably of steaming pounded yam or amala and egusi or tankelekon soup with a few crumbs of smoked fish. Yes, only a few crumbs – I couldn’t as one of the many young lads lay claim to anything bigger. My portion was proportionately fine, but who wouldn’t always want more of Momi’s delicious delicacy?

Momi asked me to gather and wash up the littering plates. I refused.

Her request to me was not unusual. I had done the dishes the day before and probably consistently before then. My refusal on that day was mainly out of curiosity to know what Momi would do following my refusal. Would she re-assign the task to someone else? Would she punish me? I had only just outgrown corporal punishment by flogging and wanted to know what sort of punishment would henceforth be applied if I did something disagreeable. I had no particular reason for refusing to do the little chores other than the curiosity to see what would happen.

Momi, saying nothing but softly humming a church praise song,

Risadi Meseko

20/06/2025

Exactly one year ago
She transited

"It still pains me that we couldn’t celebrate her birthday at 90 … but I take solace in her reminders 1. That the much we showed in caring at old age is meaningful to her 2. That in her passing it also fulfil her wish not to be a burden either in sickness or in been too old and helpless. Probably if she died at “too old” … we may not be affected … and it is worse if it was that time that she had stroke ! But God persevered her . This time we may feel a loss but in gratitude not in regret …"

Prof Clement Meseko

23/12/2024