Today, We Remember, But Who Are We Forgetting?

Yes, most people are familiar with those sweet women in the rural communities that have an unadulterated sense of love, of affection, of empathy, of care, of giving, of community. They are those you probably see in one or two years, but each time, it is love renewed. They are those who drop off anything they are holding on seeing you. They could embrace you with charcoal, dusty or oil-soiled palms but the ‘soiling’ of your clothes pales in significance at the value of the mutual expression of love and affection.

They are the type that show you what happiness truly means, finding joy in every smile and every breath. Then you look at yourself as an eternal ingrate with the luxuries you whine at missing.

In simplicity, they are fulfilled. They are the ones you marvel at their sense of giving. She can dash in, roast her seedling corn or yam, just so you can be fed. She does not mind that those seedlings are her own bank accounts as having them assures her of a harvest the next planting season. She just gives, telling you, God who brought and kept you would still supply her needs. She is not sucked in by modern day craze of prosperity and miracles; she has a link with her God.

She is the type who does not bother about your unannounced arrival, she loves you that much, sometimes, she gets her grand kids to call you just so she could ‘hear’ your voice at the other end. Urge her to drop so you call back and she assures you, ‘there is money’ (read credit) in the phone. She just wants to talk and know that you are ok.

So, Mama Jully, our village beauty, tall, long unrelaxed hair, perfect dentition that she showcases graciously as she smiles, is one of such women. I had gone to see her. Her vibrancy was a bit subdued. She knew why I had come, I learnt her son – a soldier was killed in action in the North East. She embraced me, then broke down. She cried for almost thirty minutes. Then her agonizing story.

Her son had died in active service, her pain, she never saw the corpse no gave him any goodbye hug. No contact with anybody, a mother will hug a child dead or alive. I tried consoling her but no one on earth can adequately understand the pain of a mother who loses a child. I know firsthand how it feels but even my experience could not help me console mama Jully.

Today, she lives daily with the pain. Today is Armed Forces Remembrance Day, but has the likes of Mama Jully, other family members of our dead military families know that we, the country care for their sacrifices?

I do not have answers to this, but one hopes that the Remembrance Day would go beyond commemorating an abstract date to the real families and friends of our fallen military (like other countries) who died that we may live. We cannot bring them back alive but we can make the metaphoric Mama Jully feel happy that she has a country who appeals to her humanity and dignity. It is not all about money. There is joy in giving those things that Money cannot buy.

Many citizens do but can the country genuinely show love to them and their lost ones back? Great question, but it is only when we answer that we begin to unknot the Gordian knot of patriotism. Happy Armed Forces Remembrance Day, folks.

Ogaziechi is a journalist based in Lagos.

Disclaimer: This article is entirely the opinion of the writer and does not represent the views of The Whistler.