Hello Grandmother

Hello grandmother.
Today is a special day.
I don't know what day or date you were born and neither did you.
In your time births were often not recorded and no birth certificates in Nkata, the village where you were born.
The birth of a child was recorded by events that took place in the universe: an eclipse of the sun or moon or a great flood or famine.
So I am making this day March 1st your birthday.

Each time I tell my new friends in the lands of my sojourn about the culture of my ancestors. Your part in raising me makes an entrance.
You insisted that I learned how to cook Ukazi soup. Especially, how to slice this tough vegetable thinly, something I consider an art today. You spent hours teaching me how to do it just right. After all, I was a girl and in your words "Every girl should know how to cook"

The cooking lessons began at age 10 often with tears streaming down my cheeks when slicing onions. You promised I would get better at it and I did.
"I wu Ada". You are Ada. The first daughter. An Igbo title bequeathed to all first daughters whether you wanted it or not. And the responsibilities and expectations that came with it. An Ada is often expected to do all the right things as predicted by the Igbo culture

Anyway, mama ukwu, Happy birthday.
I don't cook Ukazi soup anymore. I did not marry an Umuahia man like you wished, nor did I bother with marriage, but I do have a lovely son who you would have loved.
And I stopped reading the Bible but i still remember a couple of verses from when you used to read from your Igbo bible to me while i struggled to tie your ichafu  (headscarves) for you on Sunday mornings.

Mama Ukwu are you smiling or laughing at me with your beautiful gleaming eze uzo (gap tooth)
Hahaha, I think you are chuckling at your incorrigible granddaughter who dares to be different and is often free-spirited. Continue to raise easy now.