Over the weekend, my grandma asked me if I would take some pictures of her. They were supposed to be simple iPhone photos take in our backyard, but I ended up turning the whole thing into an occasion. I helped her do her makeup, picked out a few outfits (we had some differences in opinion lol), and rented some photography equipment I’m still learning how to use.
Last spring, my mom interviewed my grandma for posterity and reminded me, as she often has, that my grandma was a door to salvation for our family. Her name, Chidi, means “There is God,” and I think this poem by Titilope Sonuga beautifully captures the blessing of generations. We are so wealthy.
Below is an excerpt from their conversation last year:
“I know that as I was growing up, even in primary school, there was this thing about me … I don’t know why I was reasoning the way I was reasoning. I had an inquisitive mind. At times I would find myself withdrawing and thinking about nature, thinking about God. Who was this God?
My name is Chidi, meaning there is God. There was one day I sat down alone, when there was nobody in the house, I just sat down outside on a stool. I started calling my name, “Chidi, who are you?” I would say it in Igbo, “Onye ka ị bụ? Chidi, onye ka ị bụ?” All of a sudden, I lost awareness—as if I went into another realm. And I came back. And at that point, I discontinued asking that question.
But I knew there was something about me. I had this love for God. Who God was, I did not know, but I knew there was a God. Anytime I went to church, there were some hymns that when they were sung, I would start shedding tears. And there were sermons that I would listen to and start shedding tears. I had that consciousness about God, but I wouldn’t say that I was born-again. I didn’t know anything about born-again.
After so many years, I had married and gone to Ibadan and come back to Umuahia again. My repentance—will I say it was gradual? People told me about repentance, being born-again—it didn’t mean much to me. But this time in Umuahia, there was something that happened in our house—you knew about it. The electricity incident. The whole family would have gone. Maybe your father would have been the only one alive. So when that thing happened that night, my reaction would have been shouting on the children. But instead thatt night, I was sitting on that couch. I don’t know what happened to me—I think it was God. It was that night, at that moment in time, that I gave my life to Christ. And I knew that I was born-again. Something happened inside me—I can’t explain it.”
Happy birthday, grandma.
—Chineze