Book of condolence

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A pillar of this parish

For sixty years Mama Adaeze was at the seven o'clock Mass before the doors were fully open. She trained our catechism pupils, fed our seminarians and corrected her priests gently and privately. The parish is quieter without her.

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My sister and my compass

We met at training college in 1956 and never spent a year apart in conversation. She was the most truthful person I have known, and truth from her never wounded.

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She paid my fees and never said a word

In 1989 my father died and I was sent home from school. A woman I did not know paid my fees for four years. I learned her name at her wake. I am a paediatrician today because of Ma Teacher.

On behalf of thousands of pupils

Our association exists because she insisted, in 1985, that girls who leave a school should keep returning to it. We shall endow a scholarship in her name.

A head teacher of the old standard

She kept her register in ink, knew every pupil's mother by name, and refused three transfers to bigger schools because Umuoji children needed her more.

Thank you, Ma

You gave me shoes in 1993 so I could take my common entrance. I have never forgotten.