Omega, Ozo, Mbamalu, Cosmos, Anaroc, Chief My Father; where do I start from? Is it from the smile that lights up his face when you show him a good result, how his eyes mirrors contentment when he is eating a very delicious native food, his patience when he is trying to correct you over something you did not do well, his smile when he is listening to oliver D’coque, Osadebe or watching pami Udu bonch video, his gait when he is explaining the Nigerian civil war, his seriousness when he is telling you how he missed an opportunity to be in the Nigerian army. There are different shades to my father.
He is a complex human being and one you can please quickly. He detest lies, he would rather you tell him the truth, he is a generous person, he gives without reserve. I remember drinking custard as a child, eating sausages and spaghetti. I guess that’s how I fell in love with spaghetti. He gave me the best of everything, I attended one of the best primary and secondary school. I don’t have any recollection of my father hitting me, he would scold you and it ends there. Whenever my mother tried to frighten you into doing something, my father would talk with you one on one and find out the reason behind your stubbornness.
I was asked to write a tribute for him, I can’t write a tribute for him. I can write a book on the man cosmos Anadobi. His virtues can feel a book and earn me a pulitzer. My father is a neat man, he is so neat that he can wear white for an insane length of time. As a child people called him Jim Nwobodo because he loved baffing up in white, as he got older , he would come to me to button his shirt or help him cuff link his shirt and I will tease him about how old he is. Sometimes he would ask me to dye his hair and I would tell him to leave it to become like Wole Soyinka’s hair. I would go into his room sometimes and search for what I want and take, ranging from ball point pens, diaries, singlets to even his boxers. He knows immediately that I took them whenever he looks for them.
My father stood for the truth no matter who it hurts and most of the time he was called on to mediate quarrels or disputes because people knew they could count on him to say it like he sees it. He can sometimes be a pest, in a good way tho. Whenever you wanna rest that’s when he calls on you to something. He had human consideration, he won’t leave his soup plate empty; there was always one meat for the lucky person who carried the plates out and that made his plate to be in high demand. He had these habit of not eating outside, he would leave the food there and come back home to eat our food. When you ask him ” daddy o’na erihozi nri ebe ahu, he will tell you “ihe ha n’a esi o nri? Ha kpolu kwe maggi white wuha na nri ha kpo ya nri”. The truth is my father is his own person and no one can ever replace him.
LOCKED DOWN TIGHT YO!!