Elizabeth Mbiwan

We saw in Auntie LIZZY an Elizabethan lady of noble birth or should we say a lady of the English aristocracy. Her dress style, manner of speech, and other mannerisms were different from many women of her class. I am sure that is why my grand mum her senior sister called her “eliz-beth” with a kind of high tone.

We never, never ever heard her raise her voice to anyone when speaking, no matter the circumstances but she made sure her opinions were clear on issues. She took her time to do all what she wanted to do, but she also made sure that she was always ready for any function on time.

This characteristic style was blended with a high consciousness of being a bakweri lady of good standing, evident in her way of speaking to familiar friends of the tribe and family members; always switching from good English language to good bakweri language.

Auntie LIZZY lived a quiet, simple but classy life, full of good counseling to us at all times and which she always concluded with that famous mixture “gbamu zrai; we thank God oh”. We will truly miss you.

Auntie, as you rest in the bosom of the most high God, may He grant you perfect peace; that peace which passeth all understanding.

                                                                 AMEN.

My Auntie was Bible-faithful. She was Bible-loving. She was Bible-professing

Indeed, no one has shown more hurt and displeasure regarding biblical mis-application in today's world as did Auntie Lizzie. She made her emotions known with clarity, not just regarding the church back home but also when she spent some time in the U.S. in the 90's.

Coming to the University of Yaounde at a discerning age, when futility often preys on good judgement, Auntie Lizzie helped to keep me on a steady path. I lived with Auntie Lizzie for two years in Messa (alongside Nchaffu Mbiwan and the late Elizabeth Ewusi). Fresh from class some evenings with philosophy-laden ideas from my professors about God, Auntie would diligently puncture holes into each of those arguments. Even as I left her home for Univerisity housing after 2 years, we made the church in Djongolo our weekly meeting spot. After leaving Cameroon for Germany and late to the United States, letter-writing became our sole means of communication. Those letters were stuffed with spiritual readings and passages.

Sometime in the early 90's Auntie Lizzie sent some manuscript that she needed for publication. Together with my late wife, Efosi, we found a typist (Diane) who did the typing and made 200 copies of the 30 page booklet that was mailed back to her in Cameroon. Clearly, I was aware how professing the Word and was an all-consuming part of her life and I had to do everything to make it happen.

She visited me and my family in Baton Rouge, Louisiana after my last child was born in 1995 and we reciprocated with at least two trips to Houston, Texas when she spent time with her daughter, Namondo. Although our letter-writing exchange was not as intense after new developments in my own life, she remained a spiritual life line. True to the point, when i began teaching a Bible study class of relatively older white professionals in my own Southside Baptist Chruch, the multiple insights in my lessons often came from Auntie Lizzie's teachings over the years. I will sorely miss her.

She was so studious with her Bible. She supplemented this with Christian novels as well as Readers Digest regularly. Her exquisite and meticulous attention with God's word was only matched by the diligence she showed in her work as a Directrice of the Ecole Bilingue or the deliberate gracefulness she showed on the dining table. (I had my first taste of Eru at Auntie Lizzie's before it became a national obsession).

The post of Directrice of the leading school for Angolophones in the capital city would make anyone feel honored. Yet, Auntie Lizzie was solemn and unabrasive. She preserved along the way and put faith in her God unitl 1981 when se returned to the Southwest and later retired in 1985. That 1980-1981 period, espically the end of one yuar and the start of another was marked by one parituclar event: The death of Acha! I had left Yaounde for the Christmas holiday to spend time in the Buea Archives for Research only to get news on January 01 that Acha had died in a car accident. Along with other Mbongo family members, I quickly left Buea through Kumba for Mamfe, spent almost a week there of sorrow and pain. I returned to Buea and then Limbe before going back to Yaounde for shcool. About three days after school resumed at the Univeristy I was forced to return to Auntie Lizzie in Messa with some debilitating illness. I had never been so gravely ill before or even after. As I lay in bed for several days with medication, my real prayer was not so much for myself but that Auntie Lizzie should not have to go through another death (my own) weeks after we just buried her only son, Acha.

In one of my prayer sessions, well after my illness, i expressed my regret that I will not see my cousin Acha anymore. To this, Auntie Lizzie stormed back in her usual emphatic detail and stutter, reminding me about the centrality  of the Resurrection in the Christian faith. That message served me well then, but even more when my own wife died in January 2001.

For those who could not see her, for those who could not hear her talk anymore, for those who realized she could not recognize faces and voices past and present, the answer is simple. The old order of things has passed away (Rev. 21:4). As she lay sick over the past years, she was already in a better country: that is, a heavenly one (Heb. 11:16). She had been reduced to a child (who had to be watched, cleaned and force-fed) in order to meet her Eternal Father. For some reason our good Lord seems to let this transition happen as a means to bring us even closer to Him. Yet this is not a backward step. It is one that is forward-bound. It brings us to a new life just as we started our first life at birth. 

In this new city, we pray that all the questions, that worried her about the church and today's Christianity, will receive the surest illumination from the glory of God (Rev. 21:23) in that heavenly kingdom.

Let this Biblical warrior find her true rest in Heaven.

In Praise to Our God©

 

When death in inexorable eloquence assail, let us go;

Confident in the power of the blood, let us stand;

Let us with wisdom stand and testify to the Truth;

So if we today must die, let us die to live eternally

 

Let us live and not an inch to the left be swayed or blown;

But if to the right, let us there enquire in His holy temple;

In faith, ardent and true, she ran the race to the very end;

So in living or in dying, we will praise God’s Holy Name

 

 

If so, why must I flinch and lament at the gates of Zion?

Why must I cry if death into immortality has morphed?

O why must I another tear shed for my dear Aunty Lizzie?

For the sting of death I know is utterly swallowed up in victory

 

 

Applauding, yes we applaud the very great reunion of all His saints:

Big Mama, Aunty Lizzie and Aunty Mojoko, Mola Fritz, Papi and Efeti;

With strides firm and hands high and lifted up, walk, praise and pray;

Into the beauty of His Holiness, let your voices ring in praise to our God

 

Granny-Granny,

Words alone cannot express how privileged and grateful I am to be your son-in-law. You prayed with and for me during those dark moments as a troubled child and even as an adult. As you well know, my mother (Grace Nsela Ngoo) died in England when I was ten years old and I never recovered from her untimely death until your daughter literally forced me to visit her grave site in London on March 2008, which of course was your initial recommendation.

As a troubled child growing up in Victoria, (Cow Fence), you recognized my frustrations in life while you taught Sunday school at Basel Mission/Presbyterian Church. After observing how stubborn and unstable I was you pulled me aside and prayed with me. Apart from the steadfast love from “Big Mama” my Grandmother, I felt some comfort and assurances from the advice you gave me never to stray away from the Lord and to accept Him as my Lord and savior. To be honest, at that time I did not have a clue what you meant. During Sunday school classes you took your time to make certain that I could recite Psalm 23. So you now know, that has always been my favorite Bible passage. Thank you very much for such a spiritual awakening. As you yourself once jokingly said, God might have used you to spiritually prepare me to maintain a God fearing matrimonial home with your daughter. Yes Granny, I have tried my humanly best to stay within that spiritual path. Hallelujah!

I very much thank you for assisting me in alleviating  the pain and frustration I experienced for such a long time and for giving me my wife – your daughter who has changed my life for good. Thank you for the time you spent with us here in Houston and taught me what it takes to be the head of a Christian household and to pray daily as a family. Yes Granny, your grand children Eric, Acha and Nsela will forever be grateful to have had a grandmother of your caliber. Oh! Before I forget, did you know that Acha is now in the USMA at West Point? Please make sure you mention this milestone to Grandpa when you see him. Yes Granny, a Bible was given to Acha by his mother before he left for college.

Granny-Granny, I pray the Almighty God to assign you as an Angel to watch over the Ndando-Ngoo household! Rest In Perfect Peace!

Your Son-in-law, Victor Elokan Ndando-Ngoo

Dear Egbe,