Justice Scott Moses Ataba Anyangwe

Sweet Memories of My Dad on this Special Day


Papa, today is your birthday.  Happy Birthday with the Lord.  Unfortunately you are not here for us to celebrate you.  However, I celebrate you through this tribute signifying what you were and are to me.

• My Dad, My Role Model

Papa, you were my role model. Your accomplishments in your professional life (first a Pharmacist, then a Judge) served as an impetus for me to work hard. How could I have ever disappointed a father like you? I hope in my own little way, I have made you proud!

• My Dad, My Mentor

Papa, you were such a great source of academic support. You were my mentor. You provided me with all the advice and support I needed to go through my education from nursery school all the way to high school. We had conversations about what I wanted to become when I grew up from my tender age of 5. I told you I wanted to become a doctor and you did everything possible to make my dream come true. I remember you bringing back from England all the Letts Educational Study Guides for Biology, Chemistry, Physics and Mathematics just so I could do well. I remember you were so adamant about me doing well in physics that you had to get me a Physics teacher (Dr. Richard Timah) to give me extra classes on Saturdays, just so I can pass my ‘A’ level physics.  You told me it was important I pass "A" level Physics to gain admission to medical school. You gave me all the career advice you could to help me make informed choices as to what career path is best for me.

You were my number one mentor.  I regret the fact that you never lived long enough to see that that mentee of yours made good use of your advice. Thank you so much for being such an excellent mentor.

• My Dad, My Teacher

Papa, you instilled in me values of justice and integrity, values I still adhere to until this day. You taught me to stand up for my rights, for fairness and to seek justice for all. You also taught me that there is a time to step back and let go. I still remember the story of the Ph.D. student in your days in Nigeria who never obtained his doctorate degree because the advisor wanted to be first author on a publication, but the student insisted on being first author since he did most of the research. You were a great teacher.

•  My Dad, My Friend

Papa, I remember when I took you to the hospital in Yaounde to see your doctor. You could not even go up the staircase and you had your hand over my shoulder and neck. As we walked along gently, almost everyone who saw us stopped and asked me “Votre père est malade?" I could not even respond to these kind folks, because I was fighting back tears of sorrow.  It was so painful - how can my dad, a vibrant,  fun-loving man,  find it difficult climbing the staircase and needed assistance? That was extremely painful for me to see.

I remember the conversations, the fun times, the jokes (for example, pointing to something on the wall during dinner time and when we turn our heads, you snatch our pieces of meat from our plates;  giving us strange English names such as Wereteka all for fun), the walks and games of scrabble, the beautiful dresses when you return home from England on your medical trips or from the USA from attending a conference. You were my big friend.

•  My Dad, My Pharmacist

Papa, you always made sure we had the proper nutrition. I remember you insisting that we had cod liver oil and yeast in our food. Sometimes the taste of the food after adding these ingredients was not the best. But now that I know better as a scientist, you were just ensuring that we obtain from the cod liver oil our omega 3 fatty acids for brain development, vitamin A for eye health, and vitamin D for bone health; and from yeast, the B-complex vitamins, in order to stay healthy. I remember the nights you stayed up with me because I had an allergic reaction to nivaquine, and you still had to go to work the next day. Thank you for all the sacrifices. My first encounter with pharmacology was through you. Although you were no longer practicing as a pharmacist, you still had your pharmacy books and I remember perusing your Goodman and Gilman pharmacology textbook whilst in high school, and I would ask you questions regarding the pharmacy profession. You always responded candidly. 

•  My Dad, Simply The Best
  
  

You were such a fun Dad. I remember the story-telling times - we all sat around the fireplace in the living room, eating some fresh corn, groundnuts, and plums and listening to your stories. Since all of us did not have English names, you decided to give us some very strange and interesting names like Margaretta and Wereteka, all for fun. When you started having strands of white (grey) hair, you will gather us and ask us to pick out the grey hair. For every grey strand removed, you rewarded that person with 10 frs CFA. In spite of your jovial nature, you made us realize when we needed to be disciplined. You were a Dad that rewarded good behavior and admonished bad behavior. 

As a child in our Kumba days, you took us to lunch in AziMotel , educational trips to RTC, fun trips to Victoria and Douala Airport. Then in Bamenda, the fun times continued to roll. Trips to Safari Lodge, Bali; IRZ Bambili; and road trips to Ndop. I remember you and Mami taking us to watch Cirque Bleu and the Kassav Musical Group at the Congress Hall in Bamenda. Oh, all the trips to Saker Baptist College to make sure I was doing well health wise. I remember the number of times you came to CCAST Bambili (usually with Ejenyi, and Nkonghonyor before she went to Lourdes College) to visit me with food Mami had prepared. Some of my friends came to know you because of these frequent trips.

I was so proud and glad that I had you as my father. I admired you and had so much respect for you. I witnessed you once preside over a case, and that created a deep impression in my mind of who my Dad, the Judge was, outside the home. You were an intelligent man, gifted in every way possible.

Even when you travelled to the UK because of your failing health, you always did make time to shop for us. I remember the times when you came back home with some roast chicken and drinks for Mami from Bamenda Club 58. You were truly a loving and selfless dad. Thank you for all the love you bestowed on us.

Even in your sick days, you took us to Nigeria to take the JAME Exams and after then, made another trip to Nigeria to look for university admissions for all of us. You made sure we were all settled in the university. You were such a dedicated father and wanted the best for your children.
 

• Your Demise

The last time I spoke to you was in December 1987 just before I left for Nigeria, whilst you were in London.  When I got to Nigeria, I sent you a letter and a Get-Well card sometime at the end of January 1988. Then, making a phone call was not as easy as it is now. In that letter, I told you about my experiences in my first month in Nigeria and how school was going. I wished you a quick recovery and prayed for you every day. It hurt so much after you passed on, when I realized that my letter and Get-Well card were never read by you - the letter came unopened in your suitcase, because it finally got to you after your demise due to an error I made in the zip code.  I feel that pain to this day. 

March 8^th means more to me than our (Akoh/I) birthday, and unfortunately it is not pleasant.  That was the day I got the news that the Minister of Justice says my father wanted to see me. I pondered- why would Papa's Minister be the one to tell me that Papa wanted to see me? Something did not seem right about this picture, I could feel it. So, even though the bearer of this message was trying so hard to conceal the news of your demise three days prior, precisely on March 5^th, I knew immediately that you were no more. Although my instinct told me you were no more, I was still very hopeful that what I was feeling could not be true, until I got to GRA Bamenda on the night of Friday March 11, 1988, and boarded a taxi with my guardian Aunty Mary Fonjun, who was kind enough to take me from Nigeria to Cameroon. As I gave the taxi driver directions and described the house we were going to, he said to us "weh, una dey go for that house wey that Justice Anyangwe die?" The truth finally was revealed and reality hit me - my Dad was no more. Yes, that day will never be forgotten.

Taken together

Papa, My Dad, My Role Model, My Mentor, My Teacher, My Friend, My Pharmacist - you were an embodiment of all these and much more to me. You were simply the Best.

Papa, I miss you very much and not a single day goes by without me thinking about you.

Thank you so much for being such a fantastic father.  

Thank you for instilling in me moral values of good character and integrity as well as self-confidence and justice for all.

Thank you for being the Best Dad.
 

Papa, I want you to know that our God has sustained us through these years and Mami has been the Best Mother.

Mami, THANK YOU for all the sacrifices you have made over the years. I LOVE YOU.

Papa, I LOVE YOU and MISS YOU VERY MUCH.

To me, you are gone physically, but alive in my heart daily. Continue to Rest in Perfect Peace in the Bosom of The Almighty.

Your Daughter, Njwen.

My dear family & family friends,

I have visited the Website created by some of you in order to keep in ever-green memory our long-departed brother, your dear father Justice Scott Moses Ataba Anyangwe. We sadly recall that he departed from us at the peak of his earthly activities, when we needed him more than ever!

Of all the living, I am probably one of the very few family members who lived events life with him, especially in his last days on earth. In the eighties, I had barely reached the level of dining on the same table with him. And I was, indeed, his very special “guest” every time that I drove into Bamenda with my recently acquired VW Beetle. Yes, his last days which we could never had foreseen.

My brother was a very cheerful person. He easily endeared himself to his interlocutors. You could never meet and freely chat with him even for a few minutes without going away with very impacting positive memories! He radiated new life into this family, and instilled confidence into every Oshie person, near and far.

When the most unexpected news broke out, we cried out bitterly!

At his funeral, the Royal family met and nominated me to deliver the funeral oration on behalf of the entire family.

Later, about 23 years after his funeral, I decided to document some hards facts about him, for posterity. This is in the Book “Oshie: People, Places, & Events”, pages 41-43.

We loved and cherished our brother dearly, but the ways of our father, who art in Heaven have never been understood to me. I have researched in His Word, and have not found the answer or anything close to it. “On the contrary”, the Holy Book tells us in 1 Thessalonians 5: 16-18 to “Be joyful always, ... and be thankful in all circumstances...” And that is precisely what we have been trying to do, in keeping to this commandment. One day, we shall surely re-unite with him, to part no more!

NB: Before I sign off…One significant element about me must come out now, or never! By the latter part of 1972, I had finished CCAST Bambili, with some GCE reasonable results at the time. In September, I had resisted training in all other options, except becoming a lawyer. My brother moved from Bamenda to Buea to advice me: “Martin, I am a lawyer. Carlson is now reading first year law in the University of Yaoundé. We cannot be a family of only lawyers! You also have good grades to study engineering...”. My brother prodded me on. This encounter was to alter my life’s course for ever. And today, I thank God for the inspiration he gave me to become an Electrical Engineer. (I am also fully aware that he also used the same energy to bend the life path of late Uncle Maurice to become the accomplished accountant that he was).

Ni Martin