Member of Parliament (MP) for Bolgatanga Central, Hon Isaac Adongo has recounted how his late mother Mrs Mary Abane Adongo sold colanuts and cigarettes to raise him.
The lawmaker says he is what he is today by virtue of the selfless efforts of his mother saying “I have had an incredible gift of a mother from God. For 48 years Abane, as I affectionately called you, was my everything: my mother, my sister, my first love, and later, my Chief of Staff”
In a tribute for the mother who died some months ago and was buried last week he said “My relationship with you started in 1971, when I had the rare privilege of the exclusive comfort, enduring care and protection in the warmth of your womb.
I have had an incredible 47-year journey with you, experiencing all the emotions of life: happiness, joy, sadness anger, disappointment and fulfilment of life.
In all these years, you molded me into the man I have become. My childhood years with you were my very best in life.
You were such a determined and hardworking mother who wanted the very best for me even as a poor mother.
I hardly woke up from bed to see you in the house. You would leave the house at the break of dawn to your ‘office’ at the Obuasi Central Lorry Station, where you sold kola nuts and cigarettes to raise me.
You looked forward to the late afternoons when I returned from school to be with you. You cherished the presence of your only biological child.
The joy on your face anytime I was with you was so visible that your colleagues often teased you about it.
You preferred to call me Aduko, my traditional frafra name. You would proclaim it loudly to announce my arrival at your ‘office’.
Anytime I misconducted myself, you would seat me down and tell me a moving, emotional story that ended in a lesson against my misconduct.
Those stories were interspersed with songs from your most melodious voice that touched my heart and fed my soul.
In some instances you would bring me to tears as you counselled me and you made sure the songs and stories broke my heart so much so that I wouldn’t repeat my unacceptable acts.
You often reminded me of my status as the only child from a ‘poor’ but blessed family.
The saying that “the only egg of a bird can’t afford to go bad “was a much repeated adage of yours which was a call on me not just to do it, but to do it right; a reminder to stay within the strait and narrow; a declaration that I carried the future of the family and I couldn’t afford to fail.
In 2014 when I informed you of my decision to go into politics, you were very sad; you feared for my safety and believed politics was too dangerous a career for you to risk your only diamond on.
In late 2014 you gave me your blessing albeit reluctantly. Since then you became my eye in the community and my ‘Chief of Staff’ when I became an MP.
For the past couple of years that you have lived with me as a politician in Accra, you would give me a lot of pep talk and a list of things I needed to attend to after your engagement with my constituents who approached you.
You would follow up on previous assignments that you had given me to be sure I had executed them.
Sometimes you would look at me and say: “my son, God has given you a heart of gold. Continue to support needy people even at the expense of your comfort. God has destined you for great things.”
You were often worried when I was in the news for various reasons. Often, you would admonish me and remind me of my humble background as a son of a poor peasant farmer and petty trader.
You would call me and ask: “Aduko, what have you done that I hear of you everywhere? Please come home early so I can talk to you before I go to sleep,” you would request of me.
A month before you left to be with your Maker, you told me you wanted to return home in Bolga in October. Later, you told your daughter in-law that you would return home in December.
True to your word, you left us on 24th October to begin your journey home. You stopped over in Tamale and truly arrived home for your eternal rest.
Today marks the beginning of the new phase of our incredible journey.
Abane, you will forever be in my heart. The country celebrates you today, the people of Bolga celebrate you today, the people of Tindonsobligo celebrates you today, the people of Dagweo celebrates you today. And I can’t thank God enough for these 48 years of incredible memories for the rest of my life.
Before you died, you told me you had no bitter feelings towards anyone who ever wronged you. And you made a special plea to me to unite your family, and entreated me to take care of your surviving siblings the way I did to you.
You asked me to thank Eric Ayambila, my Personal Assistant, who you blessed with all the money you had on you before you began your last journey to the hospital.
You asked me to thank him for all the care he gave you in your travels to the hospital.
Eric is here today to bid you farewell. Eric, your mum is grateful for your love and care in her most difficult time on earth.
To all of you who made time to be here today to honour her memory, God bless you for the show of love for this incredible woman whom I was privileged to call my mum, Mrs Mary Abane Adongo.”
The lawmaker says he is what he is today by virtue of the selfless efforts of his mother saying “I have had an incredible gift of a mother from God. For 48 years Abane, as I affectionately called you, was my everything: my mother, my sister, my first love, and later, my Chief of Staff”
In a tribute for the mother who died some months ago and was buried last week he said “My relationship with you started in 1971, when I had the rare privilege of the exclusive comfort, enduring care and protection in the warmth of your womb.
I have had an incredible 47-year journey with you, experiencing all the emotions of life: happiness, joy, sadness anger, disappointment and fulfilment of life.
In all these years, you molded me into the man I have become. My childhood years with you were my very best in life.
You were such a determined and hardworking mother who wanted the very best for me even as a poor mother.
I hardly woke up from bed to see you in the house. You would leave the house at the break of dawn to your ‘office’ at the Obuasi Central Lorry Station, where you sold kola nuts and cigarettes to raise me.
You looked forward to the late afternoons when I returned from school to be with you. You cherished the presence of your only biological child.
The joy on your face anytime I was with you was so visible that your colleagues often teased you about it.
You preferred to call me Aduko, my traditional frafra name. You would proclaim it loudly to announce my arrival at your ‘office’.
Anytime I misconducted myself, you would seat me down and tell me a moving, emotional story that ended in a lesson against my misconduct.
Those stories were interspersed with songs from your most melodious voice that touched my heart and fed my soul.
In some instances you would bring me to tears as you counselled me and you made sure the songs and stories broke my heart so much so that I wouldn’t repeat my unacceptable acts.
You often reminded me of my status as the only child from a ‘poor’ but blessed family.
The saying that “the only egg of a bird can’t afford to go bad “was a much repeated adage of yours which was a call on me not just to do it, but to do it right; a reminder to stay within the strait and narrow; a declaration that I carried the future of the family and I couldn’t afford to fail.
In 2014 when I informed you of my decision to go into politics, you were very sad; you feared for my safety and believed politics was too dangerous a career for you to risk your only diamond on.
In late 2014 you gave me your blessing albeit reluctantly. Since then you became my eye in the community and my ‘Chief of Staff’ when I became an MP.
For the past couple of years that you have lived with me as a politician in Accra, you would give me a lot of pep talk and a list of things I needed to attend to after your engagement with my constituents who approached you.
You would follow up on previous assignments that you had given me to be sure I had executed them.
Sometimes you would look at me and say: “my son, God has given you a heart of gold. Continue to support needy people even at the expense of your comfort. God has destined you for great things.”
You were often worried when I was in the news for various reasons. Often, you would admonish me and remind me of my humble background as a son of a poor peasant farmer and petty trader.
You would call me and ask: “Aduko, what have you done that I hear of you everywhere? Please come home early so I can talk to you before I go to sleep,” you would request of me.
A month before you left to be with your Maker, you told me you wanted to return home in Bolga in October. Later, you told your daughter in-law that you would return home in December.
True to your word, you left us on 24th October to begin your journey home. You stopped over in Tamale and truly arrived home for your eternal rest.
Today marks the beginning of the new phase of our incredible journey.
Abane, you will forever be in my heart. The country celebrates you today, the people of Bolga celebrate you today, the people of Tindonsobligo celebrates you today, the people of Dagweo celebrates you today. And I can’t thank God enough for these 48 years of incredible memories for the rest of my life.
Before you died, you told me you had no bitter feelings towards anyone who ever wronged you. And you made a special plea to me to unite your family, and entreated me to take care of your surviving siblings the way I did to you.
You asked me to thank Eric Ayambila, my Personal Assistant, who you blessed with all the money you had on you before you began your last journey to the hospital.
You asked me to thank him for all the care he gave you in your travels to the hospital.
Eric is here today to bid you farewell. Eric, your mum is grateful for your love and care in her most difficult time on earth.
To all of you who made time to be here today to honour her memory, God bless you for the show of love for this incredible woman whom I was privileged to call my mum, Mrs Mary Abane Adongo.”