By Chris Osa Nehikhare | Publisher, From My Window

There are some people for whom the number 80 simply does not sound right.

My mother-in-law is one of them.

Mrs Esther Ogbeide

Eighty is supposed to suggest slowing down, sitting quietly in one favourite chair and allowing everybody to fuss around you. But somehow, nobody seems to have explained this to Mummy.

At 80, she remains lively, funny, engaging and, very importantly, still interested in what is happening around her. And if you are fortunate enough to sit with her long enough, you may also receive a complimentary history lesson!

Over the years, I have listened with fascination to her stories about growing up and about the Benin of her younger years. Through her stories, I have travelled to (old) Benin. A Benin I did not know, its people, its places, its families, its customs and the little everyday experiences that never make it into history books.

And she tells these stories with colour.

There is always a character. There is always an incident. And very often, there is something that will make you laugh. And then, there is always a song!

I have come to realise that one of the privileges of having an 80-year-old in your life is having access to a living archive. Mummy remembers a Benin that many of us can now only imagine, and I have thoroughly enjoyed being one of the beneficiaries of those memories.

Then, of course, there is the kitchen.

Mummy has not merely visited our kitchen; she has expanded its jurisdiction!

Our menu has grown under her influence. New dishes have appeared, old dishes have been rediscovered, and things I probably would never have thought of eating have somehow found their way onto the family table.

And she remains remarkably active there. There is something beautiful about watching someone cook not simply because food needs to be prepared, but because feeding people is itself an expression of love.

That, perhaps, captures Mummy best.

And she brings that wonderful sense of family that makes a home feel fuller when she is around.

As her son-in-law, I have had the privilege of knowing her not simply as my wife’s mother, but as a woman whose company I genuinely enjoy. We have talked, laughed, listened to stories, shared meals and, over the years, created our own collection of memories.

Today, as she turns 80, I celebrate much more than the number.

I celebrate eight decades of life and experience.

I celebrate the young Benin girl in all those stories who somehow remains visible in the lively 80-year-old woman we celebrate today.

I celebrate a mother, grandmother, mother-in-law, storyteller, historian, cook and occasional uncompromising supervisor of how things ought to be done!

Mummy, may these years ahead bring you good health, happiness, laughter and many more opportunities to sit us down and begin another story with, “When we were growing up…”

We will listen.

Although, by now, some of us may already know how the story ends!

Happy 80th Birthday, Mummy.

You have earned the celebration, the cake, the photographs and, for today at least, permission to stay out of the kitchen.

Although knowing you, I am not sure you will take it.

With much love and affection,