Most of my day has been spent at a funeral that I was taking part in. I know one or two Nigerian families that have a London base though they spend varying amounts of time in Africa. I have known well respected and now retired Chief Achimugu and his large Igala speaking family since I first came to the church here. I'd not met many Africans before them and it was wonderful to get to know him and his large family. Because the family are rather spread between here and Nigeria it took a while to get to know everyone's name and I'm still not always 100% sure which name goes with which person!
A little over 20 years ago we learned that another baby was on the way – in fact it was twins! Like most of my own and unlike their Nigerian born siblings, Timothy and Martha were born in the Royal Free Hospital.
In my mind, those births only seem a month or two ago. Because I haven't seen Timothy and Martha that often, it's like a series of snapshots in my mind. First, they are newborn babies (she with earrings, him not), then toddlers, then there around 5 or 6, then 9 and suddenly teenagers and so recently a lovely young woman and a smart young man. And I assumed I would go on collecting snapshots as the two became older. However a few short months ago Timothy contracted a virulent form of cancer and died just under two weeks ago.
The whole family are professing believers and it was a privilege to be present at the burial where they sought to express their great grief and their absolute confidence in God. One of the sons, Emmanuel, had worked out a careful programme of hymns (Rock of ages, Great is Thy faithfulness, etc) readings and tributes. The UK chaplain for the Anglican Church of Nigeria Canon Ben Enwuchola led, family members spoke and read, I preached and a Charismatic pastor led in prayer (the only jarring note for me was the round of applause for Jesus - those after the tributes are simply cultural). We used the south chapel at Hendon Cemetery then proceeded to the interment, where I prayed and read Psalm 23. It was the most distressing moment especially for Mrs Achimugu. The earlier tributes brought me to tears. Martha is 21 in April. The idea of facing such an unknown is hard to imagine.
We then headed back to the chapel here where food had been laid on. I enjoyed the opportunity to eat fried plantain, jollof rice, puff puff, etc and to drink Supermalt, as well as talk with the family members and some of their many friends. Chief Achimugu spoke again later, full of faith and full of Scripture. It was a privilege to be there.
(I left as most people were going. I think we avoided a clash with our Korean friends who meet at the church two Thursday evenings a month - I love being in London!).
