I understand why you said you did not want any tributes read for you after you had heard me read my father's. You were unsure of what I would say. I was saddened when you said that because I know you are well loved by many. If only you look down and see the hearts of all these very nice people gathered around you today, that alone is sufficient testament of the life you have impacted and the seeds of love you sowed in your life time. I never got round to thanking you for introducing me in a roundabout way to KICC. I dropped you on several occasions in KICC at Waterden Road and I always dreaded the traffic and most especially the parking challenge. I always wondered why you chose to travel all the way from Walthamstow to Hackney. Now I know. In fact, allow me to on your behalf thank the visionary Pastor Matthew, Pastor Dipo, Pastor Sam and Minister Toki for the unbiased support, acceptance, and prayers from all. You and I know that without God's special grace and without KICC, I would not be able to stand here with pride and at peace to read your tribute today. This KICC family has not only fostered our relationship but it has totally transformed my life! Thank you mum! I remember you coming all the way to Warren Street to see me when I was expecting Isaac. I still giggle always when I remember your comment when you first saw Isaac. You said "look at his little face". Thank you for putting up with us in your little space that you shared with us. You accommodated us when we both needed it. Some of the things I will remember about you are your sense of humour, your love for dancing, your generosity to your friends and family and your ability to "waka waka" about town tirelessly. You were jovial and always laughing around the house. However you made sure your disapproval was registered when a particular house chore was done haphazardly. My offense was usually not dressing the bed properly or not sweeping well enough. I can still hear "what about the corner? This day in particular you were not very happy and had your equipment for registering your approval ready. I had one look at your face, one look at the equipment. Your equipment varied form flip flops, spoons, napkins or the classical tender branch of a home grown tree. The equipment on this day was a long blue leather cord from one of your dresses. I studied the situation carefully and decided to act fast. As you approached me I displayed a combination of Kung Fu, tae kwon do and Bruce Lee, this was done playfully. When you saw my impressive moves you hastily dropped the equipment and burst out laughing. That was the end of any beatings I had from you! When I was a bit older, you got my dad to burst out laughing at your totally unexpected show of emotion. It was the morning I was to go away for the first time to university. My father had just given me a scary lecture on why I was now too old to be coming home for weekends and half term. When he ended by saying that I should not expect any visits from you or himself you just out of character burst out wailing. I was shocked, and I guess daddy was also so much that we both started to laugh uncontrollably. Of course, then you started laughing at that point too. You used to say the most funniest of things. "Am dead goat" “hunger make monkey chew pepper” and “crayfish is not bent or red for nothing.” You got on with virtually everybody, you made friends easily and kept them very well too. Your friends thought very highly of you; in fact one of them nicknamed you "Eno Mary" (that is “Lady Mary”- a Ghanaian way of saying "goody two shoes). Even at the hospital you were well liked they teased you about your sing song “I shall not die but live”. Isaac will miss your "red rice" (jollof rice.) When I was young, cousins and friends liked coming home because you were always baking; you baked bread, scones, biscuits, and pastries and sometimes your own concoction, a combination of all of them. What can I say about your business skills? There is nothing under this planet that you have not sold. There will be very few people here today who have not entered into a sort of business transaction of some kind with you. Your love for trading kept you fit and well-travelled. Bangkok, Jerusalem, Ivory Coast, Cotonu, US, Germany, Canada, Costa Rica., Italy, Amsterdam. As for Africa at one point in Ghana all the custom officers knew you! You used to joke about how you would rather not be around sour faced people. You said it often that you did not like being around "melancholic" people. You preferred it when people around were cheerful. I guess it clashed with your personality because you did not particularly like black either. You could not get used to the black that we Ghanaians wore for funerals, and you said you never wanted that. You were so much against it so much that at daddy's funeral you turned up in navy blue! How you got away with it even in the village is a wonder. So we made sure today there will be very little black. I am sure you would appreciate the colour for today if you were here. Talking about Ghana, I think it was the most admirable thing you did to go all the way to Ghana and even to the village for Daddy's funeral, considering the circumstance at the time. You even went all the way to the Tanyigbe! Even there you were received so well. It was “Auntie Aggie, Akwaaba!” (that is welcome in Ghanaian language. Again no surprise to see you distributing the gifts you brought for them. You woke up one morning and almost in tears announced you were fed up with your name AGGIE. When I asked you why you started smiling but you could not think of a more suitable name. Mummy, you will now be most fondly remembered as aunty AGGIE, Aunty AGNES, Aunty Joke, Nana and Mum. You were my mum and you did everything you could for me as a mother. I have changed my foot mat, taken all my papers from the chair in my hall and I promise to check my hair so it does not stick out. You have no idea how special I felt when you told me only last month that after I had prayed for you, you felt so much better, had less pain and slept very well that night. I will miss you mum. Be good and try not to fight daddy when you see him. Keep smiling and rest in peace. Your daughter Annette