When Bei was about Form 4 or 5, she asked me again,"Ma Fri, do you know that I can't remember a lot about Papa?" She wanted to know how things were back then especially between Papa and her. I believe she asked this question quite often because she wanted to reassure herself that Papa had actually lived and that her faint memories weren't fake. I had to start recounting all her mischiefs when it came to Papa. On Saturday mornings when Bei decided to put on her track suit, it meant Papa had to do some sports that morning. They would run around they whole house. And Mummy would say, "Eh nge'eh Nini! a bey nvo'eh wok na'ah rhane fiteh Bei" (What trouble! Nini you will break your leg following Bei around). But no matter what Mummy said, it didn't change a thing because Bei kept mocking Papa by sticking her tongue out, daring him to catch her and Papa couldn't just resist. I remember when I passed the Common Entrance Examination. Papa personally took me for my interview in Saker Baptist College, Limbe. He sat there the whole time, in his uniform, while I took the interview, waiting for me. I felt so safe just knowing he was there with me. He always did things like that for us, he was always there for us. He was so proud of us, always pushing us to give the best of ourselves. Unfortunately, I never went to Saker. After Papa's death, Mummy couldn't afford to let us go far away from her. Akwen told me that, they kept calling my name during roll call in Saker the whole first term. She had to always remind them I wasn't coming to Saker. And then, there was this one time in Garoua, while at work, one of Papa's colleagues,an expatriate, walked up to him and started talking about his daughter (Bei). He told Papa how interesting and brillant she was. Papa was astonished, he couldn't understand how the man knew Bei. Apparently, Bei had been manipulating with the house phone and dialed the man's number and they started discussing. When Papa asked Bei about it, she said "Aie, meh tou'eh wot mbaghe wey, a yeg me seg" (yes, I called the whiteman, he's my friend) and went back playing, as if nothing had happened. We all burst into laughter. I remember it was Papa who bought my very first pot. Tifuh and I used to play pretend cooking behind the house in Garoua. Actually it wasn't always pretend because they were times when we will actually built a fire. Don't know whether to say fortunately or unfortunately, but one day we built our fire just behind his room, below Papa's bathroom window while he was taking siesta. He came out and caught us "en flagrant delis", he didn't find it funny. A few days later, he came home with two small pots for us and told us to cook in the kitchen rather than outside. he even insisted that we keep him a share of whatever we cooked. Mummy didn't find it funny, she kept complaining that we'll finish her gas but Papa said he'll buy another bottle if that was the case. He ate the first thing I ever cook, spaghetti. Unfortunately, it had too much pepper for his taste. I remember the first cultural week we attended. Many people never really knew who we were but we left our mark in one way; we could speak Ghamombu so well. And this is thanks to our parents.Papa was a man who loved his village and its culture, he never forgot where he came from and made sure we knew who we were and where we came from. The dialect was and is still a must speak in our house. It was a guarantee that anyone who stayed with us, no matter brief the stay, left the house speaking a little bit of the dialect. I love you and miss you all the time, you live on in our memories. Titi Fri Abah.