18th Memorial: Tribute to Peter Y Omale

18th Memorial: Tribute to Peter Y Omale

Monday, December 30, 2019 10:24 pm

Peter Y Omale

By Funmi Peter-Omale

Love (and life) begins and ends with God.

God loves us, we love others; by this we show how much we love God. It’s a tripartite covenant

9, 467, 085.6    minutes
157, 784.76   hours
6, 574.365 days
939.195 weeks.

Each one totals 18 Christmases!

How time flies, and ever so slowly dragging and dragging and not in a hurry to be forgotten. That’s how it’s been, that’s how it is. If you’ve never experienced it, don’t even try to hazard a guess.

Ironically, the wound has healed but is as deep and raw like it was just inflicted yesterday. The scar has refused to fade, and the pain has metamorphosed into a dull throbbing ache.

Funmi Peter-Omale

In my mind’s eye, I see friends and family thinking, “she ought to have gotten over him, and moved on by now”… Isn’t it true, what they say, that it’s easier said than done? Would anybody want to picture, or even put themselves in this kind of position? No?

God forbid I’d wish what I and my children have gone through, and still going; that I’d wish it on my greatest enemy.

Notwithstanding, don’t feel sorry for me. I am not soliciting for a pity party; that train left about a decade ago. This is a new me, God has helped me to put my pieces together and cello taped them together with heavenly mercies and graces from Jesus Himself. It is my personal journey, and I’m neither chasing nor racing with or against anyone… I set my eyes on treasures above.

So, as I have done for 18 years, I celebrate the life of this hitherto ever  bubbly, ebullient, selfless and loving friend, brother and father of my children, Peter Y Omale. I suppose one of the biggest thing I missed about him was that deep throated and rich laughter, with that glint in a pair of eyes that are as transparent and pure as snow.

Peter Y Omale, right, and Funmi at then FRCN Ibadan sometime in 1991.

The worth of life is not measured by how much of material assets we amass while here; it is the legacies, the testimonials and the good works and words we leave when we depart from here. Because it’s easy to forget the gifts and material things, but the way someone treats you, making you feel special and always putting you on top of their priorities; live with you forever. EVER.

Peet, you were the first and only person to ever treat me like a queen, who saw my uniqueness, understood and worked with and on me from start to finish. (if you know you know! )

Now I understand why God brought you my way that fateful day we met. He wanted me to have an angel to lean on through my difficult times. God wanted me to have you to turn my life, my faith and fate around. He wanted you to be the father of my dream children.

Oh Lord, I’m very grateful for all the years, the times – the good and bad; all the lessons, and all I came across in those few years we were together  (just a little over a decade!).

My darling Pee, your chikito (one of your pet names for me) has carried on as you’d always wanted. Because you always instructed me to always remain strong, no matter what’s happening. Like you knew you’d pass first, there were snippets of instructions and what you wanted for your “children” as you’d say! Like I ain’t there mother! (today’s world would call you chauvinistic or controlling, I call you caring and loving)

Richard, Mariam, PJ, Stephanie and Kevin Joshua are shining your light and carrying on with your legacies. They’re making you proud by God’s grace and mercy.
“All your children shall be taught by the Lord, And great shall be the peace of your children.”

Thank you God, thank you Jesus for grace and mercy. Thank You Holy Spirit the unfailing Comforter.

-Funmi Peter-Omale writes from London

The following piece is from the late Omale’s daughter:

Mariam Bibi Peter-Omale

We had a Father!

By Mariam Bibi Peter-Omale

This morning I think about a memory from my childhood.

I had gone to visit a friend and shortly afterwards her dad  got home from work. I was super excited to meet him as I had never met him before. I still remember how utterly shocked I felt few seconds later because not only did my friend hastily drag me into her room without even the opportunity to say ‘Good evening, Sir’, her siblings SCAMPERED as well.

I couldn’t relate with that!

I couldn’t relate with that AT ALL!

I couldn’t relate with that because in our own home, when daddy comes back from work, it’s freedom time. Time to abandon the  chores (no thanks to Funmi Peter-Omale Chief Chore-giver); time to boldly declare that you no longer wanted to eat whatever meal you were served because of course Daddy will say it’s okay; time to give a detailed breakdown of how your day went because Daddy was gonna listen no matter how tired he was… and if we had friends over, daddy was sure delighted to meet them and secretly evaluate them.

Mariam Bibi Peter-Omale and her father

It’s 18 years today since Daddy passed. So much has happened. We were broken and battered for a bit, but not any more. I look at all of us and I see reflections of Daddy. Reflections in the bald heads the boys inherited, the generosity of heart, genuine care for each other and for others, the mischief and warmth among us, so much laughter and the amazing fact that we live far apart yet we are so close, still tightly bound.

Thank you Daddy for your example;  for showing and not just telling alone.

Our children have/will receive better legacies because you started to show us how it’s done right.

We had a Father!

Fondly remembered with love,



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