Published Tributes

A Tear and A Smile For Kate Hoomkwap

Author: Rev. Fr. Matthew H Kukah | Date: 16/03/2009

 I still recall my first meeting with Mrs. Kate Hoomkwap in the late seventies. My friend, Msgr. Cletus Gotan and I had gone to say a quick hello to Sr. Mary Patrick Dimlong. We met them having a heated debate. She barely looked up as she was in the middle of making a point. We settled down to our seats in the rather expansive sitting room of the Sisters. Then, apparently pausing to catch her breathe before proceeding to make her own point, Sr. Dimlong greeted us while Kate greeted Msgr. Gotan first. Not known for his generosity with sharing his friends, Msgr. Gotan took his time before finally introducing me as his friend. Kate paused briefly and then said, To, sannun ku fadodi mutanen Allah. As if we had been intruders, the two women returned to the topic of their debate which apparently had been over the decision of Bishop Lefebvre to literally break away from the Catholic Church on the grounds of their decision to abandon the old Latin rites of the Holy Mass. I do not remember the entire debate, and I also had not really heard about this clerical rebellion but I recalled that Kate had been more accommodating in her views than both Fr. Gotan and Sr. Dimlong. She had ended the conversation by saying: But if that is what the man wants to do, why should anyone stop him? As long as he is not breaking the law of the Catholic Church or disobeying God, why should the Vatican not leave him alone? I had been struck by her deep insights and wondered how a lay person was as it were giving some direction of caution to those who ought to have known better.

In the 80s we had occasional meetings while I served as a foundation priest for what would later become the Archdiocese of Abuja. At that time, she was making inroads and taking both the Catholic woman and the Catholic Church in the northern states into the womb of national Catholicism. The Catholic Women’s Organisation, CWO, had before then looked like a Christian version of the national Council of Women Societies dominated thought not deliberately by Southern women. By the close of the 80s, Kate stood head, head tie and shoulders over and above almost every woman in the Catholic Church. She wore her beauty, poise, class, elegance with a sash of humility and dignity. She stood out in every crowd. She shepherded her good friend and sister, Mrs. Lawrencia Mallam into the sanctum of women in the Catholic Church. Together, they left an indelible mark in the life of the Catholic Church. They brought respect for the Catholic community in the Northern states of Nigeria. Encouraged and supported by both the late Archbishop Gabriel Ganaka and Archbishop John Onaiyekan, Kate would finally negotiate her way unobtrusively into the heart of the Vatican by virtue of her ability to swim majestically whenever and wherever the opportunity presented itself. You could never listen to her and not want to hear her again. This is how she managed to forage her way into international recognition in the Catholic Church rising from the humble hills of the Plateau through the Savannas and swamps of the Nigerian Church to the universal Catholic Church. Her recognition and appreciation stretched from Ireland, Poland, and the United States to different parts of the world.

It was as Secretary General of the Catholic Secretariat that Kate and I became very close friends. I grew to love and appreciate her confidence, humility and love for the Catholic Church. She loved the Church as her mother and loved her country as her father. We had our own disagreements but we later became confidants of one another. She would bring her speeches for me to read, criticize and help wherever I could. We always quarreled over many things. I accused her of taking me for granted because she would appear at short notice and expect or insist that I process a visa for her in the shortest time. Her caveat would always be, what are friends for? She would return from her trip and proceed to Jos only to surface with the excuse that she was in a hurry. I would tease her about this one sided friendship where she travels, does not even buy me a newspaper or magazine and expect me to run around for her. She would promise to mend her ways, but she never did. But, anyone who knew Kate would attest that she was an unbelievably caring and loving person.

 In 1996, I received a letter from the office of the Foreign Minster of Austria inviting me to present one of the leading papers at an international Conference on Religious Dialogue around the world. They asked me to nominate a lady who could make some contribution during the plenary session. I did not have a second thought in nominating Kate. We traveled together to Vienna. After we checked into the hotel, I went straight to bed because I was so exhausted. I had not asked Kate what room she was in. I woke up around 6pm and asked the reception to connect me to her room. There was no answer from her room. I came down stairs and wondered around looking for her, but there was no sign. I went back to my room and at 7pm there was a call from her. Where have you been, I asked as if she was a little girl who had strayed from the care of her mother. I went round to find the nearest Church, she said to me. She told me she had found a Church somewhere but that it would be difficult for her to go to Mass because the times clashed with the morning sessions of the Conference. Well, I said to her, this is not Nigeria where you have Mass at 6am. But I am so used to it, she said. I left the matter there. We had dinner and parted for the evening because I told her I needed to read through my paper again. At 5.30am, I called her room. She was awake. We can have mass at 6am, I told her? But I told you that there is no 6am Mass anywhere, she said. Well, I told her, I have found a chapel somewhere. Room 509 is a chapel I said.  I had known that she was in room 500, but had not told her what room I was in. Wow, she said, I cannot believe these people have been so generous to us.  You mean the hotel has given us a chapel? I will brush up and be there before 6am, she said. At about 5.55am, she opened the door and lo, there was my small altar all laid out. She realized it was my room not a chapel and stood back in shock.  Is it not 6am Mass you said you wanted, I teased her. We continued to have morning masses at 6am every morning. After the last mass before we left for the airport, I reminded her that she had not made any offering. She responded that this was a private Mass and since there was no congregation, she had no obligation to make any offering. I like this little Mass box she said. When this one gets spoilt, she said, I will replace it for you, she said mockingly.

 

At the conference, Kate’s contributions were very memorable. All the oyinbos listened attentively each time she made an intervention and I knew most of them marveled at her combination of beauty and brains. I felt so proud because I was just showing her off like a trophy. Wherever Kate made an appearance, you would know she would do the Catholic Church proud. She was always in a class of her own. I remember one of the officials from the Foreign Ministry who commended me for what he referred as an exceptionally brilliant presentation said to me; You know, Nigeria is so blessed. With people like you and Mrs. Kate, your country should not be in the mess it is in. I had heard these frustrating comments so often at international forums, so I simply managed a fake smile and a thank you.

With Kate, every moment was gracious in her presence. That is why, although we had many quarrels and arguments over very unserious issues, as my friend, her younger brother Emma would testify to, each time we met, it seemed as if it was only yesterday. In a conversation between her brother Emma, herself and I, our names were never called somehow. She introduced a new vocabulary rather unconsciously. Emma called her Mutumiyarka whenever we spoke about her and he avoided getting into our quarrels as he would say. She on the other hand referred to Emma as Mutuminka and since I was always complaining about Emma too, she avoided getting into anything to do with, kai da mutuminka. Kate could rehearse a conversation she had had with Emma mimicking his voice in a way and manner that with the door shut, you would never believe it was not Emma speaking. So, of course, when Emma and I met at the steps of the family house, I could not help but say, Mutumiyarna ta tafi while we hugged and consoled each other.

I had spoken to Kate I think a month or so before her death. I had put the call through to her complaining that I had stopped by the house, left a note and that she had not shown appreciation of that effort. To buy herself time and escape my wrath, she quickly said; Hold the phone, your friend, Hajia Bilkisu is here and is anxious to say hello to you. I said to her, Don’t Bilkisu me, and before I could finish my sentence, Hajia Bilkisu was on line apologizing on behalf of our great friend as she said. I knew she and Hajia were very close. Kate had an incredible network of friends spread across the Church, her political sphere, women groups, and other professional bodies. Her friends and friendships defied regional, ethnic or religious boundaries. Most people would have felt proud to be Kate’s friends any day and any time.

 I heard about Kate’s condition from Mrs. Lawrencia Mallam definitely her best friend (It was also fitting that I heard about her death from Lawrencia too). She called to tell me that Kate was ill and had gone into a coma. When I recovered, I called George immediately. We spoke and he told me the condition she was in but warned that people were not allowed to visit her. He told me Kekuut was with her. We spoke with Kekuut who confirmed the restrictions. I made up my mind that I had to see her. I assumed she was at the National Hospital so I went straight there knowing that I would find a doctor who would definitely let me see her, no matter what. I got to the ICU, asked but the nurse told me there was no one by that name. I protested, she took me round but we did not find her. Could something have happened between my speaking to Kekuut and getting to Abuja? I called Kekuut who then told me they were at Abuja Clinics. Ah, Abuja Clinics was a consolation since it was owned by a friend of mine and a former parishioner in my Abuja days. I got there and luckily, the nurses recognized me, called Kekuut who led me to the room where she was. At the entrance, we were all dressed up in protective gear. I looked like a cross between a ward attendant, a nurse and a fake doctor ready for surgery. To reduce the tension, I asked the nurse if I could go with the protective gear so I can make yanga for my friends. She laughed and led us in. I saw Kate lying still. I kissed her forehead, called her by name. Surprisingly, she opened her eyes, looked at me and made as if to smile, but the faint smile receded and she lay still again. I managed to hold myself and Kekuut and I prayed. I was glad I had managed to see her. I feared what her life would be like if she recovered. I thought she might become strong enough, travel abroad and by the grace of God come back to take life easy. But the owner of the garden had other ideas about what to do in His garden. He was already looking for one of the beautiful roses for a special day in Heaven. In death, Kate shocked everyone. She had insisted on being buried in a grave with no plaster (earth to earth) and being laid in a simple wooden coffin as her hero Pope John Paul 11 had done.

For me, knowing Kate was a privilege. I know I probably exaggerate if I claim to write a few lines about her. I did not put down any words last year because I did not imagine I had the qualifications to do so. But, I always considered Kate a friend, a big sister and a counselor. If women were priests and could hear confessions, believe me Kate would have been my confessor. We shared so much in terms of dreams and hopes for our Church especially in the Northern States. She supported me immensely at the Catholic Secretariat. We shared our anxieties and fears, but also had great hopes. Her departure has left such a big hole in our hearts. But the majesty with which her children conducted themselves was a source of inspiration to us all. I looked at Kekuut and her siblings and wondered how time had flown. I recall Kate bringing them to me at the Catholic Secretariat as they headed for the United States for their studies. Her dispatch rider, Emma had come to me with the good news; Mutumiyarki na zuwa da yara fa. Ka da ka je koina fa. She says you have to bless the children before they take off. Of course by the time they came, I was ready. We prayed in my chapel in the Catholic Secretariat. I told Kate that I had taken the assignment seriously and then proceeded to produce a bottle of champagne which Mutumina proceded to perform its funeral rites.  A few years later, these young girls have come into a world of their own. By the time I caught up with Kekuut in Boston, she had graduated, had a good job and a nice little house. I went to bless the house after negotiating that she would cook tuwon shinkafa for me. Happily, it was one of the little things I did before leaving Boston. Even then, I was struck by the spirituality of her little home especially in such an environment. Anyone who knows Kate would testify that her children will be the first leaving testament of the values she espoused. Their composure, decorum and poise at her funeral left most of us in shock. They rose up to the occasion. George knows that his remaining years will be full of joy because he has replicated Kate in many dimensions. While here, her angelic radiance brought light to many hearts. Now, we realize that Heaven had always been missing an angel. As her children launch her foundation, Kathryn Hauwa Hoomkwap Foundation, KHHF, we appeal to all her friends to support this attempt to immortalise her. It was great that Archbishop Kaigama worked hard to give her a well deserved recognition for her indefatigable services to our Mother the Church while she was still alive. We are right to shed a tear for her, but her personality and belief that she is with the saints should make us smile.

 

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