Most people knew her as Dr Joyce. At home, we used her Angami name, Perhieno. Her brother called her Abou, which translates as big sister. My mother had her own name for her, Arhibu. It was always pronounced with great affection. I cannot recollect her addressing any of her own children with the degree of affection she gave to her Arhibu. With good reason. When Dr Joyce entered a room, she lit it up with her presence and warmth. She was a doctor who healed just as much with words as with medicines. When she began working at the Neilhouzhii clinic in town, patients flocked to her because they felt safe around her. Each patient mattered to her and she respected their personhood. When she took a much needed one week break, patients preferred to wait for her return than submit to be treated by other doctors on duty.
After a successful 12 year stay in the UK where she worked at the Liverpool Women’s Hospital, she returned to take care of her mother and serve her people. As news of her passing spread, friends of hers have been writing in, expressing shock and sorrow. ‘She helped me so much with my young sons at a very difficult time of my life. I missed her so much when she left in ‘86,’ wrote a friend from the UK. One testimony from a young person who had worked with her was, ‘She taught me empathy and compassion.’ I expect more eulogies will come in, but what strikes me is that a large number of people are writing about what a gentle, kind-hearted person she was. ‘One of the most beautiful, genuine and kind-hearted souls I know,’ writes a person who came to know her late in life. Kindness is such a rare quality in the world, more so in today’s world. Dr Joyce touched the lives of others with her kindness. Not that she was a pushover. No way. She was a fighter when It came to issues close to her heart, such as the HIV/AIDS afflicted individuals and their families. In the nineties she was part of an organisation spreading awareness about HIV/AIDS among old and young members of the community, as they supported efforts to stop the increase of the disease. ‘Dr Joyce taught me to interview individuals from HIV affected families to highlight their plight. It included psychosocial stigma, poverty and associated problems. We made them aware of vital support systems’ reports a former worker. In a period when HIV patients were facing great stigma, she went in and worked tirelessly for their welfare. These works need documentation to show how much a single person with a heart for genuine change can achieve.
In our family circle, her presence was always a comfort and a safe place. As an older cousin, she took care of us and set an example of hard work and sincerity. Ever encouraging of our little dreams and aspirations, she was our favourite because she always treated issues close to our hearts with respect while showing us how we could do it better. Our children also say: ‘She was such a big part of our childhood,’ What a blessing it has been to have had such a wonderful older cousin.
Dr Joyce was a child of the fifties and sixties. We looked up to her generation because they wore the latest clothes and played the Beatles songs and were just as cool as any teen idol. She was our hero. And always will be. We always want to emulate the compassion that was so great a part of her. It was what set her apart all her life.
Go well, Perhieno. You lived your life like a bright light in dark places. Heaven lent you to us for a few years, and we have no right to hold you back from the glory that awaits you. May we all learn the lessons you preached with your life. May God bless all who have cared for you when you needed it. Amen.
