The Perspective
Atlanta, Georgia
July 20, 2020

Nanu Dee (Anna Worwlee Tenbloh) 1937 – 2020

I see myself as a tough guy.

That part of me I believed all these years.

When you are in the business of opinion writing, advocacy, and politics in general as I have been for decades, you see, you hear and you feel it all – everything – the good and the bad that are thrown at you constantly.

Because I am used to people badmouthing me when they feel that I am on the other side of the issue that they care so much about, and others applaud me for the same article because it certainly advocates their interests, makes me always want to do what I think is right.

It hasn’t been an easy week for me, either, and for a guy who sees himself as thick-skinned and private to reveal my vulnerable side says a lot about me and the life I live, or the life we human beings live, and how we are here today and gone tomorrow.

I have been drenched in tears, sorrow, and unspeakable grief with the unexpected passing of my dear mother, Nanu Dee (Anna Worwlee Tenbloh) age 83, years who passed away on July 16, 2020, in Atlanta, Georgia.

According to her doctors, she had COVID-19, but to us, she had underlining health issues that plagued her throughout her adult life.

Mama suffered from pneumonia, high blood pressure, and asthma, and had knee surgeries on both legs and both hands, and also had cataract surgery in one eye.

But when she was rushed to the hospital and admitted during the evening of July 6, 2020, the same hospital she has been visiting for years for her medical problems, we were told this time that she had COVID-19, which shocked all of us her family.

I wrote on this webpage and I also wrote on Facebook that:

 “Liberians are dying, no joke about it.”

I wrote that piece in the wake of the many deaths of Diaspora and local Liberians in Liberia in June and July 2020, and other Liberians who died there over the years as they visit Liberia, or went there to work.

In that piece, I suggested that lawmakers fund the nation’s hospitals and prioritize healthcare.

I also wrote:

“It is not that others are not dying, and I don’t think I am naïve to believe that Liberians are not dying in other countries, either.”

 “But the constancy, the immediacy, and the pace at which Diaspora Liberians are dying while they are either visiting Liberia or decided to live there to contribute to nation-building make you want to ask ‘what’s going on?’

 It is a sad and scary reality.”

I got lots of pushbacks from Liberians who did not care to read and comprehend the paragraph in my piece that reads:

 “It is not that others are not dying, and I don’t think I am naïve to believe that Liberians are not dying in other countries, either.”

A Liberian responded sarcastically.

 “Liberians don’t die in the United States?”

Of course, Liberians die in other countries including the United States.

I just lost my mother in the United States, duh!

In the United States, at least, you have a better chance of having access to a hospital and the emergency room with or without money, and you have a better chance of getting treated by a physician, a nurse or a healthcare professional, and you also have a change to having a prolonged life.

 I did not lose my mother because she had no access to doctors and hospitals. For the sake of argument, we can factor in many reasons; age, chronic illness, natural and unnatural deaths, etc.

However, Nanu Dee (Anna Worwlee Tenbloh) was a loving and caring mother, a hardworking, intelligent purposeful mother, and a trooper who didn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.

Mama never put a foot in a school to learn a b c, but she was street smart, compassionate, and bold as she can be.

After I completed high school and wanted to be a pilot, Mama quietly looked for the money, saved it, and got me a plane ticket to America.

And after I got on my feet in America and could afford to send for mama to join me in the United States, I sent for my mother in 1989.

Mama supported my goals and aspirations – from flight school to graduate school, and she also supported me and was by my side beaming proudly when I received my doctorate in 2017, which was a proud moment for mother and son.

My mother worked in the United States at a major hospital in metro Atlanta from 1989 until 2005 as a housekeeper and retired after knee surgeries on both of her legs forced her to do so.

Nanu Dee, my mother lived in metro Atlanta since 1989 until she was called home to be with her Lord.

And yes, mama was a very religious woman who was always singing Kru gospel music, the ones she sang when she was a choir member at Peter Wleh Church in New Kru Town.

For her motherly love and kindness, I say “thank you, mama!

You played your part, and you lived your life to the fullest.

I am very sure you are proud of me the man you molded me to be, and I am equally proud of you for standing your ground and standing tall in this very difficult country.

I love you.

Rest in Peace, Mama!

Rest in Peace.

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