There’s so much to say about Aunty Debbie. Hearing of her passing was both heartbreaking and devastating. It’s hard to put into words just how much she meant to me—and to all of us who were blessed to know her.

I still remember the very first time we met, sometime around May 2018. It was at a birthday celebration for one of her sisters. I attended with my mother-in-law, and that was where I met most of her siblings—including Aunty Debbie. From the moment I met her, she welcomed me so warmly—not just into the family, but into her heart. I instantly felt seen and embraced. It was love at first sight for me. I knew right away that ours would be a special relationship.

Our next encounter was on my birthday, which also happened to be the day of my traditional wedding in Nigeria—a ceremony I couldn’t attend in person because I was in the first year of my PhD in Ghana. That day, Aunty Debbie showed up at my hostel with a birthday cake, flowers, and thoughtful gifts. She could have easily asked someone else to deliver them, but that wasn’t her way. She insisted on coming herself. Not only that—she walked with me all the way to my room, smiled warmly, and said, “You have a nice space here.” She didn’t leave until she’d made sure I put the cake in the fridge. And as she left, she held my hand and said, “If you ever need anything here in Ghana, I’m here for you.”

That was Aunty Debbie—deeply thoughtful, genuinely kind, and always present.

The following month, she travelled all the way to Nigeria to attend my wedding in person, despite how inconvenient it was for her. We had such beautiful moments together. That visit marked the beginning of a relationship that only grew stronger over the years.

During my early days as a newlywed in Ghana, Aunty Debbie was a pillar of support. She offered practical help, uncommon wisdom, and the kind of warmth that made our new beginning feel steady. Many evenings, we would sit together on the couch, and she would share stories and advice—on life, marriage, home, and purpose. She was so down to earth, so full of grace and insight. I still remember how she gently corrected me when I once spelled her name “Debby.” She smiled and said, “I prefer it spelled with ‘-ie.’” That little moment spoke volumes about her attention to detail and the grace with which she carried herself.

She had a meticulous spirit and a beautiful eye for detail. Her home was always tasteful, orderly, and welcoming. She took stunning photos—capturing both the big moments and the quiet, easily missed ones. She loved preserving memories for others, even when she wasn’t in the spotlight herself. That’s just who she was.

She was a giver. She gave her time, her energy, her prayers, and her heart. Her family was her top priority, and she poured herself into those she loved. But her love extended far beyond family lines.

Even after I left Ghana, our relationship continued to blossom. My husband and I had long, meaningful conversations with her—sometimes for hours. We talked about everything: family, travel, the weather, and God’s goodness.

She loved Canada, especially Ottawa. I remember how she shared stories about her previous visit here and her stay at the Fairmont Hotel downtown. We were so looking forward to welcoming her back again.

Just a few weeks before she passed, I sent her a photo of the kids and wrote, “Aunty Debbie, look at your grandkids!” She responded with her usual warmth and encouragement—telling me how proud she was of the mother and wife I was becoming. She ended with prayers, asking God to continue to strengthen me and help me raise the children in His way. I had no idea that would be our last conversation. Even when she wasn’t feeling her best, she still took the time to uplift others.

That same day, she also shared a selfie she had just taken with her sons (one of whom had come to visit)—even though she said she didn’t feel “photo-ready.” But she still took the photo. She still shared it. Always present. Always real.

One memory I hold especially dear happened early last year when I won the Vice Chancellor’s Award at the University of Ghana for my PhD dissertation. I was invited to select two people to represent me at the award ceremony. Without hesitation, I chose two women who had profoundly impacted my life: my mother-in-law and Aunty Debbie. That’s how deeply I valued her place in my journey.

Even though I couldn’t attend the event, Aunty Debbie made sure I felt present. She took pictures. She celebrated me as though it were her own achievement. And afterward, she called to tell me how proud she was. That’s the kind of person she was—celebrating others with her whole heart.

And there’s more. After we had our daughter, I wasn’t expecting anything—but Aunty Debbie kept asking for our house address. I finally sent it, not knowing what she was planning. Then one day, I woke up to a package—gifts for the kids, straight from her. She didn’t have to. But she did—because that’s who she was.

We’ve lost a rare gem. Her absence is deeply felt. Her voice, her kindness, her joy… they echo in my heart. Aunty Debbie colored our world with her love, her wisdom, and her light. She gave herself so freely and so fully. And now, though we grieve her loss, we thank God for the gift that she was.

Aunty Debbie, thank you. Thank you for everything.

We love you always, and we’ll never forget you.

Rest peacefully, beloved.

Your legacy lives on in all of us who had the privilege to know you.

~ Moses and Pearl Akazue