Touched and Changed: Self-Reflexivity and Reciprocity in Fieldwork

REMEMBERING MY ADOPTIVE FATHER As I stood with a tumbler filled with gin in my right hand, heightened nerves and trepidation overcame me. I was standing in front of the final burial and resting place of my Nigerian adoptive father. It was summer of 2022—the first time I was able to travel to Calabar and see my adoptive family since his passing in 2020. COVID was of course to blame, as it prevented me from traveling. Prior to this, I fondly recall phone calls (and messaging via WhatsApp) from my home in Ohio (USA) with my adoptive mother and the rest of the family about his passing. Yet even with my amplified anxiety as I stood there, I was also oddly calm and at peace. The comfort of my adoptive mother and brothers standing beside me helped subdue the restlessness I felt. I was about to pour libation to my adoptive Papa with the support of my Nigerian family. This was not the first time I poured libation in the name of the ancestors of the Ekpe/Mgbe society. However, even though I had done it before at the request of my teachers, I am never at ease about it. Even though I was well trained on how to do it, following the proper protocol and lengthy steps, there was always a power about the process that I feared and did not completely understand. However, when my elder teachers asked me to do it, and for the sake of my adoptive father, such thoughts left as quickly as they came. Right before I started the offering my mind scrolled to one of the lessons my adoptive father taught me: to respect the knowledge my Ekpe/Mgbe teachers taught me and have confidence when it was time to demonstrate it. The moments after I successfully offered and poured the libation, relief came over me as I felt something hard to put into words. Upon finishing, my adoptive mother and bothers embraced me, smiled, and were content. After, we sat in the room beside my adoptive father’s resting place chatting and catching up about the things that make one whole. At that moment I was so grateful to the Oqua family for asking me to honor our Papa and the family in their presence, as a member of the family. This was one of the many times I was deeply touched and clearly changed, and although the lasting impact is hard to articulate, the best I can offer is that it made me feel at home. While I was touched and changed, a reciprocal experience was also shared by all present. I was given a great opportunity to honor a beloved mentor through the warm feeling of acceptance by my adopted family. In return, the family had their ancestor honored through libation by someone who would normally be ignorant of and clumsy in this act of religiosity. The success of the libation demonstrated the power and fruition of their ancestor’s teachings to a member of the next (and in this case, a foreign) generation; my adopted father’s knowledge and good deeds continue to live on.