…on this day, my dad, David, was born in Halifax, West Yorkshire. He was the elder of two children and his sister, Joyce, shared the same birthday two years later.

Unfortunately he died suddenly and much too young in 1984, just a couple of months before my wedding. At some point soon I will try to do something a little less random and more detailed as a bit of a memorial to a lovely man with a strong sense of family, duty and service and a really ‘dad’ sense of humour!

For now, here is just a small selection of rather random photos I pulled out of the ‘archives’ to mark the centenary. For more on Nigeria, please see the “A Nigerian Experience” tab – hopefully also to be updated on a more regular basis.

The Savile Park pic is the earliest one I have of dad – there are very few in the earlier years and once he had a camera, he was generally the photographer, so the overall earlier selection is a tad sparse.

Flossie, his mum and my gran, is pictured here with the two children.

The two siblings are pictured looking rather serious, I think, because this must be as they are about to enter Smith’s Home (orphanage/children’s home) in Rastrick for what would turn out to be the next 8/10 years as the 1930s economics had left my gran, a seamstress, in a parlous position. I knew nothing of this until after my dad’s death, which shocked my mum as they had assumed I knew!

Dad was in the Coldstream Guards and military police for his military service, after which he went to Leeds University.

In 1950 he married my mum, Jean and in 1952 they left for Nigeria as he succeeded in entering the then Colonial service. This experience left us all with huge affection for the country and people.

The (colourised) seaside photo is from West Hartlepool, early 1960s, which goes some way to explaining the ‘beach chic’ overcoats! I do recall taking the original on my Brownie 127 (eat your heart out, Martin Parr!). I was clad in the inevitable ruched swimming cozzie that would try its best to drown you on entry into the water, with the rest of the family cosy in their overcoats!

Having failed to persuade mum that she would enjoy being snowed up for about 6 months each year in Arctic Canada, dad compromised his wanderlust with a return to Nigeria in the mid-70s, this time as a Federal Inspector of Education. As a once-fluent Hausa speaker, I think he half-expected to return to the North, but was posted to Enugu in former Biafra. Sensitivities were still running very high after the Biafran war and the aftermath of war was still very visible in Eastern Region, as I discovered when visiting them. We were in Nsukka when one of the several military coups took place and had a rather hairy dash back to Enugu via various military checkpoints to meet the curfew.

Unfortunately, the tropical conditions and probably stress triggered a heart condition in my dad so my parents returned in 1979 rather than renewing the contract, having met and made good friends there.

The second, happy and silly beach picture of Dad and my aunt Hilary striking poses for the camera was on a lovely holiday in Boscastle, the last we took together.

Much loved, much missed.