At Ufesiodo, he would go to say Mass, and would go for very long periods of time without food. I remember one occasion after Mass, he told me to do the same. I was supposed to be going around getting flowers for the church. I was so dizzy that I had to clime a tree to look for palm nuts. After a while I had to come back quietly to the kitchen and have my meal.
– Gabriel Okafor of Uru Ogidi
He was very abstemious. He ate very little himself, but did not force us to fast. In fact he would insist we should eat well: “You are young men; your stomachs can digest stones. You need to eat well. As for me, I’ve been eating for forty years. I only need to conserve what I’ve acquired.
– Archbishop Stephen Ezeanya
During Lent, Father Tansi collected stones and pebbles. Very hard pebbles, unknown to people. Only myself knew that, because I often travelled with him and went round in his home. He left the pebbles on the ground, and at night he slept on the pebbles.
– Gabriel Anwulora of Umunnachi
He laid great emphasis on cleanliness and neatness. His soutanes would be patched, but spotless.
– Archbishop Stephen Ezeanya
He loved poverty and simplicity. Even when his soutane had patches, nevertheless it was clean and neat. The soap he used was the ordinary one within the reach of any poor person.
– Fr. Mark Ulogu, Tansi’s curate who later joined him as a Cistercian Monk in England
In the virtue of poverty, as well as in many other virtues, Father Tansi copied his favourite saint, the Curé of Ars, almost to the letter. The poorest material in the market was good enough for his soutanes, which were usually short and tight fitting, to avoid any waste of cloth. His helmet, the time it was in vogue, was of the poorest quality. A friend of his had to constrain him to burn one very old and tattered helmet he continued to use for years. His towels were native made, ota, woven from raw cotton wool.
– Mons. Peter Meze
