LA FAMILIA!

In my short years of living, the importance of family to my growth and development cannot be overemphasized. It is with a sense of pride that I say to anyone who cares that I come from a close-knit family. Right from the nuclear family where we all carry one another’s burdens and celebrate our wins together, to the extended side which includes both my paternal and maternal relatives, it is a unit anyone would be proud of.

In terms of relationships, what I had with my cousin Adewale Akinade is close to the filial relationship between a child and a parent. Or how does one describe the one who was there to take care of one as a toddler and continued up until adulthood? While we may have slowed down over the years, we remain very cordial.

Growing up, my Dad was mostly out of Ibadan. I remember vividly how we traveled to pay him a visit in Ilaro, a town in Ogun state. The ‘we’ here was the trio of Mom, Yinka and me. Those were days when Dad was the Correspondent in Ilaro. He was later transferred to Calabar and subsequently Lagos. All the while, we spent plenty time at the SPAC community in Sango with my paternal aunt, Pastor Comfort Adegboyega, who is also more of a grandmother than an aunt. Mom would drop us there and head to her office while we would be taken to school and return there till she came to pick us up and we go back home at Ijokodo, all in Ibadan.

Sango was a community for us and there we forged alliances that remain valid today, these relationships are not biological but we remain constants in one another’s lives.

I continue to respect my parents for the lives of sacrifice they have both lived till now. We attended schools anyone would be proud of and they made it look as if it was comfortable for them when they were only striving and doing their best.

My paternal cousins who are numerous to mention are the best anyone can wish for. We shared a close bond when we were growing up and some of us remain very good, going to different extremes to see ourselves rise and make meaning out of life.

We had Pastor Adewole Babalola, who we called Big Daddy. It is such a shame that we did not take a picture together. Baba would have been 87 on July 25th. Any family with that kind of Big Daddy is very blessed. This I write without any bit of contradiction. He was quite a good example of many things. He took life very easily and was a role model for me. Some of the things I do and how I carry myself are down to the things I learnt from his lifestyle. Big Daddy was the pillar on which I rested in uni.

He once called me into his office and shared with me how my Dad sacrificed his early education so that he (Big Daddy) could stay in school. According to him, that was why he would go to any length to ensure my Dad and his children got the best education possible. He ensured that he stayed true to this promise. It is quite unfortunate that I was unable to reciprocate before he passed. It pains me to the bones but The Almighty who owns us all chose to take him, and we knew it was best he departed this planet when he did.

Along with Big Daddy, my cousins in Port Harcourt (Bros Sege, Kayode and Busayo) and the others in the clan who I cannot mention have played tremendous roles over the years.

No one has a paternal side without having a maternal side. Mom, being the only daughter of her family was surrounded by ‘men’, two of whom I spent the last weekend with. Her elder brother with whom I was not so close because he was the one who Mom came to live with in Ibadan and was far older.

However, the duo of Uncles Segun and Sanmi, both Pastors now also took care of me and my brothers when growing up. Uncle Segun was more officious while we liked Uncle Sanmi more because we could relate with him more. However, my first driving experience was with Uncle Segun while waiting for my admission into Junior Secondary School. All that is in the past now though as we relate very easily. Hoping we can do better with their children, who are my maternal cousins because we are not as close as we are with those on my father’s side.

Interestingly though, I maintain a very great relationship with Abiodun Adekanmi, my cousin who got married last weekend. He is the son of my mom’s elder brother. His siblings are equally cordial and his other sibs spent some time with us little children too. They lived in Molete in those days.

The two best siblings anyone can have are Yinka, my first friend and Nifemi who came when I had left home for Olivet Heights Oyo. I hold amazing memories with Yinka who was my playmate along with Tomi. As a team, we did well and have weathered storms together.

Nifemi, who was very much younger became my ‘work’ when I returned to Ibadan. As I finished secondary school and he was still in Subuola Memorial Nursery and Primary School, I was assigned to take him to school. I guess that was where we really bonded. As a toddler, I took him into the dining hall whenever my parents came visiting in Olivet Heights. He was the other sibling I had really desired and when he came, I loved him through and through. I still love him these days and he is making me feel the exact same way.

That I started this 28-day writing challenge is down to his support, which are mental, financial, material and even beyond the ones I have typed. I am typing and writing regularly because of Nifemi, and I am grateful to the Almighty that I have seen him grow into such a fine and calm gentleman, who is ‘useful’ and understands what is expected of him.

Some other people have become family. These ones earned the tag family because of their actions, not because they are blood. We have grown in leaps and bounds, becoming family and staying constant. I only hope and pray life will not rob me of these ones.

WEDDINGS, BRIDAL TRAINS, AND BEST MAN DUTIES

Featured Image: Ablad and Vero

Remember, Saturdays are for owambes, especially weddings. It is only fitting that we toast to the weekend by reminiscing on weddings and the thing with bridal trains which brought about me engaging in some Groomsmen and Best Man duties. In fact, this is what set the tone for my (unfinished) web series which I titled Best Man Duty.

Before we dive in, I’d like to heartily congratulate my newly wedded cousin, Biodun Adekanmi, the one we call Ablad, and his beautiful wife Veronica. May this phase of your lives come with plenty blessings.

Requests came from my friends in the early 2010s to be part of their bridal trains as Groomsmen. Why won’t it be so? I was one of the most eligible bachelors at the time so it was no surprise. Sometime in February 2012, Pastor Sogo got hitched and it was a whole team of SPAC young men. The designation for that epoch-making occasion was Men of Honour, which was the trio of Abot, Emmanuel Utulu and me. It was fun, but I had to run back to work that evening to run the fifth day of my night shift.

After that, I more or less became a professional Groomsman and Best Man. A few events here and there, with great memories that have refused to fade. Being on the same Bridal Train has given me friends too.

2013 December, I had a busy December. To be specific, there was a wedding for me to attend each Saturday that month. Of the four, I attended three; of the three, I was one of the Groomsmen at one, the Best Man at the second and a friend/family of the couple of the third. While I would have enjoyed being one of the Groomsmen at Benjamin Igboekwu and the adorable Florence, the professional commitment that meant I needed to be at work that night robbed me of all the fun my ‘men’ had planned.

The following week, I was my buddy’s Best Man. This was a wedding we planned together and if you have read my Best Man Duty series, the Church setting was inspired by this particular wedding. It was the kind of wedding where there was no Bridal Train except for the Ring Bearer, Little Bride and the Best Man and Chief Bridesmaid.

Some months later, I was back on Best Man Duty when another of my buddies got married. There I met the beautiful Dayo Alajiki, the Chief Bridesmaid. Dayo is my muse for Cynthia in Best Man Duty. Those hours we spent supporting our friends to get married laid the foundation for the friendship we have today. We don’t get to interact every day these days because of the demands of adulthood but we remain very cordial. One of us would hit the other up occasionally and we would have mentally-stimulating conversations. Back in the day, we would chat all through the night whenever we were both on the night shift. She would have been a love interest had I not known that she was committed to another. Despite that, we both know how to draw laughter from each other and that made us look forward to conversations.

In the same year, my mate from part of primary school and the other part of high school, Tunji Jaiyeola, also put me on his bridal train. As a matter of fact, it was on his wedding day that Best Man Duty started, first as one or two episodes, then I expanded it and it got acclaim so I kept writing till life happened and I could not keep up or end it the way I wanted to.

I feel old these days and when I see folks on the Bridal Train do the things I and my people did back then, I just smile and remember how it was when my ‘set’ also actively took part in Bridal Train duties. How the babes would dress to impress, and sometimes overdo that they end up looking like masquerades. I also remember how the guys would walk with different types of ‘shakomended’ posings, possibly to catch the attention of the babes and all.

Link-ups happened o, let us not lie. Some ended well and some ended ‘very well’. Some ships sailed but some caught fire before they could sail at all. It is part of life, and part of the process.

Today, I took a look at the ‘Ladies in Wardrobe’, as friends of the bride are called these days and I knew they were having the time of their lives. Perhaps, there could be one or two who will write the perfect story, you know those stories about their wedding starting from meeting at a wedding.

Let me go to bed after the exertions of the last 24 hours plus which saw me go to Ikorodu to ‘pluck a beautiful flower’. Meanwhile, I love love stories and I am looking for one like that since I cannot write mine that way again. Over to you Nifemi *picks race*

FROM TARABA WITH LOVE – Back to Origin, And Back to Base

Like all things in life, everything has an end. Before I could blink, eleven months were complete and it was time to wind things up. First, we needed to go to Jalingo for our low-key Passing Out Parade and the challenge was where to pass the night as I was no fan of staying in NCCF Family Houses despite holding a key post at the zonal level. I was already working on this when my mate, Kayode Ojo and another friend, Adetoun Okunlola visited from Wukari. Kay was on a tour of Local Governments across the state and it was easy for us to link up in Takum when he came around with Toun. We were meeting for the first time but we clicked like long lost siblings. They both attended our send-forth party where I was given an award as Ambassador of Peace. The rationale for the award remains a mystery.

Christiane was in Jalingo but staying down her end was not something I would consider at all. I reached out to Bayo Adewuyi, my egbon and old neighbour during our growing up years. He was serving in Jalingo and lived with his uncle’s family. He eagerly agreed to have me in his place, and his uncle’s family was equally welcoming. However, it was a bit boring for me as my host was in town grooving while I lay my fever-wracked body in his room. Its sad that Boyo has gone to be with The Lord. May God rest his soul and continue to comfort everyone he left behind.

Then my phone rang, and it was a call from Kay. Guy man was asking where I was and I explained my situation. He encouraged me to move over to where he was and I did that without hesitation. We tried locating a few of the guys in the Lions Den during camp but it did not happen. I also called Christiane but it did not look like we were gonna see so I let it go and went back to the place Kay had gotten for us to sleep.

It was 7^th July, and the day started with a very heavy downpour. In my part of the world, rainfall on special days like that was a good omen. We eventually set out after saying thanks to our host, a clergyman who gave a room to the trio of Kayode, his Corper host and me the invited guest. Off we went to the NYSC state Secretariat to collect our certificates, the reward for whatever it was each of us was up to in Taraba state. Yes, I saw old faces again – Christiane, Titi, Wyclef, Judith and many other faces I did not mention before like Femi Gabriel, Dr. Ore and many others. Some of these folks I have not met since that day, others I have met once or twice again.

Time to go back ‘home’ at Takum. The bout of fever that plagued my days leading up to POP was finally packing its load but I could not exert myself much yet so I sat gently in the bus, the same one that took us to Takum the first time ever, and returned us to Jalingo for POP before taking us back to base. Kayode was his ever-boisterous self on that trip, making different comments and cracking jokes. He was called ‘militant’, right from camp and that tag sort of stuck. We returned to Takum at nightfall and I woke up feeling different. I felt free, like no one could harass me for not complying with rules and all.

For the first time since I took office at NCCF, I did not attend fellowship that Wednesday because I was no longer a Corper. Just like Lanre did for me, I also ensured the duo of Tunde and Anmak were fully brought into NCCF and made excos. They went to fellowship while I stayed indoors, enjoying my freedom and just lazing around. I had a guest, the delectable Amara. We caught up and talked on ‘what-might-have-beens’ and all. One person I have not mentioned at all is Chinenye! We started off antagonizing each other at any given opportunity and ended up being very cordial. Just maybe any of these people could have made my initial desire not to end up with a Yoruba woman come through.

Before I eventually became cordial with Chinenye, we would throw jibes at each other and she would massacre my name, calling me ‘Yeye’ while I in turn called her ‘See yeye’. Eventually, we became chummy and she would playfully call me ‘doughnut’ while I called her ‘chin-chin’. Interesting days those were. We remain cordial till tomorrow.

Once POP ended, my ever conservative and careful old boy started calling me to pack my stuff and head back home but I wanted a bit more freedom. The last two or three days in Takum were enjoyed with my friends – Tunde, Kola and Anmak. I also ensured I spent time with Jide Odeyale, our Papa who had become a very good friend from our time serving together at NCCF. Jide is one of my clients these days as I have had the opportunity and pleasure of editing the manuscripts of at least three of his published books.

Leaving Kwambai was something that gave me mixed feelings. My students composed a song for me. I remember the song as I type now. The part that got me mushy was when they called me ‘Captain of the School’. Indeed, Sikas was the place for me. I realized my posting there was the answer to their prayers. A certain Uncle Goodluck had finished service and left before me and they were desirous of getting a replacement for him. I turned out to be that exact thing they prayed for. It was then that I realized that God sort of orchestrated the delay I had that did not let me make Batch A so that I could be the round peg needed in the round hole needed to ensure the development of the students was not truncated.

I almost betrayed emotions but I stood stoutly and gave a parting lecture. I was sent off along with Jonathan Raoru. Our interactions these days are via social media. So much for social media!

I met up with Kay and one of his friends who I met through him, a beautiful petite lady called Kenny. Together, we passed the night at Benue Links Park, the place that we had come to understand as being safe to sleep after the brothel fiasco after orientation camp. It was a beautiful journey back home, with my 30 litre jerry can of honey which I was going to sell in bits and use to engage myself while waiting for a job.

How will I end my Takum experience without mentioning my Living Faith Church, Takum. That was the place! As much as I tried to hide, I was found out. That seems to always happen to me. I want to be in the background but I am brought to the limelight. I met Pastor Joel Yakubu as the Lead Pastor but when we were leaving, it was Pastor Sam Akor, an energetic Benue man that was pastoring. I remember him sending us forth and declaring that we would soar on the wings of help. Indeed, my story so far has been one of help in different ramifications.

You must be wondering why I used almost a week of my 28-day challenge to write about NYSC which is just a month shy of one out of the years I have lived. It is because that period left indelible marks in my memory. I learnt lessons, I made friends, I forged alliances, I saw things and I made memories I will continue to remember.

This week, we continue with another set of shared experiences and inking of thoughts.

Blessings!

APPRECIATING OUR MOTHERS

Featured Image: www.actionagainsthunger.com

WE celebrated International Women’s Day on Friday and I wrote Hello Dear Woman. Today is for Mothers, the ones in whose inner recesses we all spent the first nine months of our existence before we started counting our lives in terms of calendar months and years.

Today, we have celebrated Mothers and the phenomenon called motherhood across our various worship centres. We have extolled their virtues and placed them on the highest of pedestals for the world to see. Today we have stood to give wonderful rounds of applause, hailing the ones who took the seeds sowed and made full-blooded humans out of them.

And in Church today, one of us (men) did a Spoken Word presentation for the Mothers. What struck me was the lines “won ni iyaniwura, sugbon iya ju wura lo” which literally translates as “they say mother is as valuable as gold, but mother is of much more value than gold”. That is one expression I will like a million times and more.

The pains a mother will bear for her offsprings, the bond she will share with her fruits. The way a mother will fight tooth and nail to ensure her children do well in life. All these and more cannot be overemphasized.

I have written pieces for my mom, for mothers and the womenfolk generally. I have done poetry to celebrate these ones whose existence gives our lives and living the real essence and meaning. Those however won’t be enough to salute them for all they do. Dear Mothers, you are so appreciated.

From personal experience, I saw my mom sacrifice a lot for us. As children, she would buy us clothes before thinking of herself and ensure that we lacked nothing. When people say “iya ni iya mi” (my mother is a mother), I know it mostly comes from a place of deep introspection. They mostly would have remembered how much their mothers gave for them to be who they are.

If you now have a praying mother, consider yourself blessed. Those ones labour on their knees and in every other posture available to invest prayers in the lives of their children. They fast like its going out of fashion and do everything needed, all to have their children thrive and prosper. Mothers go to any length and their sacrifices remain ever valid.

As parents ourselves now, we see things from the prism of our parents. I see how much my wife denies herself to ensure our children are well cared for. I see how the women around me go all out for their children. I then recall how the ones who brought us up did the same. The first thing that comes to mind is the funny thing we say in Yoruba “oo ni bo ni be” – “you won’t recover from it”.

While that looks like a bad thing to say, truth is no woman who has tasted motherhood wants to recover from it. Our parents, mothers especially, these days now tend to our own children, their crowning glory. Tell me, have they “bo ni be?” They go to the market and pick things for their grandchildren and children, almost forgetting themselves. How will they escape? Once in, it is a duty they owe and to which they are forever tied.

In closing, today again I bow in awe of the amazing wonder of the creator that brought about motherhood. Like I ended one poem I wrote for my Mom some years ago… “Mothers there are, Mother you are. And I so shudder, that you so matter.”

Happy Mothers Day dear mothers!

Prayers up that The Almighty bless you all. AMEN!

HELLO DEAR WOMAN!

Today’s post is dedicated to Yejide Osiberu, the one many know as Woman of Substance, the brain behind WOS Network. The good Lord bless you, keep you and make you fulfilled in all that you do. Cheers dear friend.

Featured Image: Yejide Osiberu

Hey you amazing daughter of Mother Eve, it’s the day the world celebrates you every year. Indeed you deserve to be celebrated on a regular basis and the world has found a way to make many days your day. Of course, there is every March 8, International Women’s Day; there is Mothering Sunday; and there are plenty Mother’s Days. You deserve these days, let no one make you feel otherwise.

As I pen this to you, my social media timelines are awash with you and many others like you who are celebrating themselves and their ilk today. In these times when we advocate that women support women, that is a very welcome development.

Either by design or otherwise, Shola Allyson-Obaniyi’s Obinrin Ni Mi, which translates as I am a Woman, a beautiful song that is a hit track always rents the air waves on this day and finds its way to me. This afternoon, my Yoruba sports programme, Ege on 32 FM 94.9 was anchored from start to finish by women today. As Gracious Grace took the reins and anchored with her female partner, I smiled at how much women have broken boundaries and shattered barriers.

Today, let me simp and appreciate these wonderful creatures whose roles in our lives and daily living cannot be over-emphasized.

After Shola Allyson, I regularly remember Lagbaja’s WhoMan every March 8. The masked music legend, one of my favourite sang and would actually make men green with envy with his deep words. The track which was released in July 2005 by ‘Omo Baba muko muko’, as Lagbaja fondly calls himself opens with the words “human kind shall never find justice until first we ensure justice between the sexes.” He went on to ask who man is without woman? That is the gospel truth.

Who are we without the females the creator has blessed us with? Remember I posted some days ago about humans and relationships. Women occupy a pride of place in every sphere of life and should be saluted for how well they hold things together. When the chips are down and the ‘super man’ does not know where to turn to, it is the woman that picks the gauntlet and make things happen.

Its not only Shola Allyson and Lagbaja that make March 8 great. Darey Art-Alade’s You’re Beautiful also celebrates the woman. I’m listening to that beautiful work of art as I type, singing “La la la la” along with Darey. The part where he throws me into hysteria is where he says “obinrin lo laye, e se’ke fun won, e se’toju won daadaa” (the world belongs to women and they should be cared for and pampered)

These lyrics are the truth that reflects how we should pay homage and obeisance to the women God has blessed us with.

Back to Lagbaja, he sings about how women bear the pains and stress of pregnancy with dignity. Can super man ever? Just like Lagbaja said “what a sight it would be to see man in labour” C’mon dear woman, you deserve all the accolades, and even more. We are nothing without you. You complete us, we complete each other. If you love some music, you should take a listen to the deep lyrics Lagbaja used to bless that track.

Dear Woman, celebrating you is something I get to do as much as I can. Remember, I did For Every Woman here sometime ago. Remember how we always find the time to applaud motherhood. You blessed creatures are blessed and we will continue to appreciate you today and always.

A word for you Mama Eve’s daughter, be the one who stands for your kind when the world wants to go against them. Be your sister’s keeper. Remember the ‘Women supporting women’ mantra and please apply it as much as you can, as long as it is reasonable to do so.

This is not saying you should support bad behaviours or side with nonsense when your kind misbehave. Call those ones out so that we can set them straight. Scum has no gender, it is found among humans and not just a gender thing.

Darling one, Happy International Women’s Day. You are celebrated today, and we will celebrate you on all the Mothers’ Days too.

See you tomorrow on Day 9