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On this day last year, I wrote about the buildup of events that led to my dad’s passing. I also said that day started the most chaotic year of my life. I didn’t lie. Today, on the second anniversary of his death, I thought to write to you about grief and how I have dealt with it because, in truth, grief does not leave you; it just gets better. Over the past year, across my social media platforms, I talked a lot about how his death triggered emotions in me that I didn't know existed—new descents into the deep, new levels of highs—anything to get into my emotions or consciously get out of the physically overwhelming feeling that was like a weighted blanket most days. Because I lived quite far from home—up north, to be exact—my guardians broke the news to me at the crack of dawn that Tuesday, and I was broken, as anyone who hears bad news is. I was stumped mostly, but yeah, I was broken. The first person I called was my mom, and on answering the phone, she started to say my oriki , w...

                                                              Photo by Eyasu Etsub on Unsplash 'It has pleased God to call your Dad home'. I went cold. My arms and feet. January 22nd, 2021 I was on my way home from work when my brother called. He asked for our family -read government- hospital card number. It was a very odd question because my dad had retired -as a civil worker- and we no longer used the card for consultation. In fact, we had been told on several occasions that they had taken his card 'off the shelf'. Besides my brother had his own card at the same hospital, being a government staff. So the question was very weird on all fronts.  I told him I could not remember the exact number but gave him two or three numbers that came to my head at that time. I asked what the problem was and he s...

December 31st, 2017. The time is 10:15. My Mum, brother and I are waiting for a couple of minutes to pass by before going to the church just beside my house for the annual cross over service into 2018. My Mum’s phone rings. I pick it up and see that it’s my Aunty. ‘Oh she has even called several times. How didn’t we hear?’ I muttered to myself in Yoruba, my native language. I hurriedly make my way to my Mum’s room to give the phone to her. ‘Mummy’, I say softly a couple of times before giving her the phone. ‘Mummy Branco n pe yin ’ Mummy Branco is calling you. Mummy Branco is what we call my Aunty by. Most people know her as my second Mummy, which is very correct.  I watch as my Mum answers the call, definitely still sleepy. Her voice and eyes would clear in seconds when I hear her say ‘Ehn!’ in a high pitch. I definitely knew something was wrong. She hurriedly hangs up and shouts that my Aunty’s husband is in the hospital and on life support and we had to leave immediately. I...

Re-introduction Hi! My name is Tobi Ojenike. Welcome (back) to my blog. In a bid to get this blog back on its feet, I have decided to share my Youth Service year story here. This is the ‘plainest’ I can get and the words used here are exactly how I felt. And I lost most of the pictures but I’ll put up some of them that I could find.  Before Camp I had always wanted to serve in Abuja. I would tell anyone who cared to listen that I wanted to go to Abuja. So, when I was filling out the online form, I chose all the Northern states, that I had visited, except Abuja, hoping I’d get posted there. Eventually, I was posted to Adamawa State. I was numb when I saw the posting, I was neither happy nor sad. I knew that whatever I did at that point mattered less and I would have to go to the mandatory three-week camp. However, my camp was in Bauchi State. So I did not really go to Adamawa till the end of my service year 😉   Service year started from January, 16th to be pre...

I feign ignorance, put up a face you'd believe could never do wrong Do you know me? Barely a score I've been touched and felt in places unknown And yes, I've always wanted more I take substances to elevate my mood, to kill the pain, to relax, to unwind I write depressing poems to fill to the void Only to empty my heart right again I have been to places I should not be caught dead in I tell lies to get out of situations, don't we all? I have played with hearts, toyed with emotions Don't get me wrong, I'm changing I've lived my youth to the full I've had a jolly good time of my life The drugs, the weed, the boys Been there, done that Now do you know me? Nope, not well enough Beneath the surface lies a heart writhing in pain Both emotional and physical Beneath my skin, flowing through my veins runs the devil's blood-black blood I might be fuelled by hate, anger, pain Yet I feel love and happiness on good days Don't judge me by ...

Hi beautiful people. Just taking timeout to appreciate those who have viewed my blog and even commented. How are you doing today? Trust you're good. Be on the look out, another interview is on the way.  In the time being, visit  ayodeleoloyo.blogspot.com You'll be glad you did.