Tomiwa Olasiyan’s Post – A Sequel

The past couple of weeks, the poetic giant in me rose up. To put it more succinctly, I returned back to my first love-POETRY. Poetry is the language of a deep mind. It creates harmony, resonance which reverberates into the inner core of a being, calling those things which be not, as though they were.
I wrote about Ibadan and Ogbomoso. This was borne out of my ‘travelogue’ to the two great cities that shaped me by birth and education. Ibadan remains a very dear city to me.
I had cleverly written it backwards in my last post

that I would sneak into the city. Even though, I didn’t mean this, I ended up sneaking in the day after my birthday around 10pm in the night. I achieved this feat by also getting the whole house worried about my whereabout as there had been an armed robbery attack somewhere on the way. We were saved by a hair’s breath.
After burying my mum in December, I had practically ran off without looking back. I didn’t plan visiting in a long time most especially when deardad also said, “please bury me beside my wife”. This scared me.
So I found myself in the city on good Friday. And when dad said ‘go and sleep in your mother’s room’. I looked at him as if he just grew horns on his head. Nevertheless, I slept in my brother’s room, with a large window overlooking the place where she was buried. Every night was difficult. The light had to be on(the generator worked mostly).
I looked at her favourite chair in the sitting room and avoided it. I didn’t even open her room. The pain was raw and deep. I wasn’t scared of seeing her ghost, in fact, I still wish she would appear. I just didn’t feel good about seeing the graveside or entering her room. I didn’t want to break down.
I summoned courage and looked at the grave yard one evening. I took a good look. Somehow, the entire trip healed a part of my heart but not the ache. I had wondered how my two brothers coped alone in that house with her memories.
I read my brother’s post on and the feelings all came rushing back. I had written ‘the burden of silence’ from a very heavy heart on new year eve.
I looked at her pictures on the wall, remembered our usual discussions and what she would have done if she was around when I visited-reminiscing on that enough was torture. Our last discussion was for me to visit her. I never knew she would not wait for me to come. She didn’t live till xmas.
So I went on my annual pilgrimage to the house just like I used to, but she wasn’t there to welcome me. It was a deep regret. My thoughts accurately chronicles tomiwa olasiyan’s write-up about valuing your parents when you still have them. We would give everything to have her back. May 15th, she would have been 56.

She has won many awards in writing and poetry amongst which are CLO essay competition (1st Prize Southwest) NDIC essay competition(5th Prize in the southwest) and a World Bank Essay Certificate of Participation She has worked with as a content editor and a host of sites as a ghost writer. She has written great inspirational content for fashion brands/blogs. She has been featured on radio and recently added public speaking to her portfolio. You can hire her to write a professional/business profile for you, online content editing, book editing, guest blogging, ghostwriting, content creation or if you need copies of her book, contact her via Olasiyan Olasiyan Follow her business page on Instagram @officialladywriter

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