HER MOTHER'S DAUGHTER

It was a cold, quiet Thursday night around 4 a.m. The kind of night when the world feels still, and memories sneak up on you. I couldn’t stop thinking about her. My grandmother. Everyone called her Iya Wasola, a name that echoed love and respect in our family and among her friends. But to me, she was simply Mama❤ my safe place, my gentle giant.

And she? She never called me by name. I was always “Omo Iya e” (her mother’s daughter)

It was her way of reminding me of where I came from… of the strength and tenderness passed down through generations.

Now, back to that chapter of my life.

It was late July last year when NYSC suddenly posted me to Kano for my national youth service. The news came without warning I was among the late batch. Everything felt rushed, and my mind was scattered. I quickly decided to travel from Ondo Town to Akure,so my journey to Kano would be easier from there.

I’ll never forget that moment the way time paused when I got to her house.