Endless Love October 15, 1995

ally for the fact that she plays rough as boys do. Aunty Ore or Mummy Olanshile is a tall brown-skinned woman who hails from a town in Akure, Ondo. Some years back, my mother had helped her to come live in Lagos. She had helped secure her apartment and market stall too. The two women were, indeed, the best of friends in every way.

Ever since those scenes forward, Ive always looked back on my mothers words: a good life mixed with the greatest fear of God, and the question chipped from Psalm11vs 3- when things fall apart, what can the righteous do? Both have helped me build almost everything; friendship, a proper attitude towards life, and that resilience that made me stand out educationally and publically.

Both my parents hail from Abeokuta. Meanwhile, unlike an indignant mother who was ever quick to react whenever ugly situations loom, my father was a gentle dove with enough continent. Both were God-fearing fellows and each was conferred with a church title. They both command respect among the church elders and congregations. While he was elected as the church secretary, she, on the other hand, was dutifully the vice president for the churchs Good Women Congress.

My father was self-employed. A dexterous worker who does furniture works; An artisan purely of his class! He had lots and lots of compilations of his works in an album which he boastfully show a client of his. And there is a saying of his, one he was so fond of- Pẹlu Iṣeduro – in English, it simply translate- With Insurance. This saying, I guess, will forever be in every one of his associates minds, both at home and abroad.

I took after my fathers physique but I am everything else of my mother. Tade looks exactly everything like our father but she shared our mothers physique; just an average height. We both shared our parents. Both women loved it when either man walk beside them. Gayly, they felt secure in the presence of both hefty rugged bodyguards.

Tade is brilliant and a nice-to-be-with type of person. Owing to her irresistible mouth-watery delicacy, she had been the familys irreplaceable cook ever since our mother relinquish the role. She was an undergraduate at Lagos State University. Right after her schooling hours, she was used to helping our mother in her provisional stores, one not too far from home. I could remember Tades secondary school days. She had graduated a couple of years back from the same school as me. I do reminiscent of how she had won herself the schools most prolific and favorite best accounting student, and of how she had also won the school major awards and prizes in inter-school accounting competitions. My sister and I are the best of every sibling. She is my confidante too after Olatunji Micheal who is my overall best friend. I trust her so much with secret matters.

Olatunji Michael, my best of friends, or O.M as I fondly call him is an age mate, ex-classmate, and schoolmate. A friend that has become a brother over time. We both grew up together in the same community, and also attended the same school, Auntie Yemi School and its Academy. It was ascertained that we were giving birth on the same day but at different times; I was born a few minutes after him. People do refer to us as twins of the day or twins from different mothers. Perhaps, it was because of the factor which affects and surrounds our birth. Moreso, perhaps the way we both do things in common. Although, he doesn like playing football as I do but when its time for a video game my twin is one of the best. There arises an occasion he contended with Deji, the mountain goat, in a video game challenge of which the latter lost woefully.

Deji Popoola was also a boy of our age and ex-school and classmate but I strongly detest him. Almost everyone doesn like him. He was a boastful and pompous type; someone I wouldn tolerate, not even his dire pomposity. We never agree on anything. We were foes in all school activities. As brilliant as he was, he never for once beat me to post both in school and class nominations. I was, fortunately enough, voted the class captain and school sports prefect over him. This is also saddening a loss to bear that he was never called upon to represent the school in any competitions which ensue due to his mothers presumptuous attitude, and amiss behavior. Whenever he got scolded, she would shield and fight in his stead against any teacher or anyone as may be the case. Her malignant behavior and a rude sense of approach affected him cynically.

In all ways, I do thank God for my parents in my early years, most especially my mother who took extra time and that motherly responsibility to train her wards in the right and proper path possible. She is indeed an epithet of life, grace, and positiveness.

But hitherto, I had never in any way thought of hurting or exposing anyone in my household to danger, not until that ill-fated day, July 15, 2017, for I am forever deeply sorry for. And in fact, if anyone had made mention of or joked about me hurting the family I loved so dearly and have grown fond of, I probably would have laughed it out loud into the wide thin air. Sometimes, I ask myself if I may get down-to-earth forgiveness for such a folly blinded by love. But could it be love, folly, or both? If its love then, love is truly blind and foolish, and stupid, and… Nonetheless, should I have folly allowed the love for my first ever endless love to suck and sour deep?

– Indeed, no one knows tomorrow, not even tomorrow could tell what it is sure to hold. So, how possibly then could anyone get his or herself prepared for whats coming?