My Dearest Mother, The woman with the largest heart, the gentliest smile, and a soul that carried warmth wherever it went. In 2003, God, in His perfect wisdom, caused our paths to cross. I was just a little boy who had come with someone to clear the weeds around your house. As I worked, I noticed you looking at me, long, quietly, intentionally. Then you walked over, leaned close, and softly whispered into my ears, “Will you follow me to Lagos?” Little did I know that those five words would change the course of my life forever. That moment gave birth to the Seun everyone now fondly calls “Omo Mummy.” You didn’t just take me in, you chose me. You raised me with a love that knew no boundaries. You taught me, corrected me, prayed for me, believed in me long before I learned to believe in myself. You became my loudest cheerleader, my refuge, my pillar of strength, my safe place. Never for a single day did you make me feel like I wasn’t your own. Your love erased every line that could have separated us. I still remember 2008, when you retired to Ijeda and began searching for a secondary school for me. Someone suggested the public school nearby. You smiled and simply asked, “Where is the best secondary school around here?” That was who you were. You never settled for less when it came to me. You always wanted the very best for your son. Today, my heart bleeds. My soul is exhausted from carrying a pain words cannot fully describe. I replay our last conversation over and over again. The night before you left this world, I said, as I always did, “Odaaro, Mummy.” And with your familiar warmth, you replied, “Àá jíire o.” How I wish I had known that those would be the last words we would ever exchange. How I wish I could hear your voice just one more time. How I wish I could call you “Mummy” and hear you answer. Iya mi owón… You lived a life that mattered. A life of purpose. A life of sacrifice. A life completely poured out in service to God and to humanity. You were the kind of woman whose footprints cannot be erased by time, because they are forever imprinted on the hearts of those privileged enough to know you. The world may count your years, but we will forever count your impact. No amount of tears can summon you back. No amount of longing can rewrite God’s timing. So we hold on to the comforting truth that heaven has gained a saint, and you have finally found your eternal rest. But that truth does not stop the ache. It does not silence the emptiness. It does not fill the space your absence has left. I miss you more than words will ever be able to say. Oluwafolaranmi misses you too. And so, with a heart heavier than it has ever been, I say these words one final time… Odaaro, Mummy. Until we meet again, where goodbyes no longer exist, and love is never interrupted by death.

Oluwaseun Olasupo

13 July 2026 · 18:12 GMT