My Brother. My Father. My Mentor.
Three Years On
But Never Gone.
Today makes three years since the day you left this world.
Three years since I lost not just a brother…
But a father, a mentor, a guide.
The one who carried us on his shoulders when the weight of life felt unbearable.
You were our mother’s first fruit, her pride, her strength, and when our father passed, you became ours too.
You gave up comfort, convenience, even personal dreams…
Just to hold the family together.
You were the bonding glue.
The unshakable anchor.
And when we were scattered across continents,
You stayed.
You always returned.
You always said;
“Who do I leave my mother for?”
That question… it echoed with love.
It echoed with loyalty.
It echoed with the kind of selflessness only angels carry.
So when you left us , so suddenly, so silently
My heart cried back:
“Who have you left her for now?”
You were larger than life.
You escaped what others never could.
Car crashes. Crises. Life’s challenges.
You were the man with nine lives, and a thousand blessings.
So how could something as ordinary as a blood clot take someone so extraordinary?
I broke that day.
Seeing you. Silent. Still.
In the mortuary where your voice no longer rang out with wisdom, laughter, or prayer.
But I am grateful.
That we honoured you.
That your homegoing matched your stature.
That I can still say with every breath:
I love you. I miss you. I will never stop loving you.
You live forever in my heart.
Sleep well, Baba Marto.
Rest easy, my first protector.
My brother. My father. My mentor.
Until we meet again
And part no more.
With all my love,
Your baby sister,
Titilola.
