I was 9, and my brother, Kayode, 11, when dad died in a motor accident. The brake of an approaching trailer failed, crossed to the opposite lane, crushed his car and trapped a couple of people beneath it. He was said to have died on the spot.

I still remember like it happened yesterday- the neighbours, family members and friends coming to console mum, her frequent crying at night and late night visits to our bedrooms, sometimes falling asleep at the doorway.

Dad’s brother, Uncle Ahmed, took charge of our school fees throughout secondary school. He now lives in the US with his family where he’s a consultant cardiologist in one of the best hospitals. I still talk with him and his family on the phone ver often.

We had lived in Ikeja when dad was still with us but years after his death, mum couldn’t take the pressure anymore and so we moved to Ibadan, where most of her extended family stayed. It is her hometown.

I miss Eko; the bustling from dusk till dawn, the high-rise buildings since Kayode says they’re not tall enough to be called sky skyscrapers, beautiful architecture, old buildings, the hoods, whites, people from diverse cultures, owanbes on weekends and that ‘Lagos spirit’.

There was little of these in Ibadan so I planned to pick UNILAG for UTME but mum claimed she needed me close, I had to go for the University of Ibadan (UI), just like my brother.

UI is like a fifteen minutes drive from home but seven minutes from her workplace. Mum pays impromptu and unsolicited visits, sometimes bringing cooked food from home for the both of us.
“Mum, I’m no more a baby now”, I had protested
”You better be glad I let you to stay on campus” she answers.

Kayode is a 400L Medical student, myself, a 300L Computer Science student. My MacBook was a gift from Uncle Ahmed to celebrate my admission. I’m used to flaunting it.
“You better use your sense and don’t let them steal it”, mum had warned me when I carelessly carried it around.

Kayode stayed at home for two years, without attempting to write an exam “There’s supposed to be a gap year, where students try out things outside school”, he says anytime the topic is brought up. Mum doesn’t have an ‘iron hand’ like dad so we usually got away with whatever we wanted. I passed my UTME in my third attempt.

I think that’s enough storytelling for one day🤭. Don’t forget to like and leave a comment.

Till I write you again.

Yours,

Fimi