Sometimes, your strength is small and the legs are feeble. The words are few, the voice is faint and the sound is weak. Your eyes are heavy, the sight is blurry as you fight the tears. Your mind wanders far and wide until you are lost in thought but you’re still awake.
The questions continue to drop in torrents but devoid of answers. The more your mind wanders, the more you wonder what this whole struggle is all about. Many a time, it takes the attentive fellow to know that even the motivator yearns for words that lift the spirit.
If you read me often, you’d figure out my silence is loud. If you indulge me, I plead to borrow a little of your time and space to break my silence. My story is not complete without a mention of the one who opened the womb of our mother who has now joined the saints. He raised me to believe I can bring something out of nothing if I’m so determined. He gave me an identity before I found my own.
If your father read out your names at your christening, you are likely to take it for granted. Some of us lost the privilege even before the day of our christening. The name I answer is an expression of pain and sorrow of a mother in distress. Akinremilekun was the name given to me by my mother who became a widow five days after my arrival.
If you complained you didn’t have enough of fatherly cuddle, you might be mocking a few of us without meaning to be offensive. What if I tell you I don’t even know the man who gave me a chance to be among the living? My father sowed the seed but only waited for me to come and then he travelled on a journey of no return.
You must be wondering what then is this long story all about? Then I will tell you my mother was the only parent I knew until I became conscious they were meant to be two. Akintayo Oluwadare filled the void and became a father of two when he was barely a boy. He was an adolescent when he assumed the role of a father in the life of my sister and I.
Like a warrior whom he was, he fought a battle to clear a path that never existed for us to tread. We walked in the path with pride and dignity to unwrap the identity of a clan that was hitherto unknown in our place of birth. Akin Oluwadare became a household name in our hometown because my brother chose to blaze the trail.
He had carved a niche for himself, I was not going to walk in his shadow and subsume my identity in the fame he had laboured to attract to the name. It took me to add Jnr to my name to define my own identity in clear distinction from a man with a mission to make a statement.
Snr and Jnr distinguished us until he became a multiple chief to clear any identity confusion as I maintained my mister. His wisdom was more than his age and his carriage was bigger than his stature. He was bold and daring, his stance on knotty issues could be mistaken for pride.
He taught me to ask questions even when there seems to be an answer. We had our moments of disagreement as I graduated as a learner from his school of inquisitiveness to become a man of my own. Often I reminded him that I am a product of his independent-mindedness to give him the credit. I am sure he was proud of the man he made of me.
My brother parted ways with the living on Thursday, the 22nd of May. He fought hard to stay alive but now he’s gone never to come back again. It was neither for lack of money nor lack of the best of medical attention. He had enough of social and emotional support from family and friends, yet he passed to the great beyond because his time was up.
I travelled this route not to intrude into your space without permission. Only that if I had shared my thoughts and joy with you before in self-belief, if the present requires I share my pain with you, I will find the relief I seek even if for just a moment.
Many times we worry about the things that money can buy. Yet we forget the little things that are bigger than money. Make your mark when you have the chance because the time is short. If you have your health and time, you are richer than whom you think.
This pain is deep, it pierces my soul, it hurts indeed. If you don’t see me cry it’s not because I’m strong. I always have my moment of solitude when I let out the pains in raw emotions. It remains the only way to take the baton and stay in the race.
If you find meaning in my writing, it is because I had a purpose. Purpose without direction can be a journey without a mission. Akin Oluwadare Snr gave me a direction to find my purpose when I was too young to take decisions. He was the father I know and now he’s gone forever.
As the ink drops from my pen in honour of my hero, I feel a void. Now my pen will rest in deference to the man who gave me direction until his body is interred to give me a closure.
The love we shared remains our succour in sweet remembrance. July 11, 2025 will be the day the world will see the last of his remains as he ends the journey. After then, what will be left of him is a memory of his deeds when he had the chance. Eternal rest grant him Oh Lord, in your mercy I pray 🙏
Fare thee well, Chief Akintayo Joseph Oluwadare, JP (1962 to 2025). You were the father I know.
Goodnight, Sir.
©️Akin Oluwadare Jnr
02 June 2025
