The Latest Academic Doctor in Town.

 

God has done it again!

Yesterday morning,

my beautiful daughter

successfully defended her

dissertation.

She has now officially become

a member of the prestigious

club of PhD holders.

To God be the glory!

 

Tribute to an Epitome of Motherhood.

Today, it’s precisely 40 years since she departed this sinful world. A very strict, no-nonsense woman and generous to a fault, Sarah Segilola Olawole was the epitome of motherhood. It was from her that I first heard the term, “labor of love”, when a parent has to steer an erring child onto the right path even if it involves some “spankings” or “back-hand” slaps (like someone playing table-tennis). I was about 19 years old when I told her (cheek-in-tongue) that if we were to be in America, her tough style of raising kids would have got her into jail. Initially, she screwed up her face, gave me a “how dare you” stare then, she shook her head slowly and said “Let me tell you something…it would be better for me to be in jail than to let YOU go to jail…” My dearest mother, how I wish you could physically be around today to behold all the good things of life that you painstakingly envisaged, stressed over and labored so much for us (your kids) to attain. Yes, it’s been 40 years since your untimely demise. But the pain subsists…because you did not enjoy the fruits of your labor…and this hurts deeply. May you continue to rest peacefully in the bosom of the Lord.

The Inevitability of Disappointment.

“Disappointment is inevitable. But to become discouraged, there's a choice I make. God would never discourage me. He would always point me to himself to trust him. Therefore, my discouragement is from Satan. As you go through the emotions that we have, hostility is not from God, bitterness, unforgiveness, all of these are attacks from Satan.” - Charles Stanley.

 

 

Thinking of You.

This is no cliché…and neither is it a platitude. After 27 years of marriage, you've become my sun, my moon, my guiding star, my kind of wonderful.



I know there is only one like you because there is no way God could have made any other woman like you. You're like the first morning dew on my brand new day. In you I've found so many things…among which is a love so new that only you could bring.

(Adapted from "You're The First, The Last, My Everything" by Barry White).



 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I Miss My Girl.

My father used to say; “To a parent, a child will always be a child, no matter how much the child has grown.”



Back then, when Ifeoluwa (above) was in  Queens' College, a high school with boarding facility, I was stressing on how she would cope with all those strict  school prefects and “senior” students because of her very young age and fragile frame.

As a college undergraduate (below) my fear was how she would “survive” in the midst of the much older, “street-wise” students on campus.



Now the young lady is all grown and matured with established personal principles…

Shouldn’t a parent calm down and relax? Not me!

Since she relocated to Washington DC last weekend (see the following pictures) to start a new life as a graduate student, I can’t help feeling “somehow” because…I miss my girl…and a lot more than I did during her past academic pursuits.



From left (above) Titilola (my wonderful wife) Me and my girl, Ifeoluwa.



From right (above) Ifeoluwa, Ebunoluwa (a.ka. last born) and Titilola (the proud mom).

 

 

 

26th Wedding Anniversary Toast.

The above picture was taken in 1987.

I remember that very interesting day in 1983 when I met Titilola at a colleague’s birthday party.

Most of the female guests were college students and she was among them. Unlike others who dressed flamboyantly to impress, her attire was, to say the least, drab. But her beauty was glaring with an elegant poise, panache and of course, a no-nonsense attitude.

Shortly after I started “campaigning” to her, she obliged my request for a dance. After dancing to two records, the music of Marvin Gaye, “Sexual Healing” came on. And, impulsively, I reached out my hands. But to my surprise, she stepped back, stared at me coldly and gently pulled me aside.

“Excuse me!” she whispered. “Did you just try to bring me into your arms…?”

 “Hey…” I tried to explain. “I just wanted to dance…”

“Really…with me in your arms…?” she now pointed in the direction of the dance floor. “Do you think I’m one of those ladies over there who have been flirting with you all night?”

I was about asking what she was talking about but she turned right back toward her seat. Grabbing my chair, I went over to seat beside her. She stared at me like “I thought I just put you in your place?” 

With Titilola (unlike most women I had dated before her) it was just not enough to profess love. It had to be proved and “beyond every reasonable doubt”. Never hesitating to blow her own trumpet, she made it very clear that she had every moral reason to make men wait until she was able to figure out “Mr. Right”. For instance, it took almost forever before I was allowed a kiss. An ordinary peck on the cheek took about a year!  

I do wonder sometimes how many young women of these days are made this way.

In retrospect, wooing a lady in those days was all painstakingly “analogue” unlike these days when Facebook alone facilitates a “digitalized” relationship on a platter of gold.  

And so…to you, Titilola, iyawo mi atata: Happy 26^th wedding anniversary!!!