Hard to Say Goodbye, Ikeoye Oyetoro - Dupe Fehintola

By Seyifunmi Odunuga 

I met Mummy Oyetoro at a very young age when she relocated from Iseyin to Saki. 

She sat closely beside me in church with her four children, and Ikeoye was the eldest. The following Sunday, we sat in the same place, which was my usual seat, and that was how our bond began.

The baby of the family, Ope, would always look forward to my biscuits and sweets. She would also cry and insist that we stop singing any song that had her name, “Ope,” in it.

 Those little moments remain precious memories.

When I learnt that Mummy Oyetoro had passed away many years ago, I knew the mantle had fallen on Ikeoye. Ike, as I fondly called her, was a beautiful soul, and she loved me so much.

I remember a particular birthday when she called me, very upset that I had not celebrated her since morning. She reminded me that whenever it was my birthday, she would write me an epistle. I asked her to calm down and assured her that the day was still young and that I would do the needful. Immediately she dropped the phone, I quickly composed my own epistle for her. That memory brings a smile to my face today, even through the pain.

Ikeoye, it is so hard to say goodbye to you at this prime of your life. 

I felt deeply saddened when I saw your uncle, Afeez Oyetoro, this evening, and your aunt, your mother's look-alike, whom I had not seen for many years.

You were a wonderful sister, a beautiful soul, and someone whose love and presence will remain in my heart.

Adieu, my dear Ikeoye.

Rest peacefully in the bosom of the Lord. You will be deeply missed and fondly remembered.