Sleep well Yewande Odukoya.

It's exactly one year today that you left this world Yewande Odukoya. I've tried recollecting how we actually met each other but honestly, I still can't. Yewande, you deserve more than a blogpost from me. Or maybe I should have penned this a long time ago but I wasn't brave enough to write about our short time together. Besides, in the past one year, I just couldn't accept your death. But one year after and you're still not back (from the journey i thought in my head), I've had to accept the sad realization that you've indeed left us.

Yewande, you were my cousin, sister and best friend while growing up. Your house was like my living room cos I was always there right after my lessons in the afternoon. Your dad, God bless his soul was one of the nicest men that ever walked this earth. Do you remember how daddy would drive all of us in his Cream colored Peugeot Station Wagon to Archbishop Vining Memorial Church every Sunday? Do you remember how you were 'allergic to the smell of fuel' and daddy (Uncle Lanre) had a bottle of lime (osan wewe) in his brown bag for you every time? Oh dear! That brown bag!! Filled with newspapers (The Guardian to start with), lime etc. Everything was in that brown bag. Lol

Yewande, you were very pretty, very blunt (to a fault maybe), very generous and could cry for days!!! Jeeeez! The myth then was that you were christened 'Aina' cos of your unending cries. Your dad always complained about you talking too much and wanted you to 'be like Nike' (whatever he meant by that 😂😄) but I loved you for that hyper you. It was either your way or no way Yewande - that was the you I knew while growing up. You fought for me Yewande and I'm still thankful for that (I'm sure you understand what I really mean by this).

Your mum's eba and stew for dinner was the ish back then. Guess what? I actually boil my meat/chicken with garlic now cos I picked that from your mum's cooking 😃. I'm still grateful.

I do remember how we'd sit on the toilet seat together (at the same time)and pee/poop cos we just wanted to be together at all cost (gross, I know 😤😃). You unknowingly boosted my little self esteem (I had none to be candid but you helped in your own little way).

I do remember the last time I saw you (at your dad's funeral). You had changed but I wasn't sore or bitter, I just accepted you for that. Things didn't go well with us for sure but I was hoping I'd come to London and show up at your doorstep and probably say "Madam, don't you think it's high time we sorted things out?

When I heard you were in a coma, I kept praying for you because I knew how strong you were and not for once did I ever think of death. I always thought you'd pull through, I desperately wanted you to make it, I rooted for you all the way. But God had other plans.

Yewande, you alone knew the pains you endured during your health challenges, I, can only imagine. I do hope you're in a better place now. What you heard or what I heard don't matter right now - I'd trade all the bullcrap to have you back right now.

Your lil' boy Elijah clocked 2 last week and we attended his little bash. I'd planned to be strong but I ended up breaking down. I couldn't hold back the tears despite the fact that I'd cried before leaving the house. Your presence was deeply missed Yewande. Your mum misses you a whole lot but she's trying to stay strong. I promised her I'd check on her as frequently as possible. Elijah would never know how amazing his mum was. He looks so much like you (the lips and the eyes) I felt you almost spat him out. He's such a cute lad.

Rest well lil cousin. I love you a whole lot. Do give Uncle Lanre my love. Tell him thanks and that I still miss him.

PS: Yewande, I had to use lots of smileys to mask the tears.