In the embrace of a somber morning, the twins, Mobolaji and Mobolade, marked their second birthday. Today held a bittersweet purpose as I embarked on a journey with my three boys – Feranmi, Mobolaji, and Mobolade to the Isaleoko Cemetery. It was here, amidst the eternal resting place of their mother, my beloved childhood friend, that our hearts converged.
Yesterday, we left behind the hustle of Lagos, and this morning, our steps led us to the cemetery. This wasn't a remembrance day, yet it held profound significance. Darasinmi, my confidante, departed on October 5th, 2021, merely two months after welcoming her twins into the world. Her plea to safeguard her trio of sons resonated ceaselessly in my mind.

The memories etched in time unfurled as I stood before her resting place. Darasinmi as I fondly called her, was my sister, my partner in mischief, my dearest friend. She was my everything. But the tide of newfound faith separated us. The pull of my new beliefs clashed with the bond we had woven over years of shared laughter, dreams, and secrets.
Dara's journey began in adversity, orphaned at a tender age. Tragedy struck her family, snatching her parents and brothers away when she was just seven. Yet, she emerged resilient from the wreckage, her strength a testament to the power of the human spirit. Dara's return to Lagos, alongside her aunt, reignited the flame of our friendship. We navigated life's challenges together, our connection deepening with each passing day.

As I gazed upon her final resting place, a pang of regret gripped me. Religion, the very thing that had drawn me into its embrace, became the barrier between us. Dara was unyielding in her devotion to our bond, refusing to let my spiritual awakening drive a wedge. We argued, wrestled with our differences, and gradually drifted apart.
The silence between us grew until one fateful day when her voice graced my phone. Her news was joyous – she was expecting twins through IVF. Amidst our conversation, her plea for reconciliation tugged at my heart. "Babe, I wish things could return to how they used to be," she whispered, a longing for unity palpable in her words. The past stood before us, but the fractures ran deep.

And then, on October 3rd, 2021, a fateful afternoon. The call arrived, bringing with it the news of her illness. Rushing to her side, I witnessed her pain, and we fought against her fading light together. Days passed, but her strength waned, and she left this world on October 5th, 2021, just as she had entered it – with bravery and grace.
Tears flowed as I stood by her resting place, the weight of grief crashing over me anew. Dara's absence remained an ache, a reminder of what was and what could have been. I hadn't truly moved on, as I believed. Her presence lingered, a cherished memory etched into the fabric of my being.

Dara, today your twins stand at the threshold of their second year. They radiate the strength and resilience you embedded within them. Your laughter, your love for parties, and your spirit live on in them. Though you're not here to witness their growth, I stand steadfast in my promise to be the mother they need. I'll nurture them as you would have, with all the care and devotion that you epitomized.

Rest well, dear friend. Your memory endures, and your legacy lives on.