@Iya Olobi Sleeps

@Iya Olobi Sleeps: A Soulful Dirge to My Beloved Grandmother, Madam Alice Aroki Odeboju

There are hearts that love deeply, and there are hearts that live to love. My maternal grandmother — Madam Alice Aroki Odeboju — was one of such rare souls. From my earliest breath, my spirit clung to hers as though heaven wove our destinies in the same thread of affection. Though I had not yet reached the age of reason, I chose her embrace over all others, and she, with my grandfather, received me not as a grandchild but as a son — the first fruit of their lineage, their pride, their joy. Many called me “Omo Iya Olobi” — the son of the kolanut trader — and indeed, it was a name I bore with honor, for that kolanut-scented matriarch traded not just in goods, but in goodness.

She was my altar of prayer, my life’s counsellor, my chief encourager. Her words dripped with hope, her voice soaked in faith. She had a way of planting sunshine in the soil of my soul, watering my dreams with affirmation, and pruning my fears with laughter. Her spirit was light and pure — bearing no malice, holding no grudge. Her heart was an open door, and her pot an open table. Many who tasted her food tasted love itself.

She was a chef of compassion, a cook of contentment, and a connoisseur of character. With gentle firmness, she steamed and stewed me in the impeccable ‘Omoluabi’ ethos — humility, integrity, politeness, responsibility, compassion, truthfulness, generosity, and the art of being human in the most beautiful way.

Grandma was my first teacher in neatness and order, my mentor in independence, my model in diligence. She loathed laziness and despised idleness. Her wit was sharp; her diplomacy, divine. Even as a trader, she possessed the tact of a stateswoman and the tenderness of a saint. At night, she became my storyteller, ushering me into worlds where tortoises talked and wisdom danced in riddles. She was an encyclopedia of 'oríkì' — family panegyrics that stirred the sleeping  giant in me. How she would chant my ancestral praise, opening my young heart to the rhythm of identity and belonging.

From her kolanut trade, she taught me enterprise. From her laughter, I learned resilience. From her life, I learned the secret of living fully — to give, to smile, to serve, and to love with open hands. She carried me everywhere — not as a burden, but as a bond. She sought my opinion as a child and respected it as though I were grown. Through her, I learned to think beyond my age and act beyond my fears. She laid and built the psychological, emotional and intellectual framework of the man i grew up to become.

Now, heaven has gained a jewel. The company of my benevolent guardian angels has grown richer. My cheerleader has joined the celestial choir. And though her body rests beneath the earth, her voice still sings within me — “Akanbi, ma foya,  eni nlà ni e.” (Fear not, Akanbi, you are destined for greatness).

She was the family’s rallying point — a confidant, a comforter, and a counselor to many. Her door was open, her smile contagious, her faith unwavering. Ninety-eight beautiful years she walked this earth — graceful, vibrant, unwavering — setting a record of longevity and vitality.

We are grateful, Grandma. 

Grateful that your exit was peaceful. Grateful that your farewell was fitting and befitting within 24 hours. 

Grateful that your memory will never fade. 

You have finished your race, and your crown shines brighter than kolanut shells in the morning sun.

Sleep well, Iya Funmilayo.

Sleep well, Aroki omo Ojugbele aya Odeboju, Ijeni agbe, omo agbegba!

Omo olugbon saakin, omo oloko yi ko biri!

Omo oju r’abesa, eke o s’ojo!

Omo t"omo iki egan, t"omo iki ooto, t'omo bi atannije se n nki won!

Rest in power, rest in peace, rest in love — my beloved grandmother, my guardian, my motivator, my gold.

Sun un re, Mama — until we meet again!

From your beloved son and first grandchild - Akanbi Olufemi Abiola.