Modurodoluwa

I had forgotten how to cry. And yet the tears spilt from my eyes, flowed freely even though there was company here. Death is no stranger to me. I have loved and I’ve lost many times over and yet, I do not cry. But I cried when I heard you were gone. I cried, Dolu.

I cried for all the times I should have been in touch and I seemed too busy. I cried because I remembered you just this past week and didn’t call or ping or DM. I cried because, as the testimony all around is, you checked on your friends over and over again and yet, you were easily taken for granted. I cried because you said you were now fine when you apparently were not. I cried because I realize now that what this meant was that you just still cared about us more than the pain you didn’t want to burden us with. I cried because I realize how much of a selfish person I am. That I am only just coming round to writing this is proof.

I cried for you, Dolu.

I already miss you. I can’t even remember the last time I got to see you. I remember December 30th, when we took the only pictures I have of us together. And even now, it’s rather fuzzy whether or not I saw you after that. That’s how bad a friend I have been. I heard and I dug up my old blackberry to read through our last chat (I never end our convos), only to find and remember that I had accidentally ended our chat mid-convo that day two months ago and so only had the last words we wrote each other. That hurt bad. Real bad. Two whole months without speaking to you and all I have to reminisce on are a few sentences and a photograph.

But that isn’t all, is it? I remember your faith. I remember your smile and how despite everything you were going through you never let your smile wane. I remember how much you kept asking how I was doing even when you were the one in pain. I remember that the last convo we had was how you would help me look out for info about getting a new apartment. I remember you dancing crazy at D3ola’s house last year. I remember meeting you for the first time at TNC1 and that the last time I clearly remember seeing you was TNC5. I remember wondering why you seemed upset with me the last time we chatted. I remember you insisting I hadn’t done any wrong and that you were fine. I remember telling you I loved you.

For you, I asked why. You’re the only one for whom I’ve ever asked why and I pray I never come to such a dark place again, where I ask the one who owns all life why He would take what he freely gave us and what we all must undoubtedly relinquish back some day. But I asked why and I’d still like to know clearly why you had to go and amidst so much pain too.

At least, now I know you are at peace. And there’s no more pain. I’m writing this and surprisingly there are no more tears. I’m just glad you’re free now. It hurts that you’re gone and that I didn’t get to say goodbye and I wasn’t there for you leading up to your journey home… but I’m glad your smile now is undoubtedly genuine, through and through. It’s a struggle but I’m smiling with you, Dolu.

Thank you for being my friend. Thank you for being the extra amazing and inspiring person that you are. I celebrate you.

I love you, Dolu and I miss you. Rest well.

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Modurodoluwa Ige. An angel.

For The Love of A Country

I believe very strongly in this. Let’s do this.

Learning to breathe

Our first Nehemiah Project Prayermob meet-up is Saturday this week and I am excited to say the least. When I finally worked up the courage to tell y’all about it, I honestly didn’t think that it would “blow”. I just wanted to make sure I obeyed that one thing He was calling me to do. Not all of us will be missionaries in the North, Uganda or even the Amazon jungle but all of us are called to radical living right where we are. So, right now for me, “radical” looks like praying for my country on the 15th of every month and getting as many people as I can in on it. I can’t tell you that about a million people followed us on Twitter or that NPPM has 2 million likes on Facebook. I’m not even here to talk about stats because they aren’t impressive by any…

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