ÌBÀDÀN

Ibadan pikin, that’s where my story began.

Grandparents’ house, where I learnt how to grin.

Dem old but dem strong, dem no dey play.

Dem teach me life in their own way.

My childhood had two sides of one coin.

Warmth in their laps, distance in the join.

They gave me wisdom I’ll never forget.

They gave me memories I’ll always get.

I’m grateful for every lesson they sowed.

Even on the days I felt out of mode.

Sometimes I need help and dem no sabi.

Sometimes I talk and dem go just look at me.

The gap between us felt as wide as the Atlantic.

So I learned to find my footing without their magic.

I figured out things without a guide.

I became my own best friend inside.

I kept to myself, I made my own fun.

I learned that alone doesn’t mean you’re undone.

The quiet taught me how to hear.

The silence taught me I was here.

Visiting parents dey feel like stranger’s place.

I dey long to go back to Grandma’s face.

But going back too, something dey miss.

Like I dey search for something I no fit kiss.

I was in between, not fully here or there.

Longing for one while missing the other air.

It felt like wearing two different shoes.

Both fit wrong, but both were what I’d choose.

I searched for home in both directions.

And found pieces in both reflections.

Despite everything, dem love me die.

Even aunts and cousins dey ask "why?"

"Why dem like this pikin so?"

"Why dem give am everything we know?"

That love was loud, even when things were tough.

That love was proof that I was enough.

I may have grown up between two worlds.

But I grew up held, and that’s what matters most.

I carry Ibadan, Abeokuta, and them in me.

And that is where I’m finally free.

About the poet:

Ololade Obadina is a poet and writer exploring identity, resilience, personal growth, and the extraordinary moments tucked inside everyday life.