Pupils from Baptist Day School, Ìsokùn, Ọ̀yọ́ lined up on the road leading to the church. The 500m between Merry Time Hotel and Immanuel Baptist Church was filled with pupils in their uniforms, bidding their teacher farewell. The green checked uniform is etched in my memory and I choose to dwell on it because it supports a conclusion I reached in my head. The conclusion that my mother was no ordinary person. 
I am thankful to the Headmistress of the school whose name I am unable to recall now for the gesture. It is significant andwe will remember it forever. She made the city stand still for my mother. Also, I have been writing about memories and it has been therapeutic. I am also deliberate about curating memories. If I do not share much about my mother, it is not because I am sad or hurt, it is because I do not want to be pitied and I do not want to trigger other family members who might still be hurt.
So we will be here, annually, to share new stories, drop tributes and thank God for everything.