I beats any feeling though we are too lax to observe,how as time passes by we would only want to term the closest of ours neighbours,…No! brothers whose struggles we share in and victories we thrive to continue, what do we enjoy only by ourselves, when when only think about what is “right for and before us”, neglecting that the shoes we put on and the sand which we tread, were skins and bushes some trail-blazers cleaned and prepared for and this we inherit.In conclusion, exactly in what generation could we actually find home?
I school in a place known for ancient African rites and tradition,and the origin of the modern yoruba race, ILE-IFE, the tales of legendary wars and conquests are hid ,and lost on the hills within the premises of what used to be called the warriors lair and along side it evil forests. but still, it’s vastness, beautiful topography and marvelous variations baffles me the more. Just eight hundred years ago,i can’t really picture the foot paths along the shrubs,caves (now denuded) and i hope i could be the one to record the events which took place but are now in oblivion. Though things maybe different now, but we aren’t exactly treading the paths our ancestors (theirs actually) did even as i imagine what it felt like when Oranmiyan challenged the former people of Modakeke chanting war songs and incantations upon the hill, the historic feats of Timi Agbale and the influence of the personality of princess Moremi all happening as i journey through time. Ah! it would have been memorable ,if everyone treasure the moments that come as we live each small hour to its fill because every moment in a second is timelessly bound and what decisions are made as a result in that moment, are potentially powerful enough to change the course of time.