His father died on 26 August 1995. King Oyo died on 27 August 2026. Thirty-one years and one day. People are calling it coincidence or something bigger. I don’t know what to call it. I just know his mother lived through both of those days.
She buried her husband and then watched them put a crown on a three-year-old who was still playing. Tonight she has buried that same child, now a man of 34, almost on the same calendar page.
They say he left a Prince. Another small boy whose name we do not know yet. I keep wondering how the Queen looks at the calendar and at that child at the same time.
The official pages will tell us the rest when the family is ready. Tonight I am just sitting with how the years lined up and how much one woman has had to carry between those two Augusts.
I've learned that in life you don't have to regret anything. Tell yourself that you didn't know, you've learned, you've grown and then forgive yourself. There's no point in regretting things that will never go back to normal. Move on.
Unpopular opinion: Your child's name isn't the place to be creative. They'll have to explain, spell, and pronounce it for the rest of their life. Please be more intentional.