By Toyin Falola
I have come to be a tail
Without weapons but watching, guarding, and guiding
These, who are “my girls”
Both the old, the not-too-old, and the children
I have looked closely so they do not derail.
My temple waves more for their span
The stretching of their curiosity as they are gaining
Rejecting the reiteration of “my girls”
For they have grown wings, and I need not warn
They are big minds on their trails.
As I slow, Bisola and Sisto’s blooms are fast still
In every transformation, leaves of wisdom unfold
I gape at their smiles and will
Making their paths, stories, and bold
My arms, once their fortress, now let go.
Sade and Funmi sing “Grandpa” in innocence, pure
Curious and surfing for something new
While the elder ones lead, strong and sure,
Walking paths once foreign, now pursued
I watch, half-remembering their early days.
As I age, they grow through time’s tender sweep
But the sweep reverberates love that roots so deep
They are the past that transcends my staff through tomorrow
Legacies woven with both joy and sorrow
They are testimonies that glow.
To Bisola, keep riding through life
Keep being the light on people’s path
Keep the fire burning, fuelled by desire
For it is enough to guide your way
The desires that keep you alive.
To Sisto, my burst of joy
Through whose shine, women should learn
For your father loves thou deep
And with that, be the envoy
Living life, leading life.
To Sade and Funmi
The path is cleared; you may walk it or create your own
But do not lose your power to the condescending
Who sees no future for women
For you can achieve so much more.
Life is a rolling stone, dropping nodes of experience that make humans and prepare them for the unknown. But life has been coming down, crushing on women for many years in the entire history of the world, especially in Africa. When men take a step, it is often the case that women need to take two steps: battling societal emancipation and reversing expectations before reaching for those desires that set things out of the ordinary.
The dropping nodes of experience from life’s moving stone have exposed my mind to the unjust and uninformed habits of women’s limitation, discrimination, and marginalization. This realization inspired me to teach my children to make a difference and to leap beyond the societal fences of imagination. I have encouraged them and helped them to reach their goals and understand the efforts they must put in to merit their desires. I have taught them to follow in the footsteps of excellence while not losing themselves, whether by surpassing or standing shoulder-to-shoulder with the social standards of success. When failure comes, I told them to be brave, for fortune favors the bold.
I remember the early educational days of Bisola and Sisto, when they took steps, failed at things, made efforts, and got better. I recall their different levels of social immersion and interactions, even amid cultural complexities and diversities. I remember them excelling in their endeavor and building steps toward their aspirations.
As a Pan-Africanist, I have lived my life as a champion of the African cause without regrets or compromise. While my paths may differ from my children’s, I confess I have been conscious of the risk of losing them to the cultural awareness and identity that follow being Africans. Bisola, Sisto, Sade, and Funmi, living in the United States and Mexico, pose questions of cultural unconsciousness and the sacrifice of African ideals and identity for foreign antecedents.
I have witnessed my children’s adaptability to similar and conflicting cultures, and I have seen them triumph with admirable and reasonable responses. An additional accomplishment for me, fortunately, is the respect and appreciation they have shown for African identities. Grandma also plays a vital role in guiding the grandchildren through many questions about Africa and Nigeria, teaching them about their origins and the rich cultural tapestry of their heritage.
These are the little things we could do as we age–not just to watch them grow, but to help them grow. Not just to shape them into women of good character and reference but to allow them to pursue their desires and see beyond limitations. Now, I am filled with joy seeing the women “my girls” have become. I am proud of their accomplishments and convictions. I am glad they are natural leaders for their chosen paths, defying social limitations and building their strengths with reason and clarity.
Besides the many accolades and international commendations I have received, the real evidence of a purposeful aging process lies in the greatness of these remarkable women in my life. As they walk their paths with confidence and grace, I am fulfilled knowing that what they embody is not just their personal triumph but a testament to the “Toyin Falola” legacy that has been ingrained in them.
I also feel truly blessed to be holding Sade and Funmi’s hands along these paths, guiding them through developmental ideologies that set them apart in outstanding ways. I relive the gentle touches of their small hands and their inquisitive, prying eyes holding a load of questions.
Although we age to let them grow, our years would be wasted if we do not help our women grow. The cracking of our skin would only reflect the transcendence of life, not the meaningful ways we could have impacted their lives. Our age shall be in a rage if we do not open their horizons, clear their paths, and hold them through the rough.
