Just as Baba Oluwo predicted the day before as he pushed his index and middle fingers into the sand on his ọpọ́n Ifá, the skies are clear. Oyá has accepted his request to hold back her thunderstorms. I stop at the threshold of my father’s compound and squint at the blazing sun, wondering if it was just as hot on the outskirts of our village. I shield my eyes with my right hand and cast my mind back to the man who held my hand only a fortnight ago. I close my eyes and remember how his hand ran down my bareback and the firm grip that pulled down my
Your writing prowess is amazinggg, it’s like I’m watching a movie because my imagination is running in HD4 😁😁
Hauwa.....you are gifted. I know it's a gross understatement,but I'm short of words. So gifted.
Thank youuu
Seems so short 🥺
Psyched for the next update...
How you transport me from where I lay reading this into a whole new realm is amazing ❤️❤️ kudos 🎉
Words in words interwoven. Indeed we have seen again another " bayo adebowale" you can't imagine how much Bayo is so good at description.
Plantain don set, na firewood remain....I see bole loading.
Hauwa😭❤️
These are amazing , I can’t get enough
Hauwa, your writing is everything.
Niceeee
Ha Hauwa😘
🤣🤣
My God..
Hauwa wow
👍👍👍
I saw you write the macaroni, bae u and lalude story, I love the way you write, well done, give us longer stories
wow!