Ibadan mornings have a way of rising slowly. It was steady and not rushed or aggressive like Lagos.
That was how Tammy’s life started. Steady.
Tamilore Adesina. She was the first daughter, first responsibility and first sacrifice.
They were living in Bodija then. Not the new flashy side. The old part with narrow roads and compound houses where neighbors knew your business before you even stepped outside.
She was fifteen when everything changed.
Fifteen.
Her parents had travelled to the village for a burial. They were to be gone for just two days.
“We’ll be back before you blink,” her mum had said that morning, tying her gele in front of the mirror while Tammy held her baby brother on her waist.
But they never came back. They had an accident on their way to the village.
People filled their compound that evening like ants. Crying, wailing, praying, whispering.
Tammy did not cry at first. She just sat there confused.
Temitope was fourteen. Shindara was eleven. Their little brother, Tolu, was barely three.
Everybody kept saying, “E pele, first daughter. You have to be strong for your younger ones.”
Strong.
She didn’t even know what that meant.
But from that day, she became it.
As the tears passed, she learned how to negotiate school fees with principals. Learned how to cook in bulk so food would stretch.
Learned how to smile in church even when NEPA had cut their light for two weeks.
She sold zobo in SS2. Baked chin-chin in SS3.
By the time she entered University of Ibadan, she was already tired but she didn’t have the luxury of breaking down.
Her siblings were watching her.
And she refused to let them see her fear.
Now she was thirty-two. She was still beautiful, very loud. Still the happiest person in any room.
But that morning in Ibadan, her third-born sister’s wedding morning. She sat quietly on the edge of the bed in her room in the family house.
The house was full of noise. Makeup artists were moving in and out. Relatives shouting downstairs. Caterers arguing over coolers.
But Tammy just sat there in her wrapper and singlet, staring at her phone.
Shindara, the bride was twenty-five years old.
Temitope who is twenty-nine got married last year.
Valerie, her best friend got married seven months ago and was currently six weeks pregnant.
She smiled faintly.
Her godchild was cooking. He was in the incubator.
Yes!! She wants Valerie to give her a baby boy.
God had done well for everybody.
She just didn’t know when it would be her turn.
A knock came at the door and shook her out of her thoughts.
“Aunty Taaaammmmyyy!” one of the small cousins screamed before barging in.
“They say it is time for you to comman do your makeup!”
She forced a smile.
“Bolu, tell them that I’m coming.”
When the girl left, Tammy leaned back on the bed and exhaled slowly.
“God,” she whispered quietly in Yoruba, “ I still trust you oo. I trust you”
Earlier that year during Shindara’s introduction ceremony, her father’s sisters had almost finished her.
She remembered it clearly.
They were under the canopy in the village, sipping malt and fanning themselves dramatically.
Aunty Abike leaned forward first.
“Tamilore, so your junior sister is marrying before you?”
She smiled politely. “Yes ma.”
Aunty Kehinde adjusted her gele.
“First daughter like you. Thirty-something. You are doing career woman upandan. Hope you are not too choosy?”
The table went quiet. These women were educated but they chose to act like illiterates.
Tammy took a sip of her drink calmly. Then she looked at them and smiled sweetly.
“Aunty, even mango ripens at different times. The one that ripens too early sometimes falls and spoils.”
There was dead silence.
One of her cousins choked on his malt.
Aunty Abike cleared her throat. “Hmm.”
Tammy leaned closer.
“And don’t worry. When my own comes, you people will dance tire.”
She stood up and walked away before they could reply.
But that night she cried into her pillow. Because words are easy but loneliness is not.
After their parents died, she had moved to Lagos for greener pastures.
Ibadan had too many memories.
Too many roads she had walked with responsibility sitting heavy on her shoulders.
Lagos was where she built herself.
Where she met Valerie.
Where she learned to laugh loudly again.
Where she became Tammy.
The Tammy everyone knew.
But even the loudest people get quiet in private.
Her phone buzzed again.
Mrs Valerie-Mother of my Godson.
“Good morning daughter of Zionnnn.”
Tammy laughed softly and answered.
“Sister of the bride speaking puhleaseeee.”
Valerie’s voice was warm. “How are you holding up nau?”
Tammy paused.
“I’m fine jare.”
“Are you sure?”
“Val, today is not about me. My sister is getting married. I will cry later.”
Valerie went quiet for a moment.
Then softly, “God has not forgotten you, Tammy.”
Tammy swallowed.
“I know.”
And she truly did know.
She just didn’t understand the timing.
Downstairs, someone started playing gospel music loudly.
Shindara’s laughter echoed from the living room.
Tammy stood up finally.
Looked at herself in the mirror then she tied her wrapper properly and walked toward the door.
“Today,” she whispered to herself, “we celebrate love.”
Because no matter how she felt, she would not let her sister look back at her wedding day and remember a sad face.
Tamilore Adesina did not do half-joy.
If she was going to show up, she would show up fully.
Even if later that night, she would kneel by her bed in Lagos and ask God again.
“When is it my turn?”
And heaven, as always, would remain quiet. For now.
By 10 a.m., the whole place had transformed.
There were ankara and laces everywhere. Gold gele. Camera flashes. Aunties spraying perfume like it was anointing oil.
Tammy stepped out of the room in her fitted aso-ebi gown, deep wine with beadwork that caught the sunlight. Her makeup was soft but defined. Hair pulled back in a sleek bun.
She looked good.
She knew she looked good.
Shindara came out of the bridal room glowing. Tammy rushed to her immediately.
“My baby!” she exclaimed, holding her sister’s face. “See my bride! Omo, you fine die!”
Shindara laughed nervously. “Don’t make me cry, please.”
Tammy hugged her tightly. “You will not cry until after pictures oo. Ejoorrr.”
They both laughed.
And in that moment, Tammy genuinely forgot herself and focused on her baby sister.
The church ceremony was beautiful.
Before Shindara walked down the aisle, Tammy stood beside her, adjusting the veil slightly, whispering, “You’re covered, my love. God goes before you.”
During the vows, Tammy felt her throat tighten.
Not from jealousy but from memory.
From knowing how far they had come.
From remembering the night their parents died and how she had promised herself her siblings would not lack joy.
Now here they were.
One was married. One marrying.
Her baby brother was in the university.
God had kept them and she was grateful.
After church, they moved to the reception hall.
Valerie arrived with Purity just as Tammy was coordinating the caterers.
Tammy turned, saw them and screamed.
“Valerieeeee!”
They hugged like secondary school girls.
Valerie pulled back slightly, hands instinctively resting on her stomach.
Tammy noticed immediately.
“Madam pregnant woman,” she whispered dramatically.
Valerie rolled her eyes. “Shhh. Not here.”
Purity stepped forward and hugged Tammy warmly.
“Sister of the bride. You’re glowing,” he said.
“Daddy pastor, don’t start,” she replied playfully. “Today is not my wedding oo.”
She led them to their seat and they settled down.
Later in the evening, after food had been served and the bride and groom were dancing, Tammy stepped aside near the drinks table to breathe.
She was tired. It had been a stressful day.
That was when someone approached her.
“Excuse me.” She turned.
He was tall, well dressed, clean fade haircut, expensive wristwatch and a confident smile.
“Yes?”
“I’m Samson. I am the groom’s friend.”
She nodded politely. “I am Tammy. Bride’s sister.”
“I figured,” he said smoothly. “You’ve been running this event like a CEO.”
She smiled lightly. “First daughter duties.”
“I can tell.”
There was something about the way he looked at her.
She had seen that look before.
“So are you married?” he asked casually.
She was taken aback. She shook her head. “No.”
He smiled slowly. “Interesting.”
She didn’t like that smile.
“And why is that interesting?” she asked lightly.
“Because a woman like you shouldn’t be single.”
Her spirit paused. The words sounded flattering.
But something underneath them felt… off.
He leaned closer.
“We could hangout sometime later. Go to a club, go to a bar or even take a trip outside town.”
Tammy gawked “Ehhh!!! Outside town keh??.”
“Do you go to church?” she asked
“I don’t really do the church thing though,” he added with a shrug. “But I believe in vibes. Energy. You understand?”
Tammy’s heart quieted instantly.
Ah!!! There it is.
She kept her expression neutral.
“What do you mean you don’t do church?” she asked gently.
He laughed. “Religion is too restrictive. I believe in living free. As long as you’re a good person, that’s enough.”
Her smile remained but inside, something tightened.
Because she knew.
She didn’t judge him.
But she knew.
She had tried “good person” before.
She had tried “he’ll change.”
She had tried “maybe God will work on him.”
And every time, the Holy Spirit had whispered no before her heart even formed an attachment.
She asked one more question.
“So what does purpose mean to you?”
He blinked slightly, surprised.
“Purpose? That sounds deep. As for me, I just want to enjoy life, make money, travel. No stress.”
There it was again. He was empty.
Carton brain.
She nodded slowly.
“That’s nice.”
He studied her.
“You’re very calm. I like that.”
She laughed softly. “I’m not calm oo. Ahhh!! Not at all. I just think before I jump.”
He grinned. “I like women who don’t overthink.”
He is not yours.
She heard the whisper in her spirit very clear.
Kunle lowered his voice slightly.
“Let me get your number. Let’s see where it goes.”
Tammy looked toward the dance floor.
Her sister was laughing with her husband.
Valerie was seated beside Purity, his hand gently resting over hers.
She turned back to Kunle.
“I’m intentional about who I give my number to,” she said kindly.
His smile flickered.
“Meaning?”
“Meaning I don’t date casually.”
He chuckled lightly. “Who said anything about dating?”
Exactly.
She smiled fully now.
“That’s the problem.”
He stared at her for a moment.
Then gave a half nod.
He slipped his hands into his pocket.
“Well, if you change your mind…”
“I won’t,” she replied softly.
He stared at her for a second and turned to walk away.
Tammy stood there alone for a moment.
It was always like this.
Men came.
Men admired her.
Men liked her strength, her beauty, her energy.
But when it came to alignment or compromise?? Never!!
God was too intentional about her love life for her to just settle for anyone.
And she had promised herself she would not marry potential.
She would marry God’s will for her.
Valerie walked up to her, holding two glasses of Chapman.
“Who was that?” she asked quietly.
Tammy shrugged. “Just a fine man with vibes and inshallah.”
Valerie burst into laughter and Tammy joined her.
But when the laughter faded, Valerie looked at her friend closely.
“Hope you’re okay?”
Tammy nodded.
“Very okay.”
The wedding reception had started winding down when Tammy finally allowed herself to sit.
Her feet were on fire.
She slipped off her heels under the table and exhaled like someone who had just completed a marathon.
Valerie joined immediately.
“Come here,” Tammy said, patting the chair beside her.
Valerie eased herself down carefully. Pregnancy had already started making her more sensitive to long hours on her feet.
“Omo, my legs are dying,” Valerie muttered dramatically.
Tammy rolled her eyes. “Madam six weeks pregnant is already complaining.”
“Tammy, don’t annoy me. My heel has been punishing me since.”
Without ceremony, Tammy pulled Valerie’s feet gently onto her lap.
“See this fine pastor’s wife,” she teased. “You cannot suffer on my watch.”
Valerie laughed softly, relaxing into the chair as Tammy began massaging her feet with steady, experienced hands.
“You’ve always done this for us,” Valerie said quietly.
“Done what?”
“Show up, fix things. Make everyone comfortable.”
Tammy shrugged. “It’s what first daughters do.”
Purity walked back toward them at that moment, holding a cup of water in one hand and fruit juice in the other.
“For my wife,” he announced, handing the water to Valerie carefully. “And juice for energy.”
Tammy raised a brow. “Daddy pastor, you’re doing well.”
He grinned. “I’m learning from the best.”
Valerie rolled her eyes but her smile gave her away.
Purity watched Tammy massaging Valerie’s feet and shook his head affectionately.
“You see why God will bless you?” he said. “You cannot even rest from God mother duties at your own sister’s wedding.”
Tammy waved him off. “Abegiii. Go and sit down.”
Joel and Daniel arrived shortly after, carrying plates stacked with small chops like teenage boys who had discovered free food.
“Tammy!” Joel called out dramatically. “Bride’s sister! We’ve been looking for you everywhere.”
“Looking for food, you mean,” she replied.
Daniel pulled up a chair. “Food first. Gist later.”
Joel teased Purity about being “soft” since marriage.
Daniel joked about how marriage had turned him into a delivery service for cravings.
Valerie defended her husband with playful pride.
Tammy leaned back in her chair, watching them all banter.
There was something deeply comforting about it.
This was her community. Just people who loved each other.
At some point, music started playing loudly again and Joel dragged Tammy to the dance floor.
“You cannot sit down like a widow,” he said dramatically.
“Joel, behave!” she protested, laughing as he spun her.
Daniel joined in.
Purity clapped from the side while Valerie shook her head, smiling.
For a moment, Tammy forgot timelines.
Forgot expectations.
Forgot questions.
She was happy.
Later in the evening, it was time for Shindara and her husband to leave for the hotel before their trip to Uyo the next morning.
Tammy walked her sister outside.
The night air was cooler now.
The noise from the hall softened behind them.
Shindara held Tammy’s hands tightly.
“Congratulations, sis. You did it,” Shindara whispered.
“Did what?” Tammy asked softly.
“You successfully raised us.”
Tammy blinked.
“Don’t start,” she warned gently.
But Shindara’s eyes were already filling.
“When mummy and daddy died… I didn’t understand what was happening. I just knew you changed overnight.”
Tammy swallowed slowly.
“You became everything. Mother. Father. Big sister. Provider. Prayer warrior.”
Tammy shook her head. “God helped me.”
“Yes. But you showed up.”
Tears slipped down Shindara’s cheeks.
“You paid my school fees when you were barely surviving in Lagos. You missed trips. You postponed your life.”
Tammy pulled her into a hug immediately.
“I didn’t postpone my life,” she whispered into her sister’s hair. “This was my life.”
Shindara held her tightly.
“I am grateful for you,” she said softly. “Every day.”
Tammy closed her eyes.
“Go and build your own home now,” she whispered. “And love your husband well. Don’t bring our family stubbornness there.”
They both laughed through tears.
“I love you,” Shindara said.
“I love you more.”
They stood there a little longer before her husband came to gently lead her away.
Tammy watched the car drive off not with sadness but with fulfillment.
Another prayer answered.
As she turned back toward the hall, she saw her younger brother walking toward her.
Her baby.
Even though he was now twenty and taller than her.
“Big sis,” he called.
She opened her arms immediately.
He hugged her tight and planted a quick peck on her cheek.
“You have tried for today. You need to rest,” he said proudly.
Tammy smiled. “Tried ke? You guys made it easy.”
He laughed. “You’ve done well. All of us know it.”
She squeezed his arm. “Focus on your books in that your expensive private university. Don’t let me come and withdraw you.”
He raised his hands playfully. “Ah!!! Egbon Adugbo!!!! I fear you.”
They both laughed.
He slipped his arm around her shoulders as they walked back inside.
When everything finally ended and guests began leaving, Tammy insisted on taking her brother to her house for the night.
They entered the car and immediately turned the volume high.
Gospel Afrobeats filled the space.
They sang loudly and off-key.
Laughing at nothing and everything.
At a traffic light, her brother looked at her sideways.
“You’re okay, right?”
Tammy smiled genuinely.
“I’m good, bobo.”
And she meant it.
They reached home and parked outside.
Before stepping out, she paused for a moment.
The house was quiet.
The street calm.
Her brother nudged her lightly.
“You’re zoning out.”
She shook her head and smiled.
“Just thinking.”
“About what?”
“About how far we’ve come.”
He nodded slowly.
“It will get better from here on.”
She believed him.
They stepped out of the car and walked into the house together.
Tammy felt something settle deep in her chest.
Contentment.
Not because everything was perfect.
But because love surrounded her.
And sometimes that was enough.
The night ended with laughter echoing through the hallway as they argued about who would wash plates.
Tammy went to bed smiling.
Happy to be with family.
Happy to be with friends who loved her.
Happy to have poured her life into something that flourished.
And for that moment, her heart was at peace.
Even if her own story felt delayed, she trusted the Author.
Always.
Hi babiessssssss….
Oh my gosh!!! I missed you guys so much. I am back from my retreat and i came with a banger.
Welcome to Tammy’s love story. A story of Love, trust and fulfilment.
New episodes drop once a week. Sundays or Wednesdays? Which do you pick?
🎵What we've been waiting for has come to pass, see what the Lord has done🎵
Tammy, this is your song okayy.
Welcome backkk Mama, and I think there was a typo oh, you meant to type Sunday AND Wednesday Abi???
May God save us from typos mehnnn🌚