Yesterday, I went to greet a friend in Agbowo, Ajetunmobi, Ibadan, and I found myself just standing there, staring at the brown roofs. There is something about Ibadan’s brown roofs that humbles you. They stretch endlessly, almost like they are telling their own story.
As I looked at them, one word came to mind, tenacity. Those roofs have seen sun, heavy rain, harmattan dust, yet they are still there. No noise at all, just standing. That kind of quiet strength does something to you.
Life in that part of Ibadan is not fancy. It is not polished. But it is real. Every day, people wake up under those roofs and face whatever the day brings. They hustle. They endure. They try again. And somehow, the roofs remain, watching everything unfold.
From where I stood, I could see UI from afar, rising above the city with its own presence. It felt symbolic. On one side, everyday survival. On the other, structure and aspiration. Yet they exist in the same space, both important, both standing.
And it made me reflect. Maybe tenacity is not always loud. Maybe it is simply refusing to collapse. Maybe it is waking up daily in the heart of Ibadan and choosing to stand, no matter what.
Happy New Week Folks🥂