On the 3rd of october 2014,Taiwo Oshadipe died after an excruciating battle with LUPUS disease.The twin sister, Oshadipe Kehinde shared her last moments with encomium ,she said after Taiwo had her son, she was frequently falling ill and complaining of body weakness and joint pains.She was also coughing profusely to the extent that she was even coughing out blood.
On her last day on earthEven up till now, I still don’t realize Taiwo is no more. Even as I sit down here now, I still believe Taiwo is around me. I have not been seeing her physically but spiritually, I still see her. It’s only that most times I don’t like to be emotional about it so that wherever she is, she too would not be emotional about me. As
much as she has crossed to the other end, there are some of our friends that had gone, that she had seen now. So, she would try to make friends with those people and try to adapt to that life. That’s just the way I see it. I still see her as being very much around. I still see her clothes, I see her handwriting everywhere. I still can’t dispose off her shoes, clothes and other wears because I still have this feeling that Taye will still come back and wear all those things. I don’t know when. I am attaching a kind of emotion to things that belong to her. When Taiwo was here, I could say, ‘Taye, I want to use this thing. But now, I find it difficult to touch any of her things. I will just feel like Taye is not here for me to tell her I want to use her things. That’s exactly how I feel.
That’s early in the morning(October 3rd). It was our mom that woke us up, telling us it was already morning, asking if we’re not going to the hospital again. It was around 6 o’clock, and that was on Friday, October 3, 2014. So, as our mom knocked the door, I had a kind of feeling. I was afraid. It’s like there was a thief at the door that had come to steal something in the house. The feeling was just all over me. I almost didn’t even open the door. I asked, “Who is that? Who is that?” My mom answered, then I opened the door. She came in. Taiwo was breathing heavily, my mom said she heard the way Taiwo was breathing heavily. I went and sat down with her.
Even when she was really sick, she won’t want our mom to notice. She didn’t like to let her feel bad because it was barely three years we lost our elder brother. She thought our mom would be torn apart if anything happened to her. So, she was trying to be strong. I asked her in the presence of our mom, “Taiwo, how do you feel this morning?” She was almost speechless and breathless. She replied, “I feel better.” I said it’s okay. “Let’s get dressed up and go to the hospital.” That’s the last thing Taiwo said. But before then, she sat by the bedside and I held her hand. My body was touching hers, I discovered her body was cold. I held her hand but I still nursed the faith that everything would be fine.
She was not looking at me, she just put her head down. She didn’t look at my face. I was just telling myself, we’re wasting time, we need to get ready and go to the hospital. I just stood up. I didn’t even bathe, I just wore something. I wanted us to leave in time. As I was dressing, my mom was with her. She said she wanted to ease herself, my mom helped her. Her urine was like blood. My mom was surprised. She said we just had to take the urine to the hospital so that the doctor could detect what’s actually wrong with her. Throughout the time she was ill, her urine was never that bad. I just heard my mom shouting, ‘Kenny, Kenny, come and see.’ I told my mom, leave her alone, there was nothing wrong with her. So, I went there and saw her. By the time I got there, she was lifeless.
I just said to myself, no, it’s not possible. Taiwo can’t just leave at this point. We had a lot of dreams and aspirations together, and she knew how far we have come. She can’t just leave me. How can she walk out on me just like that? I just called the security man in our house to help me carry her. The guy put her in my car, with my mom. My mom and the security man were calling her, she was not responding. I was looking back and calling her, Taye, Taye, Taye. I shouted, shouted her name, she wasn’t responding.
I drove her to the hospital, LASUTH, to the emergency section. I called on a doctor to come and see her, I told her we have been shouting her name but she was not responding. The doctor checked her pulse, and confirmed her dead. We couldn’t still believe. I called another doctor, the same thingHow did you cope for the first three days of her death?
First three days of her death was very challenging for me. I never even thought I could survive it. I would just sit and be imagining how we were together and begin to take it as my world is gone, everything is gone because Taye was my world. She meant everything to me. That’s just the truth because if the whole world should vanish now, and I see Taiwo, I don’t think I would miss anything. That’s how much we were into each other. She can’t be here and I won’t utter a word, I would just look into her eyes, we have communicated.What was your last word at her graveside?
I just told her how much I loved her and I missed her. And that I would try my best, take care of her son. I have considered her son as mine and I will make sure I try my best which I think I am doing already. And I will make sure that the dream we passionately fought for and the hustles would not go in vain.Have you ever visited her tomb since she was buried? And when you got there what did you say?
Taiwo and son
I have visited her tomb and when I visit, I wouldn’t want to leave. Even though it’s quiet. But just knowing that she is there is enough. Maybe people will say she wouldn’t hear me or talk back if I say something, I don’t really care. But for the fact that I know that as I am there that particular time, she knows that I am there. It took the help of our manager for me to leave the place. He was the one saying, ‘Kenny, Kenny, we have to go home.’ It’s still very emotional that Taiwo is lying down somewhere and I can’t help her. I can’t wake her up. How? That’s the most painful aspect of it.Culled from encomium