Homecoming & Heritage: A Journey to Lagos, Nigeria
June 13 – July 3, 2025
Day 1: Departing Tallahassee — A Journey Begins
Friday, June 13, 2025
Friday the 13th may carry ominous folklore, but for us, it marked the beginning of a deeply personal journey back to Nigeria. Our journey home had begun. For the first time, we took an Uber to the Tallahassee airport—it seemed the most cost-effective option since we avoided airport parking. We were both dressed comfortably: I wore my Liverpool jersey top and bottom, while she had on relaxed slacks.
Check-in at Tallahassee airport was seamless with PreCheck—we didn’t even have to remove our shoes or belts. Though I had felt some apprehension about this trip for a while, the moment had arrived, and I felt a mix of excitement and optimism.
We boarded a Boeing 717-200 to Atlanta, seated in 2B and 2C. The seats were quite comfortable. We were offered drinks while final flight checks were completed. By 12:11 p.m., the doors were closed, and we were ready for takeoff.
We landed in Atlanta on time and headed to the Delta Lounge. It was a relief not to worry about food—there was a nice selection of meals and drinks. We relaxed there until our long-haul flight to Lagos. Everything, so far, was going smoothly.
Boarding in Atlanta was decent, although it could have been more organized—wheelchairs clogged the boarding lanes. Still, we were welcomed with orange juice or champagne; we both opted for orange juice. We looked forward to the meals and rest aboard the A330-200 in Delta One.
Dinner turned out to be underwhelming. While it was a three-course meal, I may have chosen the wrong entrée. Still, I laid flat and hoped to catch some sleep before morning in Lagos. I expected to wake for breakfast.
Unfortunately, breakfast was a letdown, and my stomach felt unsettled. The meals overall could have been better.
The good news was the airport transition in Lagos exceeded my expectations—it was cleaner, less crowded, and functioned much better than I remembered. Our driver was punctual, the car was neat, and the AC worked so well we had to tone it down.
We checked in at the Marriott in Ikeja. It lived up to expectations—it could’ve easily been a hotel in Europe or the U.S. The rooms were clean, and the staff was courteous. Best of all, we were upgraded.
Day One – Saturday, June 14, 2025
I woke up feeling refreshed. I noticed I had already gained a few pounds—calories were hard to avoid with the tastes of home. Being in the tropics, we took our daily malarial prophylactic (Malarone), unlike typhoid prophylaxis which we had completed before departure.
We headed to the Marriott M Lounge for breakfast, which was sumptuous—continental oatmeal alongside traditional Nigerian yam and eggs, finished with orange juice. The pepper sauce was especially delicious.
Later, we journeyed to see my mother in Otta, Ogun State. Lagos traffic felt like an obstacle course. The roads weren’t terrible, but the volume of cars jostling for position was overwhelming. I hadn’t seen motorway hawkers in a while—selling everything from food to water between moving vehicles. Surprisingly, traffic lights were functional.
Visiting my mother was touching. Despite her health—being legally blind from glaucoma and having severe arthritis—she was in good spirits. We reminisced about family stories, and she prayed for us, especially me in retirement. It was humbling and grounding.
Back at the hotel, we grabbed a quick bite at the M Lounge while waiting for my sister to bring home-cooked meals. We gathered in our room—siblings, niece, nephew—and enjoyed local delicacies. After an enjoyable evening, we packed up and called it a night. I noted that, so far, my earlier apprehension had been largely unfounded—though the real work in Satellite Town would begin tomorrow.
Day Two – Sunday, June 15, 2025
We started early after a light breakfast. Our first stop was GT Bank to renew bank cards and open estate accounts. Traffic, being a Monday morning, was chaotic as expected.
Mission accomplished. The bank staff were courteous and helpful. Cards renewed, estate matters initiated—we then headed to Satellite Town to begin clearing the house my wife and her siblings grew up in.
To my surprise, Satellite Town roads had been tarred—a huge difference in just a few years. Signs of progress were visible.
The day was intense. With handheld fans and battery lamps, we began the painstaking process of decluttering a house full of memories. We secured essential documents and discarded a lot of old, valueless items. Exhausted, we left for Ile Iyan in Ikeja for a late lunch/early dinner. I had okra soup with pounded yam and efo riro; others had seafood okra. Back at the hotel, we turned in early, preparing for another round of house clearing in the morning.
Day Three – Monday, June 16, 2025
We got a later start after breakfast. Picked up food for lunch and borrowed a generator from my brother’s office. Heading back to Satellite Town, we noticed traffic had eased somewhat, and road improvements made the drive smoother.
Initially, we couldn’t get the generator running. In the sweltering heat, I stepped out to find a technician I’d seen earlier. He came, turned it on within a minute, and suddenly we had electricity—fans running, even the microwave worked. What a difference power makes!
With the generator on, we cleared most rooms. It was a productive day. Back at the hotel, I showered off the dust, sorted more documents, and had dinner—fried yam, plantains, peppered goat meat, and a bitter lemon drink. Then, I collapsed into bed.
Day Five – Wednesday, June 18, 2025
We set out after a cautious breakfast; many of us had been dealing with gastrointestinal discomfort, including bouts of diarrhea. Armed with Imodium, we made a quick detour to the bank to finalize estate matters before heading to Satellite Town to resume the house clearing.
Days Six & Seven – Thursday & Friday, June 19–20, 2025
Day Six was mostly a day of rest and more banking errands. We received word from my father’s lawyer that his probate papers had finally been released. I scheduled a meeting with him for Monday to collect the necessary documents and settle legal fees.
On Day Seven, we began the journey to Ondo to continue work on my mother-in-law’s estate. We planned to return to Lagos by Sunday, God willing. We left Ikeja, driving through Shagamu and Ore. On our last trip to Ondo, we were stopped over 20 times by police. This time wasn’t much better—halfway there, we had already encountered 12 stops, with demands for bribes.
That journey, which should have taken under two hours anywhere else in the world, stretched to more than five.
At first, I was angry—frustrated at the delay, disgusted by the audacity.
But as the hours wore on, that anger gave way to something else: pity.
Because if waking up each morning to extort strangers is what someone has to do to survive… then the problem is no longer that individual. It is the society that created such desperation. A nation where a man in uniform, charged with protecting life and law, now lives on the edge of hunger.
So yes, reward the Falcons. They brought us glory on the continental stage. But remember this: excellence should not be the only pathway to dignity.
What of the schoolteacher who gives her all on ₦50,000 a month? The doctor working 36-hour shifts for ₦250,000 and still unpaid? The police officer soaked in rain, guarding lives while struggling to feed his family?
We eventually arrived at the house in Ondo but couldn’t get in. A locksmith came and broke the locks—it took over an hour, by which point we were tired and famished. Inside, everything was untouched—frozen in time since her death. We aired out the house and planned to return the next morning to begin clearing.
Finding the drivers’ hotel was another ordeal. GPS failed, leading us down dead ends. We finally called the hotel, perched precariously on a hill. Though we had confirmed bookings, they couldn’t find them and charged us more for new rooms.
We then drove to Akure to check into our own hotel—Ojaja Suites. It looked great from the outside, but that quickly changed. Our rooms weren’t ready despite the late check-in, and it took another hour to get in. Once we did, we discovered most menu items were unavailable. We settled for pounded yam with okra soup, and rice with dodo.
Just as we finished dinner, a heavy tropical storm rolled in. Back in our room, we found water on the floor from a leaky ceiling—unacceptable for a 9-month-old hotel. The sheets were stained, so we replaced them with our own. The mattress was rock hard—I barely slept and woke up with aching joints. Mosquitoes added to the misery, despite using repellents. I was already counting the days until we returned to Lagos.
Saturday, June 21, 2025 – Departure from Akure
After another terrible night, we woke early, showered, and ate bread with butter and jam from the day before. We gave the hotel manager a candid review and warned that without improvements, the hotel wouldn’t survive.
We set off with two cars heading to Lagos via Ibadan and a third going toward Ikirun. There were fewer checkpoints, but the corruption was worse. One officer threatened to impound our car despite all papers being in order, then demanded ₦5,000 for lacking a “roadworthiness” document.
Driving was treacherous—no signs, no road markings, and crater-sized potholes. What should’ve been a one-lane road turned into four, with cars overtaking on both sides. I knew I could never drive in Nigeria again.
We passed Ikire Kingdom and bought dodo Ikire. I was tempted by akara and Lagos bread but opted for Gala sausage rolls instead—still tasting like my childhood.
Back in Lagos, we returned to the Marriott. What a contrast. Clean rooms, hot showers, and heavenly beds. Finally, we were set for our first good night’s sleep in three nights.
Wednesday, June 25, 2025 – Afternoon Visit to Epe
I visited my late father’s home and stood at his gravesite in a deeply reflective mood. The grave was in disrepair—erosion had damaged the grounds due to poor drainage. While the house structure was still intact, it clearly needed work. The question now was how to fund it, especially since the family estate account was overdrawn and legal fees still loomed.
Thursday, June 26, 2025
Despite an uneasy stomach, I continued to challenge my American GI tract with the native foods I grew up loving. I had Amala with gbegiri at a local spot—simple but satisfying.
Later, we rushed to attend the Tobi Adeyemi Foundation event. It was moving—so much being done with so little. I left inspired to direct part of my charitable giving toward youth empowerment in Nigeria. These kids had potential—they just needed opportunity. We returned to the hotel, had dinner, and went straight to bed.
Friday, June 27, 2025 – Family Retirement Brunch
At the Lagos Marriott, we gathered for a special brunch to mark my retirement. My mother was there, though my father watched from above.
I had prepared a speech but never found the right moment to deliver it aloud—nor was I sure I could have gotten through it without emotion. So I shared it in writing instead.
Retirement Speech – Family Luncheon Dr. Adekunle Omotayo
Good afternoon, everyone.
Thank you all for being here with me today. This moment is more than just a celebration of retirement—it’s a reflection of a journey that began many decades ago, across continents, through challenges, transitions, and triumphs.
In 1989, I left Nigeria with a suitcase full of dreams and the quiet determination to build a life of purpose. My path first took me to London for a few months, then on to Dublin for a few years of learning and growth. I returned to England to train and work until 1997, and then made a bold leap across the Atlantic to the United States—to start all over again with a residency in Internal Medicine.
I completed that chapter in 2001, and soon after, Tallahassee became home. For 24 years, I was privileged to serve at Capital Health Plan, dedicating my life to the wellbeing of this community. I’ve worked hard, yes—but I’ve also been incredibly lucky. Because everywhere you look in my life, you’ll see the unmistakable hand of God’s grace. But grace alone doesn’t carry you forward—it is magnified when you walk alongside those who give your life depth and meaning. To my beloved wife Yemi—my partner, my anchor, my greatest blessing. None of this—none of this—would have been possible without your unwavering love, your sacrifices, your faith in me, and the quiet strength with which you’ve held our family together.
To our two wonderful daughters—though they can’t be here physically today, know that your mother and I are immensely proud of the strong, compassionate, and accomplished women you’ve become. You are the legacy we cherish most.
To my friends and family, your presence—whether near or far—has been a source of strength. Your encouragement, prayers, and support have made the hard days bearable and the good days even more joyful.
To my mother—thank you for the gift of life, and for grounding me in faith, integrity, and resilience. Your lessons have lit my path through every season.
To dad, who I miss dearly—how I wish you could see this day. But I know you’re with us in spirit. Your devotion to your children, your tireless service, and your legendary sacrifices continue to shape me. I carry your example with pride and gratitude.
And above all—I thank God. For life, for purpose, for family, for health, and for the privilege to serve. Without His grace, none of this holds.
As I close this chapter and begin the next, I carry the memories, lessons, and love of this journey with me. Retirement is not the end—it is simply a new beginning.
Thank you all. May God bless you.
Monday, June 30, 2025
We spent two nights with my brother in Magodo—he took care of everything, food and all. We hoped to see my sister, who lived nearby. That afternoon, we drove to Victoria Island to shop and perhaps visit Eko Atlantic. The drive across the 3rd Mainland Bridge brought back memories. Though traffic flowed initially, the return route was jammed.
We passed through Ikoyi with its multimillion-dollar mansions, did some shopping, and then explored Eko Atlantic. Where Bar Beach once was, we now found high-rises and reclaimed land. I remembered being a child, dipping my toes in the Atlantic with my dad.
One vivid childhood memory resurfaced: the public execution of Oyenusi and his gang at Bar Beach. My father had carried me on his shoulders to watch. That day instilled a lasting lesson in me about the consequences of wrongdoing.
Tuesday, July 1, 2025 – The Inevitable
Yemi finally caught a cold—two weeks of stress had taken their toll. I, too, began coughing overnight and filled myself with lemon, ginger, and honey. We went to the bank before heading to Ota to see my mother one last time.
She had hoped to show me her chosen burial place in her village, Oyero, but poor road conditions made the trip impossible.
Thursday, July 3, 2025 – Going Home
After a three-week odyssey, we waited in the airport lounge for our flight home. The new terminal was surprisingly clean and cool, though we had to walk through the old terminal to reach our gate.
In-flight service was better this time, though I couldn’t eat much—the flu had taken hold. Thankfully, I was able to rest in Delta One. Yemi had passed her cold to me, though she was already recovering.
Back home, I still felt unwell and sensed something more. A home COVID test confirmed it: I was positive. Yemi, thankfully, tested negative. The July 4th holiday passed in a blur—I slept through most of it, trying to recover. But even through the aches, I held onto something greater—gratitude. For the privilege of homecoming, for the comfort of family, for the richness of roots that run deep.
Adekunle Omotayo MD.
Simply O 