Chalcedony Network Media

Friday, 29th of August 2025, will remain forever engraved in our memories — the day we laid my beloved brother, Rev. Bukunmi Olarenwaju Oriowo, to rest. It was a day wrapped in sorrow, filled with tears, and marked by the kind of silence that only tragedy can bring. From the early hours of the morning, the atmosphere was heavy. Friends, church members, colleagues, and well-wishers gathered in their numbers. The compound was filled with people, yet the weight of grief made it feel empty — because the one we had all come to honor lay lifeless, prepared for his final rest. My siblings and I stood together, bound not only by blood but by the collective pain of losing a brother who had been our joy, our example, and our companion. Each of us carried a different memory of him — the way he advised, the way he prayed, the way he laughed with us in lighter moments. His absence left a gap in our circle, a space no one else can ever fill. Beside us was his wife, clothed in sorrow deeper than word...

Inspired by Isaiah 53 and the biblical figure of Jesus Christ: A servant born of sorrow's might, With wounds that heal the darkest night. He bore the weight of others' pain, A sacrifice, a love in vain. His face marred, beyond human sight, He suffered, though his heart shone bright. For all our sins, he paid the price, A ransom given, a love so nice. Like sheep, we strayed, he bore the blame, His silence spoke of love's great name. The nails that pierced, the thorns that crowned, Were instruments of love profound. In death, he gave life its true form, A servant's heart, forever warm. His suffering shows us what love can do, A sacrifice, pure, strong, and true. Through his pain, our healing flows, A servant's love, that forever glows. May we learn from his humble way, And follow him, day by day.

The void created on Saturday, 23rd August, 2025 is a vacuum that words can scarcely describe — a space carved so deeply in our hearts that time itself cannot erase. It still feels like a dream, a scene too fragile to be true. Each time your name is whispered, silence answers. Each time we look for your familiar gestures, warm smiles, and soothing voice, reality reminds us — you are no longer here.   Haa! Daddy and Mummy still sit in awe, wrestling with the mystery of your early departure. Their hearts bleed, yet they bow in surrender, acknowledging that God is the giver and taker of life. Your siblings remain caught in the whirl of imagination, struggling to align the memories of yesterday with the emptiness of today. Your beloved wife walks through memories of your union — the laughter, the prayers, the dreams you shared. And then there is your little daughter: her gestures, smiles, and innocent expressions remind us so much of you, but alas, you are not on the scene anymore. Sinc...