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     Open Letter To My late Mum: my peregrination in the hands of fate. By Sunday Ajibola (Edobor) Life can be interesting, agonising, depressing and fulfilling at times. It often throws man into emotions of varying degrees. Certain happenstances rekindle memories of decades and make one feel as if they just occurred. This open letter is one of such. Pardon my digression. Momo mi, I am sorry for not getting in touch with you all these years; 27 years to be precise. I have no doubt you have forgiven me even before I asked for it; you have never held misdeeds against me. Though, most of the time, I remember you. But mainly, your special position has not really been fully occupied. Its after your demise that reality of the Yoruba saying "orisa bi iya osi" (there is no deity as mother) dawned on me. Now, I realise that i forgot to ask you so many questions. But then, questions are never exhausted.    That very day you finally bowed to the icy hands of death, your state of health