Mrs. Yinka Ogunde will be committed to the earth today.

Today is also her birthday.

She would have been 62.

This morning, Facebook woke me up with a reminder:

“Yinka Ogunde and 8 others have birthdays today. Help them celebrate!”

Well, today, for me, it is a different kind of celebration from what Facebook envisaged.

It is not the celebration of another birthday in the ordinary sense.

It is the celebration of the life, labour, legacy, and continuing witness of Mrs. Yinka Ogunde.

Perhaps, in a strange and solemn way, I am obeying Facebook’s instruction: help her celebrate.

So, I write this second tribute since she passed to glory.

Yesterday, I joined other well-meaning Nigerians, elders, colleagues, friends, and particularly stakeholders within the educational sector, at the Service of Songs and Night of Tributes held in her honour.

For me, and I believe for many others, it was surreal.

Is this how short life is?

Is this how suddenly a voice can become memory?

Is this how quickly a presence can become legacy?

Scripture reminds us:

“For what is your life? It is even a vapour, that appeareth for a little time, and then vanisheth away.”
— James 4:14

Two things became very clear to me.

First, as the preacher reminded us, if our hope is only in this world, then our story is incomplete.

“If in this life only we have hope in Christ, we are of all men most miserable.”
— 1 Corinthians 15:19

Second, breath is both a gift and a responsibility.

To be alive is not merely to exist. It is to contribute. It is to plant. It is to serve. It is to build tangible and eternal continuations that make the world better than we met it.

Mrs. Ogunde understood this.

Her life was not merely counted in years. It was counted in impact.

She lived in such a way that death, whenever it came, would not meet her empty, idle, or unprepared. For those who live with purpose, death may be sudden to us, but it does not meet them unready.

To us, her departure may feel too soon.

But people who live prepared escape what we commonly call untimely death, because they do not live carelessly with time. They live awake. They live poured out. They live as stewards.

“So teach us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom.”
— Psalm 90:12

This is why I struggle with the usual prayer: “May God grant us the fortitude to bear the irreparable loss.”

For people like Mrs. Ogunde, I do not believe loss is the right final word.

Yes, we feel pain.

Yes, we feel absence.

Yes, we feel the silence of a voice we still expected to hear.

But this is not an irreparable loss.

A life planted in others is not lost.

A life poured into generations is not lost.

A life that continues to speak through values, institutions, memories, mentees, colleagues, students, and systems is not lost.

Scripture says:

“Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord… that they may rest from their labours; and their works do follow them.”
— Revelation 14:13

That is the matter.

Their works follow them.

Their lives continue to speak.

Their memory provokes greater works.

Their example becomes instruction.

Their departure becomes a summons.

For such people, death is not deletion. It is transition.

It is not erasure. It is elevation.

It is not the end of meaning. It is a change of suit.

It is a call to rest.

It is a call to glory.

Mrs. Yinka Ogunde lived, served, contributed, and left footprints within the educational sector and beyond. Those who encountered her work will not struggle to understand what I mean.

Today, therefore, I do not merely mourn.

I reflect.

I honour.

I celebrate.

I receive instruction.

And I am reminded again that the real question is not how long we live, but what our lives make possible while we live.

As Mrs. Ogunde is committed to the earth today, on the very day Facebook reminds us to celebrate her birthday, may we understand the deeper message:

Life is brief.

Purpose is urgent.

Impact is eternal.

And legacy is the only language death cannot silence.

Rest in glory, Mrs. Yinka Ogunde.

Your works follow you.

Your memory speaks.

Your life continues.