“My name is Musa. This is my path.”

Before Nigeria, before borders, before the names we carry—our people existed.

They prayed with open palms under the stars, called on God by names older than textbooks, and walked barefoot on land that didn’t yet have lines drawn through it. Back then, our truth wasn’t found in passports or last names—it was found in the rhythm of our breath, in the language of the soul, and in the call to prayer that echoed through the trees before it ever reached a loudspeaker.

This is not just history. This is blood memory.

My grandfather was born into a time when the land still whispered its secrets in Yoruba, in silence, in sujud. He once flew from Osun to Oyo—not just as a traveler—but as a seeker. That trip changed everything. There, he found more than just a bride—he found a beginning. A house. A seed of Islam quietly rooted, long before anyone stamped “Nigeria” on it.

They say Islam came with Arab traders or through Jihad. But in my family, it came with love. With small choices. A marriage. A move. A moment of faith.

Long before I was called Musa, my grandfather made a decision to anchor his home with something eternal. He didn’t shout it from rooftops. He lived it—gentle, firm, consistent. His beard was soft, but his conviction was sharp.

He had one child—my father.
And through him, I came.

But here’s the twist:
I wasn’t just born into Nigeria.
I was born into a story far older.

A story where identity wasn’t shaped by colonizers but by callers to prayer.

A story where lineage meant more than legacy—it meant light.
And though I’ve struggled, wandered, and questioned—this truth always pulls me back:

Before the name Musa came pain, purpose, and people of prayer.

They weren’t perfect. But they were present. They lived Islam in whispers, not hashtags. And somehow, even now, their whispers still reach me.

That’s why I start this series here.
Not with me. But with them. Because the path I walk didn’t begin with my feet—it began with their footsteps.

My name is Musa. This is what I found when I stopped running.

See you on the next one — August 11th.

Episode 2: When Faith Took Root – The Islam of 1960

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