Today, I lift up the soul of Alex Ekubo before the throne of God.
Lord of mercy and compassion, receive Your son into eternal peace.
For every smile he gave, every life he touched, every room he lit up with laughter, charm, kindness, and excellence, may those seeds of joy speak for him before You.
Father, where he was imperfect, let Your mercy be greater.
Where he was weary, let him now find rest.
Where he carried burdens unseen by the world, let him now be free.
May the light of Christ shine upon him.
May angels receive him gently.
May sorrow, pain, fear, and struggle depart from him forever.
Grant him peaceful repose in Your eternal kingdom, where there is no suffering, no grief, and no end to love.
Comfort all who mourn him, family, friends, colleagues, and the countless people whose hearts are broken by his passing.
Let his memory remain a blessing.
Let the beauty of his spirit continue to echo through the lives he touched.
For dust returns to dust, but love never dies.
May his soul, and the souls of all the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in perfect peace.
Amen.
There are some people whose presence fills a room before they even speak.
Alexx Ekubo was one of those rare souls.
A perfectionist.
A quintessential actor.
Quick-witted, humble, effortlessly charming and always the life of the party.
I still remember organizing a show in Nigeria when many of the hired professionals simply did not show up. The event was on the brink of collapsing. But Alex came through - not only did he show up, he arrived with a whole retinue of friends, energy, laughter, and life. He became MC extraordinaire that night and transformed what could have been a disaster into something joyful, memorable, and alive.
He took me around Lagos after I had been away for such a long time. He reintroduced me to my turf with genuine love, admiration, and respect. He called me “Mother,” and I proudly called him “Son.”
When I introduced him to Big Rudy as “our Nigerian son,” Big Rudy laughed and said,
“Cool… as long as I don’t have to pay child support.”
And from that moment, their own beautiful witty friendship began. Alex was everybody’s friend.
Our last exchange still sits heavy on my heart. I was annoyed by his silence, not realizing he was carrying pain privately. That was Alex, deeply private, dignified, and never wanting to burden others with his struggles. Even in suffering, he chose silence.
He could have reached out. He could have come over for specialized care. But he remained quietly himself until the very end.
And now, at just 40 years old, a bright light has gone out far too soon.
Thank you for the laughter.
Thank you for the loyalty.
Thank you for the memories.
Thank you for the joy you brought into every room and every life you touched.
Rest well, my Son.
You will never be forgotten.
Regina Askia Williams
Lovely Mother’s Day. ❤️
My heart was full today.
All my kids came together again with thoughtful gifts for Mom - food, laughter, red wine, peppered gizzards, pepper soup, and the kind of conversation that reminds you that family is not just about pictures. Sometimes it is about sitting together and telling the truth.
We talked about identity - African, African American, mixed heritage, Blackness, whiteness, belonging, and the strange pressure people feel to choose one side of themselves just to make others comfortable.
Stephanie spoke about loving both sides of her family - her Black family and her French white family - and how unfair it is that even love can become political in this country.
Teesa spoke about the misunderstandings between ethnic Africans and African Americans - how two people can share roots and still hurt each other because history has shaped them differently.
We talked about corporate America, where people call it “kissing ass,” but sometimes what they really mean is learning how to survive systems, follow rules, read the room, and still not lose yourself.
We talked about toxic workplaces, confidence, joy, exhaustion, taxes, bills, and how life here can sometimes feel like you work, pay taxes, die — and somehow still owe one more tax.
Then we looked over at Lil Rudy, passed out on the couch after work, and laughed because there was the whole sermon in one picture.
That is motherhood too. Watching your children carry their own burdens while still showing up with love.
Big Rudy’s gift almost took me out. This man never complained about my extra spare tires, but for Mother’s Day he gave me a full belly-fat-blasting system. Chaii. Wetin that one come mean now? 😂
Still, I thank God.
For the children.
For the conversations.
For the laughter.
For the struggle.
For the love that survives all of it.
The kids did not want to be in the photos, but Happy Mother’s Day from all of us.
Be blessed. 🌹
For some of us, elevation is wrought—
not built on networks,
nor sustained by systems,
but forged through grit, discipline, and God.
Every title I carry—or didn’t—
every space I walk into,
every life I touch,
came from the ground up.
Earned. Not assigned.
Always raw, impactful truth.
Speaking truth to power— and never on the terms of small gods among men.
Shut out? Denied a seat at the table?
Denied voting rights, profiled, overlooked, weighed down by the noise of the these wars around the world ?
Build your own damn table.
We have been here before - and we prevailed. Sometimes you have to pause and recognize just how far you’ve come.
Rising anyway.
Winning—unapologetically.
On my terms.
To everyone building from the ground up—keep going.
Let’s celebrate each other today in the spirit of resilience and unexpected victory against all odds.
Happy Cinco de Mayo.
Speaking to my 94-year-old mom for 45 minutes this morning was nothing short of a gift.
I added my 75-year-old aunt from Texas to the call, and what followed was a journey through time—childhood memories, the streams and rivers that crisscross Akwa Ibom, and the forests that once held what they called “nature’s pharmacy.”
They spoke of leaves that healed, remedies passed down from my grandmother—who seemed to have something for every ailment. As they talked, I took notes… because it hit me deeply that this knowledge is fading. Progress has come, yes—but with it, a quiet erosion of traditional wisdom, of forests, of ways of life that once sustained entire communities.
They wondered aloud why no one sees what they see—that this land is a treasure, a place of healing, history, and even tourism potential. Rivers rich with minerals, clay from riverbeds used for health, and a natural ecosystem that once supported both body and soul.
But beyond all of that, what stayed with me most was love.
They spoke about family—children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren. My mom smiled through her words, grateful for every life connected to hers. And in her wisdom, she said something so powerful: no one should pressure the younger generation—everyone will find their way in their own time.
We laughed about the weather—how the cold is “evil,” and how neither of them plans to come to New Jersey anytime soon because it’s “not good for the bones.” Then came talk of Texas… maybe a family home, a place closer to the warmth of Nigeria, where family could gather and rest.
And then… we prayed.
The way they prayed for me. The way we said “I love you.” The way we covered each other in words and spirit—it reminded me of something simple but profound:
We are all a gift to each other for a short time on this earth.
So spend the time.
Show the love.
Be a blessing.
Give thanks for the people God placed in your life—while you still can.
This beautiful moment came right after finishing my 7 nights (7 PM – 7 AM). To lay in bed and just be present with my mom… that is wealth.
Now… time to get up and be productive.
Have a beautiful day, y’all ❤️
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