Awakening the Voice Within: My Journey at Orators’ Retreat 3.0

Adegbite Moyomade Akanji gbera di de!

That was the call at Orator’s Retreat 3.0 — awakening.

Every morning at the Orators’ Retreat, the sound of a bell echoed through the halls—not just as a signal to rise, but as a call to something deeper. It was a reminder that there’s always something worth waking up to.

Six years ago, I let fear steal my voice. I convinced myself that I had nothing to say, that there was no space for me in the spotlight. I became comfortable in silence, burying the part of me that once longed to speak. But that night at the retreat, something shifted. As I stood among others who had also come to awaken, I finally understood—what’s dead may never die. It only needs the courage to rise again.

The retreat wasn’t just about learning the art of speaking—it was about rediscovering the parts of myself I had buried under self-doubt. Together as a team, we embraced the theme of awakening. We stood side by side, each of us shaking off the weight of fear and stepping into the discomfort of being seen and heard. For me, it was the moment to reclaim my voice.

But it wasn’t all serious reflection—there were moments of pure, unexpected joy too. I couldn’t believe that on the streets of Badagry, we could play Rock-Paper-Scissors and even shadowbox. What a fun experience! It reminded me that growth doesn’t have to be heavy; sometimes, it’s found in the simplest, most playful moments.

Later that night after speaking, I found myself back in the empty hall. I stood in the silence, letting the echoes of the evening settle around me. I had spoken—not just with words, but with presence, with authenticity. And in that moment, I realized something profound: the voice I thought I had lost had never truly died. It had simply been waiting for me to wake up and reclaim it.

True awakening doesn’t require perfection. It requires presence. It requires the willingness to show up, even when fear lingers in the background. As I listened to Titilope Ibrahim speak, I learned that real power isn’t in having the perfect words—it’s in speaking with authenticity. That’s when your voice truly resonates.

So, to you reading this: don’t wait for a perfect moment. Your voice matters. Your story matters. Whatever has been dormant within you isn’t lost—it’s only waiting for you to awaken it. What’s dead may never die. And neither will you.