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Reader Review of Ada – The First Daughter by Temilade Alokan “I just read Ada – The First Daughter, and it is a beautiful piece of writing, richly embodied in God’s nature and inspiration. SUMMARY Ada tells the story of a young woman who carries the weight and burdens of her loved ones on her shoulders, often neglecting herself in the process. In her quest to find peace, she resorts to solitude — unwilling to accept love and unable to connect freely with the few people in her corner. Her journey is one of pain, healing, and rediscovering what it truly means to live in obedience to God. ANALYSIS The character development, plot, style, tone, themes, and message were delivered articulately. I especially love the spiritual aspect of the book. Each episode ends with a prayer point, reminding us that our help comes from the Lord. ✨ One powerful lesson I took from this book is: “Sometimes obedience to God means disappointing others.” I recommend this book to: 1️⃣ Those overwhelmed by family r...

Reader review of Ada (The First Daughter) As a first daughter, reading this book felt like looking into a mirror. Every page of Temilade Alokan’s ADA (The First Daughter) carried pieces of my own journey silent sacrifices, unspoken tears, unacknowledged responsibilities, and yet, the undying hope that somehow, God will make a way. One chapter that struck me the most was Episode 3, Midnight Tears. Ada’s quiet prayer in the dark, muffling her sobs so no one would hear, pierced my heart. I saw myself in those words, how often first daughters pour out strength in the daytime but wrestle with heavy burdens at night. Temilade captured that reality with such honesty that I couldn’t hold back my tears. This book is not just fiction, it is every first daughter’s hidden story. It validates our struggles while reminding us that we are not forgotten, that God still sees, still remembers, and still answers. To every first daughter, this is a healing balm. To every parent, it is an awakening. To me,...

SERIES 11: WHISPERED PRAYERS #TheUnseenStruggle They see my strength. They hear my laughter. But they don’t hear the prayers I bury in the dark. The kind that never make it into conversation. The kind I whisper when everyone is asleep, when the only sound is the clock ticking and my heartbeat begging God to hear me. I’ve prayed for a door to open. I’ve prayed for a “yes” to finally break the silence. I’ve prayed for a miracle I can’t explain to anyone. And still, the quiet lingers. I serve while waiting. I keep showing up. I keep carrying others. I smile while wondering if I’m forgotten. I clap for others while whispering, “When will it be my turn?” It’s not that I’ve lost faith. It’s just… some prayers grow old in my hands. Some words get repeated so many times, they start to feel like part of your breathing. And in that breathing, the ache continues. Some nights, I want to stop asking. Some nights, my voice trembles. I want to stop knocking on a door that doesn’t open. But hope or m...

 SERIES 10: CHOOSING MYSELF #TheUnseenStruggle They say, “You deserve to rest.” But the moment I try… guilt creeps in. Because for so long, my worth has been tied to what I give. I get praised when I’m working. They call me amazing when I’m pouring out. But the moment I choose me? It feels like betrayal. Like I’m leaving someone behind. Like I’m selfish for even thinking about my own needs first. I’ve been the dependable one. The one who shows up. The one who rearranges her life to fit everyone else’s emergencies. So when I say no, the silence feels heavy. I feel like I’m letting someone down. I cancel my plans for theirs. I stretch myself thin to help them. Because for so long, I’ve been wired to think my worth is measured by how much I give. That my duty is to always be available. That good daughters sacrifice without question. But what about me? What about the girl whose soul is tired? What about the woman who’s been running on empty for years? When I finally do something for my...

SERIES 9: EMOTIONAL NUMBNESS #TheUnseenStruggle Why do I always look calm? But calm isn’t always peace, Sometimes, it’s just shutdown. I didn’t choose to be numb. It happened over time. Just like that: Each ignored feeling, Each buried pain, Each moment I told myself, “Just survive.” I laugh, but it never reaches my chest. I celebrate, but it feels distant. I comfort others, but I can’t feel anything for myself. I wasn’t always like this. But emotions started to feel like a luxury I couldn’t afford. If I pause to feel it all, It would drown me. So I just exist. It’s not sadness. It’s not peace. It’s that numb space in-between, Where everything feels unclear. People think I’m healed, Because I don’t cry anymore. Because I smile. Because I keep moving. But the truth? I’m not healed, I’m just numb. Being the strong one costs more than we admit. I don’t react like I used to. Not because I’m stronger… But because I’m tired of feeling everything too deeply Only to be left drained again. So n...