Iya Banji

From whence we came

The kind of life my parents served me created a radically different history and story from the one they had experienced. More fundamentally, what defined their childhood from the little village where they made their first friends to the unforgettable memories that they have rarely shared separates us even further.

Though I have some fond memories of visiting our hometown and meeting with cousins, grandparents, and distant relations, I find none of the affinity for the place as one parent does, and another so thoroughly reviles. I have no such identity with the place except in the compulsion and diktat of my forebears; I was last there about forty years ago.

Significantly, these people who once came out of that town and travelled the world as it was their oyster and, in the process, became successful professionals of every sort, have returned to this place to retire enjoying the good fortune of old age and the misery of watching peers and juniors pass away around them.

Balls on the road

One memory best told in our dialect of Ìjẹ̀bú, in which I have the most laughable proficiency, if any at all, finds its best delivery in my faulting but unmistakable recollection.

My mother was driving from Lagos to Ijesha-Ijebu with my aunt, who was my dad’s immediate younger sibling. She was known to us through the name of her first son, and it was evidently disrespectful of us all, because he is the first and eldest of all our maternal and paternal cousins.

As we passed from Ikenne towards Ilishan, on the home straight to Ijesha-Ijebu, the spare tyre in the undercarriage at the back of the Peugeot 504 she was driving detached and fell onto the road. Someone called in Ìjẹ̀bú that the testicles had fallen. “Wóró ẹ̀ ti jábọ́ o.”

We stopped and I went to pick up the tyre, rolled it up to the car and fixed it back to the undercarriage, securing it properly with the clip. My mum and aunt were out of the car, watching that everything was done properly. As I finished, my aunt quipped in Ìjẹ̀bú, “Well, the person of whom it has been said their testicles have fallen, now has them tied back up in the sack.” “Ọni rán fọ wóró ẹ̀ jábọ́, nà tí so padà yẹ̀n.”

In tribute and sympathy

This remains one of the lasting memories of my aunt, her great sense of humour delivered dead pan with such seriousness, yet you could not fail to get the joke, which by happenstance was also the spelling of her name, meaning who we care for together, she was no joke, by any stretch of the imagination.

A hardworking, strong, purposeful woman and a purveyor of wholesale foodstuffs, she was kind-hearted, lovely, approachable, and ever so considerate. Definitely, one of the best of my father’s siblings. She was the female leader of the Muslims of our hometown.

I learnt Monday afternoon that she had passed on, and she was interred according to Islamic rites on Sunday. Better to rewrite the feelings expressed here, unfortunate as it seems, each person has their individual issues and perspective of things, that might never be that well understood.

Inna lillahi wa inna ilayhi raji'un. (Al-Quran 2:156) “Indeed, to Allah we belong and to Allah we shall return.”

Thought Picnic: Our patriarch at 82

Trying to be good

Today brought a rush of emotions that caught me between a sense of duty and one of common humanity with decency. More promising for me was that I am persuadable even as some would consider me rather obstinate to the point of being quite obstreperous.

It is not my nature, I just seek a place where I am not under mental stress or strain, avoidable situations are just that, avoidable except for extenuating circumstances demanding some different action.

An occasion to speak

Today, the Patriarch of the Akintayo family, my father clocked 82 and that comes with some challenges presented by age and circumstance, that I find myself thinking the blessing of old age comes with its share of misery as you watch people you once knew become persons of the past in their passing.

Then there something else that appears to engage too strongly, that which time does not seem to heal, relationships founded on conflict and friction, issues unresolved but allowed to fester. You are asked to let bygones be bygones unaddressed, if only it were that simple.

The prayers of expiation?

Yet, someone can whisper in your ear and advise gently that you review a situation. Whether it is serendipity or propinquity, you are soon in conversation with the stress easing away for some gladness if for a moment from both sides, the satisfaction that maybe there is a higher cause that can give all a new lease, for time is not on our sides as it once was.

To my dad, a very happy birthday, the renewal of strength, the comfort of knowing that he is loved daily even through the difficult issues and the best times of long life without sorrow. Sometimes, I think the prayers of old parents are at one time deep and moving and then maybe in expiation of the things they did long ago that their children find hard to forgive and forget. God bless you, dad.

70 - A man of integrity planted like a tree of life

Enduring symbols of life

Planted in a courtyard not too far from my maternal grandmother’s old house is a tree whose sapling roots were buried in earth as a commemoration of the day a nephew was born.

That tree is 70 today; there are many ways in which I tried to chicken out of the celebrations and others where I have earnestly desired to be part of those celebrations, but for unforeseen and other circumstances one observes from afar.

A man of men

A man of great intellect but most importantly of integrity upon to whom one would look and be caught up in respect and reverence, so worthy of emulation.

The achievements are many, qualified as an accountant winning many prizes 40 years ago, pioneered as the indigenous professional in many companies proving demonstratively claims to effectively leadership and sterling expertise as the pall of colonial leadership was removed.

His grandmother was a particular driving force in his career and character development, she gave up much to ensure he could attend school and reach a point he also learnt the importance of good education and necessary qualifications.

She lived long to see him successful and excel amongst his peers.

A light in the community

One can dwell on his personal achievements but this man is a leader, an innovator, an inspiration, a mentor in some many ways, I hear of the many he encouraged, helped and pushed to the successes they all have today, this man enjoys making others successful.

He has a no-nonsense approach to issues and is hardly ever taken by sentimentality when objectivity was the better though difficult course of action.

He was squarely in the middle of all developments in our village of Ijesha-Ijebu in Ogun State and that is an entirely different place from Ijebu-Ijesha in another state.

The electrification project, the building of the cathedral, the schools improvement programme as well as the secondary school against the negative forces of darkness had their coordination and ultimate consummation through him.

He has served the church diligently with his professional skills and sat on boards of seminaries for which he is also being honoured today.

Enviable virtues to emulate

Too many things to mention but when he was offered the high chieftaincy title of the right-hand of the king, of all his peers, he was probably the most deserving of it by reason of his selfless duty and leadership.

As a man, he has the most desirable virtues, honesty, trustworthiness, integrity and principle; he is incorruptible, unflappable, meticulous and wise.

If you engage him in conversation, as I love to, it is refreshing with good analysis and a very keen memory, then humour, you wonder how one could have differences with him, but such happens.

A commendation

This is hardly a tribute as one would dearly love to write in more flowing prose, I used to be enamoured by his command of English; now, in nuanced or direct speech we get along so well.

I do not remember too many playful times of, but given the opportunity today, I would play, laugh, hug and even dare to say, I love you dearly. And I really do. One cannot wish for a better forebear.

By character, by example, by conduct, by responsibility, by achievement and by recognition, here is a man of great integrity that I honour, respect, acknowledge and revere.

I commend to you, that nephew, my father and dad, he is 70 today. Happy Birthday! Daddy.