This extraordinarily amazing woman of Ejigbo community

 A life quite interesting

There is one person I do not sing enough praises of, a kind of strangeness and then familiarity that seems to escape the purview of acknowledgement of humanity, service, motherhood, tenacity and all-round extraordinary. A prophet that is somewhat without honour in their own land.

There are stories we have heard that could be hair-raising, a childhood that seem to offer opportunity but was suffused with such guardian cruelty, yet against such no malice is borne. I watched how distraught they became when that guardian passed on and the final rites were missed by an hour.

In tribulation triumphant

Dockets of tales in a matrimony that seemed to all perfect whilst it was any but, the witnesses of tension and worse that dotted occasions of détente never so sure to survive a season, the spouse pretending to fidelity rarely not there, but we do believe the best of everyone.

In offspring sometimes affected, tainted, or traumatised by that environment, there remained such support hardly appreciated or understood, a dogged focus on protecting the brood and shaping destinies in ways sometimes unintended, yet fundamentally consequential. Here is a masterful ability quite unheralded.

Exceptionally gifted to lift

A person who has charted courses less travelled to become a symbol of relevance that set them out as one to be chosen to pioneer a project of investing in young lives to build a future. The project was tough and arduous, yet adept with skills to manage and marshal, in the pit of the fire and the cold workface, hands were calloused, and faces blackened with soot, but gems were mined that have appreciated in value year on year.

And this is not a culmination, but a journey that overnight a pilgrimage was embarked on fully sponsored by the former uncut rough diamonds whose horizons were not that clear but were given the prospect of a world beyond their locality. They have in this day become persons of means and influence, extending the hand of their mentor into places of power and significance.

Dams of gratitude bursting walls

They return season after season to that anvil of life where they were forged and moulded into implements of change and the chief blacksmith invited time and again to inspect the workmanship of exquisite and priceless provenance wrought in that forge. The power of gratitude flows like brooks into streams, into rivers, into seas and waters that lap lands all over the world.

It is in this that our person is celebrated; Mrs A. J. Akintayo, daughter, lady, woman, teacher, wife, mother, administrator, principal, businesswoman, prophetess, leader, fighter, voice, pilgrim and this list is hardly exhaustive. I salute you, enjoy your trip of a lifetime and there are more to come. You shine and we are exceedingly proud of you.

With the Class of '85 of the then Ejigbo Community High School on the 27th of July 2021
You can laugh this well if you have made lives so good. My mother is in the middle.

The presentation made by the Class of '85
to my mother as the pioneer principal of the then
Ejigbo Community High School that was founded in 1977. 

Childhood: Yikes! A snake visiting boarding school

Preserved for posterity

That night, there was much clamour as much of the boys' hostel emptied to chase after what then happened to be a yellowish tanned snake with a white belly - as I can recall - Poisonous snakes of Africa and Asia.

It measured about 2 metres and it was eventually preserved in formaldehyde in a large jar and put on display in the biology laboratory where specimens of other once wild and dangerous but now dead animals were racked on shelves to fill anyone with dread and fear.

Our biology teacher was a Canadian, much unlike other teachers, young, agile and rode a motorcycle, generally friendly and never menacingly cruel nor wielding a cane as the other sociopaths masquerading as teachers that our parents entrusted our care and education to.

Named for discipline

The aftermath of that night would have been grave for some, the commotion at close to midnight when lights were supposed to be out had roused the principal, a matriarch with omnipresence and omniscience that saw through you with a gaze that made you dissolve into nothingness in her presence; strict and motherly, Mrs Adebambo defined the regime of a tight ship.

She called out the sleepers; the spies and the eyes of the authorities, prefects in other words, to gather the names of the noisemakers who had breached every rule of discipline and order, that list almost as long as an arm included the great and the small, we only had to wait until the morning for the verdict which was most likely going to be a suspension rather than interminable hours of bush-clearing.

Bamboo and palm fronds

The grounds of the school were on the edge of a forest and it only had walls on the sides bordered by roads, the forest itself stretched for kilometres, I do not think we were ever sure of where the grounds ended and when we had begun to trespass on the property of neighbouring farmers.

For our annual sports days, each school house; Falode, Mellor, Igimisoje and Adedoyin built huts of a bamboo framework and palm fronds made up the walls and roofs, gathered from the surrounding forests though not too far from the hostel was a bamboo bush, probably decades old, a good few metres wide and a haven for much more than could be imagined.

Fire raiser

I had happened upon a box of matches, exuberant and carefree, as I walked past the bamboo bush, two fingers slid the match box out of its sheath, picked out a match, struck it on the igniter coating and threw it – the fire caught like kindling to tinder and I hurried my steps with the innocence of an idle pedestrian.

As the boys gathered in front of the staff building to receive the verdict of the council who were not aware of the cause of the commotion, the snake was laid lengthwise on the steps at the main entrance of the staff room, mercy came, relief came but why that all happened is only revealed today, I set fire to the habitat of creatures that could have brought a much different story than one told now.

The mischief of almost 35 years ago and that was a typical boarding school day.