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BIOGRAPHY(1 of 5)

The egg yolk sun teased and taunted as it gingerly disappeared into the sea one fateful day in June. The Marina buzzed with colonial bureaucrats in bowler hats and their local counterparts in their imported suits as the day’s business gradually wound down. On the streets of Olówóògbowó, Hausa men lugged wrapped bundles containing handicrafts ranging from carved ebony from the Belgian Congo, to beads from Bida, brass masks from Dahomey, handbags of crocodile skin, and ivory jewelry. Yoruba women, dressed in loose blouses with indigo materials wrapped around them, had their wares balanced on their heads as they chanted practiced advertorials of their accoutrements.

There was an assortment of male artisans of every hue, some repairing bicycles, clocks and watches, others patched shoes and tyres. It was 1951, and the colonial Lagos was burgeoning in every direction. Streets were narrow but pristine. All around Broad Street, people milled around with bottles, trays, folded umbrellas, bowls, baskets and bags balanced on their heads. Colonial era business concerns like Kingsway, U.T.C., C.F.A.O. and G. B. Ollivant, dotted the landscape. Baba Olayiwola Abdulkadir Oladele was a popular motor mechanic who made his livelihood repairing the growing number of automobiles on the streets of Lagos. He was no quack, so he signified his seriousness about what he did by setting up a company which he ambitiously named Iron Mongers Engineering Company.

On this particular day, Baba headed straight home in Olówóògbowó, something which was unusual at the time because he would usually go to the club first. As he got closer home, neigbours came running towards him screaming “ayọ̀, ayọ̀ ab’ara tín tín.” Before Baba Olayiwola could make out what exactly was going on, one of his neigbours blurted out the reason for the uproar: “akọ ni o.” As if on a cue, the small crowd which had now gathered chorused: “a bá’ra yọ̀ọ̀ọ̀.” Then it struck Baba: his heavily pregnant wife, Mama Abegbe, had delivered a bouncing baby boy. In the room where Mama Abegbe was, windows were open, an electric fan hung from the ceiling. The floor had been hurriedly polished and a damp, moldy smell rent the air. The little baby was nestled on the bosom of the young mother as his father stepped into the room. On Baba’s face was etched an ear-to-ear grin. That day was Monday the 25th of June, 1951. The little baby would later be named Afolabi Oyedeji Rasaq Oladele. As life progressed in the Oladele household, Mama Abegbe was followed by other wives, little Afolabi was followed by many more children, and the household soon became a quiver full of many sprightly arrows.

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