The death on Saturday April 6, 2013 of former Ekiti State Deputy Governor, Funmilayo Olayinka, was such that struck with a devastatingly tremulous blow.
Today, 11 odd years since the tragic occurrence, the sad memory simply refuses to let go in its overweening grip of pathos.
It couldn’t indeed, have been less so when you consider her amazonic exploits in the trenches, at those momentous period of gladiatorial contestation for possession of the political soul of Ekiti State, during the turbulent gubernatorial battle for political hegemony of that pivotal geo-political bastion of education.
And as mother luck smiled both on her and her substantive gubernatorial boss, Kayode Fayemi – with victory in the kitty – one would have projected without fear of contradiction, a glorious world of limitless possibilities latent in her future – unfortunately, death unleashed its grotesque fang in a stealthy fit of sadistic humour, to rail-road her with an inscrutable magisterial sadism, to the world beyond.
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Permit me to emphasise at this point that the passage of this departed gem was for me a personal blow. I knew the ex-Deputy Governor of Ekitiland, 52 years ago, precisely in 1972, through Otunba Reuben Famuyibo, an intimate boyhood friend of mine, who was then a student of Ibadan Boys High School, along with Taiwo Obe, a veteran journalist, with whom we all grew together. Dele Agakemah, a junior, now of blessed memory, also attended the same school.
Famuyibo, Ado-Ekiti born politician, who later won the presidential primaries under Option A4, in the old Ondo State, a nominated member of the Constituent Assembly, during the Abacha era, and also a member of the committee on Devolution and later Chairman and CEO of FSTV, the first indigenous Pay TV in Nigeria and West Africa – was a cousin of Funmi. That particular point in time, the ex Deputy Governor of blessed memory, was often referred to in full-stretch pronouncement as Funmilayo as against the later day vogue of a simple shortened Funmi. I remember as if it were just yesterday that anytime that Reuben and I visited the Famuwagun family house of Funmi, she would often be found weaving a set of fine-colour thread then often referenced in popular local lingo as Muffler.
Reuben and I lived within the U.M.C. area in Ibadan, while Funmi’s family house located just behind the Ogunpa river, also in the same Oke-Ado area, was just a shouting distance from our area in U.M.C. I knew not only her parents, but virtually all her siblings, because we used to frequent their residence, at least thrice a week, in those days.
Looking back at that time, Funmi struck you as a precious young girl, with a stature which at that time belied her age. She was pretty, charming, buxomly, physically well endowed, and intelligent too.
That time in question, she was within the lower form bracket – Form One – I suppose as a student of the Holy Trinity Grammar School, Ibadan. Going down the memory lane, I remember way back in 1975, April 6, to be specific. That day was my birthday, which I celebrated with a modest funfair, with a good number of our friends in attendance in our modest room and parlour apartment upstairs.
I remember as if it were yesterday that Funmi, failing to factor the African time syndrome into consideration, had turned up at the party – mistakenly swallowing the time notice we furnished her, hook, line and sinker. Thus, she arrived at the scene of the party at our UMC residence in the Oke-Ado area to meet not a single soul, except Reuben, his cousin, friend of mine, and I, the celebrant.
She waited with dignified patience and composure till others started coming and before you knew it, the scenario soon turned into a full house. The party was rocked till the dead of night, after which Reuben and I personally accompanied her home.
Two other occasions that readily occur in memory was also some time in the same decade of the 70’s, when his elder brother, Segun Famuwagun, now an Ekiti High Chief, I learnt, arrived from the United States of America, having bagged a Masters in Public Administration, which probably informed Funmi’s choice of Public Admin in which she graduated on her academic sojourn in those days in America
The welcome gig organised for Broda Segun was such that turned out to be a fairly groovy stuff, which we rocked till the late night at the Oke-Ado residence of the Famuwaguns (Funmi’s Parents) – with our friends around the neighbourhood, forming the nucleus of guests.
Another one in reference was the get-together party organised to mark Famuyibo’s birthday in July 1978, while doing a temporary holiday job at Federal Fisheries, Ibadan, Oyo State, barely a month after he had completed his A/level studies at Federal School of Arts and Science, Ondo, which of course Funmi also attended that night.
Needless to emphasise on a lighter note that on those occasions, I had a good number of dances with Funmi. Who of course, could have ignored such a beautiful buxomly gem?She was simply irresistible.
I also remember that my last visit to the Famuwaguns, Funmi’s parents, was in connection with a party organised by Funmi’s junior female siblings sometime in December 1979. By the time in question, Funmi’s parents, the Famuwaguns, had relocated from their former residence near the Ogunpa river to the Odutola area, not so far away. The same Reuben Famuyibo, my very close friend, who was Funmi’s cousin, also happened to be the principal organiser of the party, though I couldn’t remember Funmi herself being at the party.
Dating back from 1978 or 1979, I was neither to see Funmi, nor even hear about her until the heat of litigation involving her gubernatorial mate, Kayode Fayemi and her, on one hand and Engr. Segun Oni, the then incumbent governor, on the other hand. In fact, at the time it dawned on me that the Funmi Olayinka who was usually at reference in the newspapers was the same Funmi Famuwagun, I grew together with in Ibadan, in those good old era of the 70s – the awareness was such that jolted me into a bewilderingly pleasant surprise, as I pondered deep within me – that Funmi had indeed come a long way, from the ordinary young girl in the neighbourhood in those nostalgic era – now contending for the pivotal number two position in Ekiti State – the renowned geopolitical bastion of education.
At that point in time, my respect for her soared as I ruminated within me, those factors which over the years might have converged towards the evolution of her mind to such a higher ideal of political activism. Needless to stress that at this point, my spirit had spontaneously reached out in empathic identification with her; in earnest prayer of triumph, in the turbulent gladiatorial litigation then rocking the politico-legal landscape of the state.
The very day the election tribunal sealed the gubernatorial contest in their favour, I could simply not help but see in myself the happiest person on earth. To be sure, the victory was for me, something of a shared personal success.
Indeed ever since then, anytime I saw or read her in the newspaper, I never hesitated in telling anyone near me that this lady and I grew up together in the same neighbourhood in Ibadan in the very early 1970s. I never particularly failed to emphasise that she attended my birthday, some years back, on April 6, 1975 in Ibadan, at our U.M.C. residence on that occasion of which his cousin, Reuben Famuyibo, was the Chief Organiser of my birthday bash.
Thirty-eight years later, on the same specific April 6, death came on the beguiling wing of cancer to snatch this unique gem of God’s glory on a sadistic humour in numerological game play – dashing my much cherished hope of ever beholding again, the wonderful sight of this rare pearl of an amazon and her delectable auric persona-after a gaping space spanning close to four decades of loss of contact since our growing up years in the Oke-Ado area of Ibadan, in those nostalgic era of the 1970’s. Those treasured years of fond and evergreen memories. May her great soul continue to rest in peace.
. Johnson is a writer and journalist.