- Wole Adejumo
“Iku, oponu olosi ab’ara dudu hoho
Ko mo ju ko ma ju won l’ogo kiri
Oju pon koko gbogbo ara re nd’eru baa 'yan”
(Death, a stupid black bodied being
He knows only to strike people with his club
With his fiery red eyes and scary appearance)
Such were the expletives poured on death by famed Apala musician, “Eegun Mogaji” Alhaji Waidi Ayinla Omowura. Decades after the song though, Ayinla himself lies in his grave, a victim of death, the stupid being he never hid his disdain for.
Thursday 20th October started rather slowly for me but things eventually picked. I had gone to honour a date in court after which I went for an appointment at Sasa. In the course of the discussion in Sasa, I stole a view at my BBM. When I saw the broadcast from Seun Oloketuyi, I thought it was one of his usual broadcasts in which his followers exchanged insults in the name of backing up their arguments, alas, what I read was “City People loses Bola Davies, Deputy Editor after a brief illness”.
My visage changed. I took excuse to make a call and when Dare Adeniran responded from the other end, his voice sounded low; I knew the worst had happened. I wasn't myself till the meeting ended.
The last time we spoke was earlier in the year when she learnt of my arrest. In her usual manner, she took an analytical view of the situation and made recommendations. “If those ones don’t work, maybe I’ll speak to the Governor to intervene”, she assured.
The last time we went out together was shortly before the 2015 elections when one of the candidates shopped for media consultants.
Since 2003 when I knew her, she metamorphosed from being my boss into a sister, an adviser and a mentor. She provided the basic training I needed as a journalist. When I got to City People, the first advice she gave to me went a long way to help my career. Though my first story “made cover”, she congratulated me and the next moment, she said “don’t be in a hurry to write. Go and digest past editions of City People, that will enable you understand City People’s style of writing”.
By December 2003, I was one of those who took home the prestigious “Staff of The Year Prize”.
One other thing I learnt from her was teamwork. In Ibadan office, it was “all for one and one for all”. If anyone was in trouble, we were all in trouble and if one was doing well, it was for the good of all.
Dare and I were at the receiving end of Sister Bola’s generosity. She could give anything.
One day, I overheard the Publisher, Mr. Seye Kehinde telling one of the General Managers in the office that “one thing he likes about Wole is that his writing is usually almost error free”. The GM however answered that “if he hears it might get into his head and affect him”. Not many people know that I owe that to God Almighty and Bola Davies. Thanks to those days we would close from work and I would follow her home because we had stories that must be done before the Thursday deadline for outside station correspondents. Her house was an extension of the office. Sometimes we would write all night. Only God knows how many pages of A4 paper that went into each story. I would first do a sketch, outline what to write after which I would “rewrite” before submitting to her. I did that till it became a habit. While I thought it was a hard way to be trained, I can say I am enjoying the benefits today. I have since found her statement "journalism is a thankless profession" to be true.
I thought I was patient but working with Bola Davies would later teach me patience. She would get annoyed and tell you off to your face. But you can be sure if she doesn’t hear from you the next day or two, she would call your phone and ask “what is your problem?” As I grew to understand her, our fights became less frequent. At times, her younger brothers, Omololu and Biola would ask, ‘Wole, how do you manage that you and Sister Bola hardly quarrel?”
She never believed anything was impossible. I would shudder at times when she decides we should take some risks. From Ibadan to Osogbo, Akure and other places; she taught me to work and be ready to “move at very short notice”.
Bola Davies the bridge builder would always find people you should meet. When I was transferred to cover Ondo/Ekiti, she provided all the links I would ever need. That was when she would say “Wole is my landlord” and I would respond that “you are my landlady in Akure”. Truly she was! “Why not go to our house in Alafiatayo? Instead of paying to sleep in a hotel, they will give you a room to stay”, she assured me. In no time, I became a part of the Ogunsuyi family and at times it was difficult for outsiders to tell me apart from her brothers.
On a certain day, I was out till very late and as I approached the house, one of the night guards on the street stopped me some houses away from No 25 and asked where I was going. When I told him I lived in Baba Ogunsuyi’s house, he took a closer look at me and said “ah! Aburo Douglas. Iwo o ki ngbele” (Douglas’ younger brother, you don’t live in this town). The guy walked with me to the gate and made sure I got in safely.
Her generosity will ever continue to baffle me. She gave me the first TV I ever owned; a Sony Black Triniton. Back then, I remember she was paying tuition for some pupils whose parents had financial challenges.
That she was my mentor in City People was an open secret. We went through good and not so good moments. One of such was the period my stories were not being published. I would ask ‘Sister, what am I doing wrong?’ At a point, I told her and Dare I suspected the existence of a Mafia in City People.
Sister Bola, Dare and I had a term, “cash and carry”. We used it whenever someone had too many stories and was unable to meet the deadline. Such a person could make an offer; you write the story and get paid; sometimes upfront.
Yet another was when we published a story that was probably not found favourable in Molete years back. I was about entering the office when I noticed some strange looking guys with a number of them clutching poly bags. I simply walked past and took the next corner. I called friends who had offices in Damon Plaza and they confirmed they had come to ask after some City People staff. I went straight to Sister Bola's place and called Dare over the phone not to make the mistake of going to the office. For weeks, we couldn't operate from the office and things remained so till the issue was resolved.
Another was the December 2007 query following my refusal to attend the end of the year activities. Sister Bola wondered why it took me four foolscap pages to answer a query. We were both summoned to explain to the Management. On the D Day, as we walked from Bolumole to Challenge, I told her, “I have a feeling my time is up here. If it isn’t, it might just be the beginning of the end”. When I told her what was on my mind and what I planned to tell members of the panel, she advised against it.
We eventually got to the office earlier than everyone except the Publisher. With the look on his face, I knew the worst could happen. I further prepared my mind. Oga too in his typical manner opened the door for negotiation by asking “why have you guys done this to me? I have never been this humiliated. Everybody in the office has accused me of indulging the Ibadan office to the point of …”, before he finished, Sister Bola was on her knees, taking responsibility and apologizing on behalf of both of us. “It’s okay", the Publisher said. Of course, we faced the panel but things weren't as bad as we envisaged.
On our way back to Ibadan, I again told her, “I still think this is the beginning of the end’.
When I turned in my resignation, it was without her knowledge. Not even Dare, my closest buddy in the office knew. Sister Bola called me to her house and we had a long discussion on what led to it and why I shouldn’t take any hasty decision.
I respect Bola Davies for a number of things, including the fact that as she could go the extra mile to look good, she usually went the extra mile to work. She gave her work everything she had. Her advice continues to ring in my head, “do your work in a such a way it cannot be rubbished. If they cannot rubbish your work, they cannot rubbish you”.
My sister has finished her race, she no longer feels the pains we feel on this part of eternity. We are the ones remaining. Let's simply ask ourselves, how do we want to end the race? The best way, in my opinion is to live ready... Be ready to meet your Creator. No one knows who is next.
Fare thee well my sister, omo oba Bola omo Ogunsuyi, omo Olu Alayire.
* My thoughts are with Mummy and all members of the family, Management and staff, City People Media Group. The Lord comfort us all.
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