My biography is incomplete without Mama Felicia Jolaade Fakinlede, an older sister to my mother. I was brought to leave with Mama by her daughter, Auntie Womiloju Elizabeth Fakinlede, at a very tender age, but for sure, before I was 4 years of age. I grew up to become part of the household of the Fakinledes’, and my school life began with Fakinlede attached to my name unconsciously. Whoever my father was and my roots remained a mystery to me until after the death of Auntie Womiloju Elizabeth Fakinlede in 1971. My mother was always around, but this never changed anything. The woman I spent the greater part of my life with, Mama Felicia Joolade Fakinlede, significantly remained my mother. This decision did not take me a long time to realize.
My primary education was swift, with the provision of my primary school needs promptly provided by Mama, just like my cousin, Sola. Growing up with brother Coli, Sola, and Abegbe could be recalled, but not so with brother Olubodun because he was not always around. At a point, I wondered about his whereabouts. I later realized he was schooling in a country” called Lagos.” Lagos at that time looked like a separate country with its own uniqueness.
Taking the next step into secondary school obviously opened my eyes further with all the provisions needed to study. In 1973, I gained admission to Iju-Itaogbolu Grammer School to study. With a copy of the lists of items to procure for my boarding house, Mama led me to the Erekesan market with money in her pocket to buy everything needed for my boarding house. She pointed out my biological father’s shop location to me at an adjoining building in the market. My dad collected the lists and brought out the items one after the other. I made the payments and waved my father goodbye.
Meanwhile, Mama was hanging somewhere around the big market. I delivered my newly acquired equipment and the remaining change to Mama. Together, Mama and I headed back to my biological father’s shop. Mama asked him if he could identify me. And he answered positively.
Mama told him his son gained admission to the boarding house and showed him the lists of what to buy for the second time. Mama collected the lists from him, and we headed home. Baba wished me well, but the money paid for these purchases was never returned to either Mama or me. This was my real first encounter with my biological father. He passed away in 1986, and as the news was announced to me, my lacrimal gland burst.
For five years, brother Olu and Mama took up this significant role in my life unexpectedly. I remained in the boarding house all through and mixed with the sons and daughters of the rich and poor. To date, this has remained a landmark in my life.
Mama was one of the great entrepreneurs of her time; she remains the epitome of blessing among her older and younger siblings. She was always a point of reference for everyone. Before a business goes down, Mama already has her sight on another. There was never a time when she was on a single job because of her responsibilities. This trend was not significant to me until later in life.
Her cooking and selling food to workers at PWD (now the Ministry of Works) was my first encounter with her vast businesses. Waking up early in the morning with Mama, Sola, and young Abegbe for daily cooking was a tedious job.
We followed this routine daily so that we knew the names of the workers off-hand because the majority of them bought food at credit facilities. To track them, we had to keep records of their names. On about two occasions, thieves broke into our shop, and Mama’s pot of soup with bush meat and egusi was always their target.
Towards the end of 1978, after my 5 years of secondary school at Iju-Itaogbolu, Mama again called me aside and told me I would be going to Maiduguri with my brother Olubodun. I gladly accepted, and that would serve as my shortcut from Akure, my birth city, until today. A shortcut from Mama, who shaped my life into who I am today. I doubt if I have spent 100 days altogether in Akure since then until Mama passed on September 14, 2023.
While growing, several of Mama’s laws were obviously broken. Each offence carried its own punishment. Specially kept on the roof top of our buka were canes. I could not differentiate which cane carried more pain again. Could it be the dry or fresh ones? That was our punishment. I received cane beaten to the point where I never cared about which one gave me the most pain, but my sister Sola was the gentle type. She received less beatings, unlike me!
About four months ago, I sent a message to my brother Olubodun, expressing my intent to be home soon to see him and Mama. My last visit was in 2016 while coming back from Dr. (Mrs.) Charity Fakinlede’s burial in Ugheli. I never succeeded until Mama’s demise was announced days ago. Mama left an indelible mark on us all; she literarily sacrificed her life for us all. I miss you, Mama.!!!
Ojo Akinolawumi Alaba