By Toyin Falola
Osogbo, December 14: ỌJỌ́ AYỌ̀. I was there with four eyes: two eyes for me and two for my wife. As we gathered outside, not knowing what was inside the hall, I uttered some incantations:
Afolayan on the 7th Floor
From the depths of the village where wisdom runs deep,
To the heights of the world where dreamers leap.
Afolayan, a name to revere,
Afi-ola-yan, with brilliance weaved year by year.
Once a boy of the soil where yams grow tall,
He learned the rhythm of life from the village call.
His strong and wise mothers being instructors,
Taught lessons in fair play that light his skies still.
The wisdom of elder tales sank into him.
Learning that life was something more than a chore,
From step to step, grace to grace,
He saw the power of women in their rightful place.
Armed with knowledge, both native and learned,
Through books and life, his passion burned.
“Fifty Children That Played Together” still rings,
A story of friendship and the joy it brings.
Scholar, mentor, shining light,
With words for a sword, he fights the good fight.
From Yorùbá traditions down to academic flair,
He carries his culture wherever he goes.
He took his influence into America’s halls, where futures are fed.
A builder of bridges, a giver of dreams,
His life is one grand melody of purposeful themes.
With humour and charm, he delights around the globe,
Yet he’s never forgotten his village sight.
His heart as wide, his spirit as kind,
A professor of people, cultures, and minds.
So here’s to Oladejo on this grand seventieth year,
From village roots to holding a world in his hand,
Let laughter and joy characterize the golden years,
For you have given the world so much to cheer.
Happy Birthday, Michael; more on earth than the rock of ages,
With humour and wisdom, never to tire.
The doors opened: Owambe de!
The thought of soft-made Amala, laced with Ewedu and bordered around with “round-about,” “Abo-Idi,” “Fuku,” “Bokoto,” and other kinds of “Assorted,” would leave you anticipating a Yoruba Owanbe. Well, this is just one thing of the many glamours that come with parties, the stages, the colours, royalties, music, dance, and many things you can not mention. This is an African party, a Yoruba party, to be precise. However, the dynamics of the Afolayans’ party is that it had a different ingredient: intellectualism.
Trust my people; they will not let you eat before you pray. The time to cook the food and the time to pray is the same. Try this. Put water on the stove, add the rice, and see whether the food is not ready before you complete my favourite psalm for occasions like this:
“Lord, you have been our dwelling place throughout all generations.
Before the mountains were born or you brought forth the whole world, from everlasting to everlasting you are God.
You turn people back to dust, saying, ‘Return to dust, you mortals.’ A thousand years in your sight are like a day that has just gone by, or like a watch in the night.
Yet you sweep people away in the sleep of death – they are like the new grass of the morning: In the morning it springs up new, but by evening it is dry and withered.
We are consumed by your anger and terrified by your indignation.
You have set our iniquities before you, our secret sins in the light of your presence.
All our days pass away under your wrath; we finish our years with a moan. Our days may come to seventy years, or eighty, if our strength endures; yet the best of them are but trouble and sorrow, for they quickly pass, and we fly away. If only we knew the power of your anger!
Your wrath is as great as the fear that is your due.
Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom.
Relent, Lord! How long will it be? Have compassion for your servants.
Satisfy us in the morning with your unfailing love, that we may sing for joy and be glad all our days.
Make us glad for as many days as you have afflicted us, for as many years as we have seen trouble.
May your deeds be shown to your servants, and may your splendour be shown to their children.
May the favour of the Lord our God rest on us; establish the work of our hands for us – yes, establish the work of our hands.
Psalms 90:1-17 NIVUK
I did not write the frightening part!
The focal point of African music transcends mere celebration and jollying, but a kaleidoscope of community, energy and culture is nuanced by “ariya.” It is often the restatement of the African subscription to the principles of communism and collectivism. It is where everyone must eat, be entertained, and partake in the celebrations. However, an African party comes with much planning, stage setting and rightful designs that fit the occasion.
At the Afolayans’ birthday party, this organisational particularity manifested itself, as shown below.
Aside from the organisation, the location of the party also plays a vital role in the enjoyment of all that the party can offer. Often, parties away from commercial hubs and those that would make people hit the road bring remarkable memories. The city of Osogbo was in favour of the Afolayans, and it felt like it celebrated with them, although in the height of Harmattan, the tranquillity and serenity were homely.
To the terrains of the great Osogbo City,
Where the heavens kiss the earth,
To pour immaculate environmental bliss,
Came the guests of elegance,
Adorned with colourful Aso Ofi, and Adire,
And all sorts of fabrics my Mama taught me.
All paths led to Agbala Afolayan,
Where the depth of culture met the cores of intellectualism
The stage, the tables, the cake, and the life
Blends of books, royalty, and splendour.
Let all minstrels sing of Afolayan’s tales
Let all akewi pick their flutes
For he has called the apeje
And the ojogbons have arrived so elegantly
The most important part of the event is that it is made to reflect both the African culture that Professor Afolayan cherishes and the academic scenery. The creative iconography to enact this was impressive as books were created as stage backgrounds, the tables were designed with books, and the cake was made of book design.
Is there a Nigerian owanbe without sartorial splendour of bends of colours, regal regalia, and elegant styles modelling culture, contemporariness and impeccable brilliance? The Afolayans’ party was close to a cultural fashion display. You can trust that my wife and I will always be ready for the occasion.
As expected, the Ojogbon’s owanbe would not be complete without the display and share of intellectualism. We saw that displayed in the aesthetic of the party but much more in the conversations at the party. So, as we wined and dined – we shared ideas.
Attending the birthday party of the Afolayans is one of the highlights of this year for me. The hospitality is outstanding, the grandeur of the event, the quality of designs, and the kinds of guests at the event leave immaculate memories for a long time. Once again, I congratulate the family on the celebration and the family for an enjoyable time.
Aluwakbar. No alcohol! We don’t drink in Mecca and Medina!
مبروك عيد ميلادك السبعين، وعقبال مئة سنة في صحة وعافية وسعادة!
Mabrouk ‘eid miladak al-sabe’een, wa ‘uqbal mi’a sana fi sihha wa ‘afiya wa sa’ada!
Translation for Mama ‘Jo, Precious Afolayan:
Congratulations on your 70th birthday, and may you have many more years of health, well-being, and happiness!
Ayo, check the videos and photos: There was no food for Table 12! Whose Table? I will eat my portion when Daddy turns 80!
Ọdọọdún ni ṣákó ń rúwé
Ọdọọdún ni erùwà ń wà
Ọdọọdún ni àgbàdo ń yọ irùkẹ̀rẹ̀ l’óko
Afolayan
Ọdọọdún ni ẹ ọ́ ma bẹ
Ẹ ti lékún ọdún yií ná
Ẹ lékún ní ọdún yií ná
Ẹ ó lékún ní ẹ̀ẹ́mì t’wó t’ọmọ
T’àìkú t’àìkú tií pari ìjà l’Ọ́fà
Kokoko l’ara ọta lẹ
Kokoko l’ara yin yóò maa lẹ
Àjínde ara yóò maa jẹ́
Ẹ̀yí tí mo wí yìí, arọ̀ á rọ̀ mọ
L’áṣẹ Edùmàrè!
Beautiful