Celebration for Olubamidele!

 1125 Words for Our Audu!

A proud Egba man through and through — grounded, resilient, warm-hearted, and full of quiet pride. A man standing tall, though he has a brother towering over him in height; he is taller in grace, charisma, loyalty, wisdom, and glory.

The kind of brother who may not always call… but somehow always shows up exactly when it matters most. Shocked was I when he stepped in with Olurotimi at my 55th, sorry scratch that, 50th.

Raise your glass and toast to my brother... who fights me all the time because I query why I have to call him Brother Dele when he is only two years, 2 weeks and 2 days older. I can here a sweetheart saying, lo ra l'oja! I can only echo, f'ona han mi.

Raise your glass and toast to classy Mr. Oluwabamidele TiOluwatope Famuyiwa, soon to be Mayor of MK.

I pray for you egbon mi, God will continue to strengthen you with wisdom, peace, and uncommon favour. Your hands will never lack provision for the people you love. I declare that the sacrifices you make for family and friends will return to you as joy, honour, wellness, wealth and lasting fulfillment. I pray your home remain covered in grace, your path directed by God, your laughter remains contagious and your blessed wife and outstanding children remain channels of happiness. I pray that you will continue to stand tall in dignity, strength, and divine purpose.

I decree that you will be refilled and refueled as you wait upon the Lord. Elohim shall renew your strength and you shall mount up with wings as eagles after the order in Isaiah 40:31

After the order in Numbers 6:24–26 I decree that The Lord bless thee, and keep thee:

The Lord make his face shine upon thee, and be gracious unto thee. The LORD lift up his countenance upon thee, and give thee peace.

Happy 55th Birthday to the Audu of Ibiyemi and Olukunle Famuyiwa clan.

They say the first child in an African family is born twice, once as a baby, and again as an unpaid assistant father.

My brother did not have other siblings jumping at his first wail; he arrived with invisible responsibilities strapped to him like ceremonial agbada.

As the first of five, he mastered the sacred art of carrying everybody’s matter. House cleaning? Present. Family drama? Present. Emergency mechanic negotiations? Present. Random advice nobody asked for but everybody needed? Always present.

Here’s the funny thing, this son of Ibiyemi hardly calls. You can wait for “How are you?” call tl next Easter. But let there be one family crisis or just sneeze near danger and suddenly your phone rings and he is negotiating appearing like an action hero entering scene three of a Nollywood blockbuster. Flights booked. Bags packed. Face serious. Wallet loaded.

At a recent funeral for the patriarch of a family close to ours, while everyone was buried in sympathy, service of songs logistics, and emotional exhaustion, one woman discovered her phone had been stolen. Most people would have sighed dramatically and said, “Ah! Eeya! These things happen.” Not Oluwabamidele. My brother turned into a one-man investigative task force, Omo Olopa! The next thing, he is asking questions, following up information on the venue's camera. Following leads. Coordinating people. Going far beyond obligation because somewhere inside him lives a stubborn refusal to ignore another person’s distress. That is who Tolutope is.

His names? Dad's family named him Olubamidele because names from the clan are predicated by Olu but MAMI's family stuck to their Tolutope because this was the name MAMI received from the Holy Spirit and when Grandma Fatolu-Odu arrived the hospital to celebrate the birth of her grandson she chanted, Tolutope. It wasn't family rivalry, it was just two principled families sticking to the name Eleduwa whispered to them.

You would expect my brother to be British like MAMI or Native like Bami, somehow, he chose to be the life of every party, picking their personable personae (oyinbo repete).

Give him music, friends - old and new, small pepper soup, plus two hours, and suddenly strangers are laughing like cousins at a December reunion. Talking about chopping life, he few years ago was laughing out loud and went back headlong, face down. Death starred him in the face but Jesu Kristi said rara o!

Se ba o ku, ise o tan. He continues to carry joy naturally, the kind that makes room lighter without trying too hard. The kind of man whose arrival changes the temperature and flips the thermostat of a gathering. Once he arrives, water turns to wine and cassava turns to lafun with ooyọ. Not that he cares much about lafun as Eko recultured him aa Lagos Bobo. I said that to say he would make appropriate provision for whatever is missing.

But beneath every roaring laughter sits wisdom. Not the noisy type that quotes motivational speakers every five minutes. His wisdom is quieter, seasoned; sometimes hidden inside jokes and side comments that only make sense three months later when life humbles you properly.

I still share the ko-ko-ka joke at events to which I am invited as emcee... I bought this lovely pair of shoes and was demo-ing, he was present and most likely MAMI too in the apartment we shared at Adeniji Adele... As I walked with my shoes doing ko-ko-ka and singing "bata mi a dun kokoka, ready to style out for my next television programme, Oluwabamidele whispered aloud in pidgin, "Beta shoe no dey make noise!" Damn! He burst my bubble right there. I almost smacked his head with newspaper rolls!

He may skip church o, he is NOT SU like Motun and Omolola, but nobody who knows him doubts that he walks with deep awareness that God directs the script of his life. Faith for him is less performance, more presence of mind.

And love? Ah. That chapter matured beautifully with Abiola, his heartthrob. If she wants to start a fight, let her ignore any of his siblings when we arrive! But she is so sweet. We love and honour her not as wife but the one after me in the line up of dames in our Eko-Egba Kingdom. Yes, I yari for the drama of call your elder brother's wife sister. Lailai! If we start am 25 yeara ago e for don become entitlement.

He grew into a man who loves his wife deeply — not just loudly, but sacrificially. The kind of love that shows up in responsibility, protection, consistency, and provision. He stands firmly for his nuclear family while still stretching his hands toward the extended one, carrying both with dignity even when nobody sees the cost.