Mr Adegboyega Adejumo, management consultant, researcher and public affairs analyst, is the publicity secretary of the Yoruba Summit Group. He told his life story to TUNDE ADELEKE.
YOUR name sounds like it revolves around celebration. What is all about?
My name is Adegboyega Adejumo. I limit myself to just the two names. Adegboyega was given to me by my father. He was in the civil service for nine and a half years, just six months to clocking 10 years, and was pensioned for life. But he decided that he was going to be like his own father, who was an Anglican priest. He had a vision in which his father told him what he wanted him to do. If my grandfather had lived in these modern times, he would have been, perhaps, the greatest of the ministers of God, because he was a man of miracles. He served at Ile-Ife for 25 years and he died there. Originally, my grandfather was from Oke-Ofa in Ibadan. His grandfather was David Kukomi, who brought Christianity to Ibadan. My grandfather was the 24th student to be admitted into St. Andrew’s College, Oyo, in 1900. He went with his cousins, Daodu Alalade and others. Bishop Akinyele, all of them, were cousins, grandchildren and children of Kukomi. They all attended St.
Andrew’s College, including Bishop Oyebode, the first son of Kukomi, who was the first person to be ordained a priest in Ibadan in 1895. My own grandfather was born in 1880. My father was well grounded in all of these. So, he believed in that vision and left the civil service to become an Anglican priest. He went to Immanuel College, and I was born a year or two after he was made a priest. He named me Adegboyega – one that has come to enhance the royalty that we were known for. My great great-grandfather, Kukomi, was royalty, son of Bashorun Yamba of old Oyo, who was Kukomi’s grandfather. Originally, we were from Oyo-Ile, but Kukomi came to Ibadan at the same time with Iba Oluyole. When Oyo-Ile was sacked in 1835, they had already left in 1829 because of the incessant attacks and the royalty would not be caught in that kind of situation. So, Iba Oluyole was the grandson of Alaafin Abiodun. I was born and named Adegboyega on April 1, 1962.
Closure of borders in S/West suspicious — Gani Adams
You must be very proud of your heritage…
Of course. There were seven of them who were cousins and they all founded the first political movement in Ibadan called Egbe Agbaotan. At that time, the highest school in Nigeria was St. Andrew’s College, Oyo. After that, you go to Fourah Bay College in Sierra Leone. At that time, there was the First World War and they realised that the British were vulnerable and they demanded so much from the indigenous people, so that they could be involved in the affairs of their own nation. They were consequently scattered and my grandfather was first transferred to Akure where my own father was born. I think the dispersal was in 1918 when they formed Egbe Agbaotan. So, they dispersed: Bishop Akinyele to Ondo, Adebiyi to Osogbo because they didn’t want them to be in the same place where they could foment trouble and undermine the British rule. That was how my grandfather found himself first in Akure and then Ile-Ife in 1925, two years after my own father was born.
So much about your paternal line. Who was your mum?
My mother was from Akure. Her mother was a direct daughter of the Deji of Akure. Her father was the late Ejemikin of Akure. In his time, he had 14 houses. After he died, his children were able to expand his estate to about 30 houses today with an estate in Akure. My grandfather died in 1966 and I still collect rent from his estate. I’m his grandson, but he had many children, not to talk of grandchildren. In fact, every year, not less than N100,000 comes to me from Akure and I don’t even know the tenants. My mother was royalty, a teacher. At the time my father met her or got married to her, he was still a civil servant and was in the North. In those days, everything was done by correspondence, you saw the photograph, came down; that was it.
How was your growing up?
We were three children: my late brother was born in 1954; my brother, Professor Soji Adejumo, was born in 1956 and I was born in 1962. I’m not sure how to describe the three of us growing up. At times, when I tried to express myself, I was always conscious of the fact that it’s probably going to be an unbelievable story. I went to a primary school with people like Doyin Akande of the Akande family of Kudeti in Ibadan. We grew up together, attended the same school, St. David’s Primary School, Kudeti, but I started at St. Mark, Ofa. My father worked at Ofa before he was transferred to Ibadan in 1967. That’s to tell you I was only five years when I was admitted into primary school. I attended both Ibadan Grammar School and Ife Grammar School. I have friends, even from the university. My late brother, Tunde was a man of the people, rich and successful. My brother, Soji, is accomplished in his chosen career. He is a professor and he is still in politics.
And brotherly issues?
I was best man when my late brother got married, and you are supposed to choose out of your friends. When I got married, my brother, Soji was my best man and when he got married, I was his best man. We couldn’t have done it differently because we were raised that way. I can’t find the right word to describe my father. We did a book on him when he died. He died at 67. I remember in Kudeti, a man died, but the son of the dead wanted to jump into the grave; my father told the mom, ‘Bring this boy to my house” and he was raised by my father up to the university level. He brought us up to live in that image, and we were inseparable, the three of us; it was fun. My late brother started driving to school when he was in Form Three. I started driving when I was in Primary Six. My father gave us everything, but with moderation, we were never ever excessive.
What about life in the university?
The university was more than fun – I was not exactly that studious student. My horizon had been opened up before I got to the university, mostly by my father. He had introduced me to many things – knowledge in everything. When the engine of a friend’s car got knocked in school, we went and bought the parts and fixed it ourselves. From the crankshaft to the metal and bearing to the ring to gasket, we fixed everything. We started around 7.00 a.m. and finished at 3.00 p.m. and by 4.00 p.m., we were on the road in the same car. That’s the kind of knowledge I brought to the university. I entered University of Ife in 1981, I passed JAMB, I refused to go. A few friends left at Basic I, but I went on to Basic II. I said I wanted to see this through. So, you can imagine a situation where you are grounded in your A’ Levels and you entered the university and realised that most of the things they were teaching were repetitive.
What exactly did you study?
English. So, all of that culminated in my not being that perfect student. I met people like Wole Soyinka; I wasn’t in the drama department, but I took his course because my father’s greatest friend was Duro Ladipo. Duro Ladipo’s father was a Catechist under my grandfather. So, Duro Ladipo and my father were friends of sort. Ladipo brought bata drums and all that into the church in 1959 as a teacher and he was almost excommunicated. My father used to invite him to church every year to celebrate St. David’s Day at Kudeti with all his plays. You can imagine an Anglican priest bringing Duro Ladipo on St. David’s Day in remembrance of David Hinderer because the church was named after him. Ladipo at that time was staying on the other side of Bode Market and later moved to P & T. When I got to Ife, I was close to Professor Adebayo Williams and I’m still close to him; he was my lecturer. Though I wasn’t so close to Biodun Jeyifo, I was close to G. G. Darah; those were the people who shaped me. If you read the book, ‘Bisobu Ayanfe’ (The Beloved Bishop) written on the life and time of Bishop Akinyele, you would find listed there, the children and grandchildren of Kukomi, all of them reverends. So, we have always been keeping these things in the family.
Tell us about your career path?
I left the university and found myself in consulting. I served in Benin for one year after the university education. Then I came to Lagos and joined a consulting firm called Konsultserve and the man behind it, A. K. Olumofin, was a genius and he really shaped me. I went into consulting, trying to learn about management, planning, marketing, writing feasibilities, writing project implementation manuals, designing strategies and all that. I worked with him for three years and had a phenomenal rise. I started with just being an executive management consultant, I became senior management consultant, then principal management consultant, senior principal management consultant and I finally became a director, all within three years. At that time, I was called the crown prince of consulting. We actually brought in what was called marketing into banking. So, we started that in 1986/87 and we were able to train first, staff of Afribank then called IBWA. Then, it was the foreign people running it and when we were talking, it was like where are you guys coming from? After a while, we went into the real banking thing and came up with consumer banking and all manner of things designed for the banks. It was a big consulting firm and I rose to become an accounts director and I left in 1989.
Who are your role models?
They are many. My hero from my youth till now is Duro Ladipo. You have to look at the play ‘Ajagunnla’ which tells the story of the invasion of Yorubaland by the Ibariba which happened over 500 years ago because it was before Aare Ona Kakanfo institution by Alaafin Ajagbo. Ajagunnla was from Ila-Orangun and Alaafin had to call him to come and defend the land, and they had to call on Olugbon, Aresa and Onikoyi. He wrote that play about 45 or 50 years ago; that was the power behind the vision of a truly gifted person that Duro Ladipo was!
How do you spend your leisure time?
I almost do not have and that’s the truth. And to tell you the truth, it has affected my private life. A lot of people ask me, how do even you do it? How do you make a living? This is my life; I don’t know how to get myself out of it. I’m too much of a Yoruba person, and I’m too much of an Ibadan man and the Mogaji of the family which places me directly on the path to becoming the Olubadan. So, I’m too grounded in the Yoruba cause to be anything else. Of course, I don’t have excesses; I don’t drink. I drink socially, at the most, maybe I take a bottle of Guinness once in three or four weeks. Those who know me will tell you, if you open the second bottle, I won’t drink it. I don’t smoke. There are no vices really in the real sense of it. What I do mostly is read, write, read, write and I’m contented with the little that God has given me.