No, this is not Olufela Ransome-Kuti (or Fela Anikulapo-Kuti) as Abami Eda later preferred to be called. This is my own Baba 70, my personal Baba 70. This is for Olusakin ,my father and friend.
For this man I have written, because he is the one who made me love reading, and then writing. As a matter of fact, I try to not let life push me so hard that I forget to celebrate every August 10th. Indeed, I consider myself lucky enough to still have my father around because I still have to tax myself to make sure he is feted while he is here.
So, on this day in 2012, I wrote The Journalist Who Made Me Write and I followed it up with Baami! two years later. Those two pieces came from the inner recesses of my heart. Indeed for someone like my father, it had to be done that way. When I could not keep up for a few years, my brother ’Nifemi who runs www.theonenifemibabs.wordpress.com did a very fantastic piece which he titled Love Note To Dad about the same time he started his Stories From My Father series.
All these just to celebrate a man who we see as not just a father, but also as a friend. We have been able to form a bond that transcends the actual father-children relationship as is mostly seen around us here. My dad is that one you can go on to tickle and yab, and it would all end in laughter. Although you must be ready to receive as much, if not more than you have given.
His combination with his late elder brother, Pastor Adewole Babalola was something much better than you can get at any comedy show. They both had a way of first ‘catching cruise’ with one another before teaming up to have a go at any other person who was laughing while they were making jest of one another. God rest my Big Daddy’s soul.
Today, my darling father clocks 70! It is indeed a thing of joy and unlimited happiness to see this day that I had to more or less put many things on hold for him (just because I can anyway). Olusakin deserves every bit of love he would be getting today.
I have seen him epitomise selflessness many times. He has this calm mien that gradually morphs into a ferocious form when you are not doing that which is expected of you. If it is about being time-conscious, you don’t want to be on his wrong side.
Many people see a reserved person. Some many others are chanced to see the other side. Being a news man, my Dad can switch on and off at will. A lover of his work, Baba 70 no dey use hin work play with anyone. He is diligent and extraordinarily committed to his journalism. I remember with not much fondness when Sketch Press Limited had to close down and we were at the receiving end of this, Dad still found a way to practise even when it did not look like bills would be paid.
I inherited the love for writing from my Dad because he exposed me to reading as early as primary three. I am glad to say that I have become someone whose writings he can trust. I trained as an Animal Scientist when in the real sense of the word, Dad thought I would go into the Humanities because of my natural abilities.
That I make money off writing and editing today should be ascribed to Olusakin Babalola, my friend and father.
It is easy for me to introduce myself as Sakin Babalola’s son anywhere because he has left a mark wherever he has been.
And as we launch into another Sphere from today, this is another note to say we love and celebrate you, and I could keep on writing about you till I get to a hundred pages, if not more.
I love you Dad. We love you; and we celebrate your life as you officially become recognised as a senior citizen. I am waiting for Nifemi to come up with another post in his Stories From My Father series because I am sure we will get you to say something today.
Emi gigun ati Alafia Baami. For you I say, Life Begins At 70, and you will live many more years of impact by the grace of The Almighty. We will give you roses while you yet live, and this is just one.
OSCARPOEMS 