Ogunbiyi is a good storyteller. In lucid prose, he connects the dots of what, by all accounts, has been a remarkable life in which various actors appear on his stage, play their roles, and move on, as he continues his journey on life's journey, a journey made bearable by the understanding, patience and love of his wife, Sade. With admirable candor, he presents himself, not as a superman, but as a mere mortal with flaws and missteps like everyone else.
For some inexplicable reason, the first thought that came to mind when I saw the title of Dr. Yemi Ogunbiyi's memoir, The Road Never Forgets, was a Fast forward to Wole Soyinka's world-acclaimed play, The Road. The word 'road' has had a loaded meaning for me on various metaphorical levels ever since I starred in a production of the play in the early 70's at the SS Peter and Paul Major Seminary, Bodija, Ibadan, under the direction of the inimitable theater purse amazon, Zulu Sofola.
But Ogunbiyi's road is much happier than that depicted in Soyinka's The Road. From his birth in Kano to his exciting stays in life until his 75th birthday, Ogunbiyi takes us on an exciting journey through the road of life populated by family, friends, enemies and various stragglers. Underlying his interpretation is a firm belief in his unchanging destiny in which others have been assigned by Providence to play specific roles, for better or for worse, in order to direct him towards the fulfillment of the purpose for which he was sent here.
Ogunbiyi is a good storyteller. In lucid prose, he connects the dots of what, by all accounts, has been a remarkable life in which various actors appear on his stage, play their roles, and move on, as he continues his journey on life's journey, a journey made bearable by the understanding, patience and love of his wife, Sade. With admirable candor, he presents himself, not as a superman, but as a mere mortal with flaws and missteps like everyone else.
He started life with a vague realization of who he really was. Born in Kano to a Yoruba father and an Igbo mother, his first language was Hausa. Then, of course, he also spoke Igbo, but very little Yoruba. Who was young Yemi really - Hausa, Igbo, Yoruba or Wazobia?
Experts say that an identity crisis is a period of uncertainty or confusion in a person's life, which occurs when a person's sense of identity becomes insecure and unstable. The affected person wonders who they are and their role in society. As noted by renowned developmental psychologist, Erik Erikson, identity formation is one of the most significant conflicts people face.
Ogunbiyi paints fascinating scenes of a happy childhood of masquerades, childhood pranks, and high academic expectations, with the understanding that if his parents provided for all of his material needs, he was obligated to return good grades to school.
The decision to send him to high school in the West Region was to have a lasting impact on his life in ways that would help him resolve the question of who he really was. He had something of an Obama moment when he met his grandmother in Ipara and was introduced to her rich Yoruba heritage and endless streams of relatives.
This section of the story reminded me of Barack Obama's own account of his connection to his Kenyan roots when he visited his grandmother in the village and realized he had a name with a rich heritage. In America, Obama was just another name; in Kenya it was a name with recognition...
Ogunbiyi is a good storyteller. In lucid prose, he connects the dots of what, by all accounts, has been a remarkable life in which various actors appear on his stage, play their roles, and move on, as he continues his journey on life's journey, a journey made bearable by the understanding, patience and love of his wife, Sade. With admirable candor, he presents himself, not as a superman, but as a mere mortal with flaws and missteps like everyone else.
For some inexplicable reason, the first thought that came to mind when I saw the title of Dr. Yemi Ogunbiyi's memoir, The Road Never Forgets, was a Fast forward to Wole Soyinka's world-acclaimed play, The Road. The word 'road' has had a loaded meaning for me on various metaphorical levels ever since I starred in a production of the play in the early 70's at the SS Peter and Paul Major Seminary, Bodija, Ibadan, under the direction of the inimitable theater purse amazon, Zulu Sofola.
But Ogunbiyi's road is much happier than that depicted in Soyinka's The Road. From his birth in Kano to his exciting stays in life until his 75th birthday, Ogunbiyi takes us on an exciting journey through the road of life populated by family, friends, enemies and various stragglers. Underlying his interpretation is a firm belief in his unchanging destiny in which others have been assigned by Providence to play specific roles, for better or for worse, in order to direct him towards the fulfillment of the purpose for which he was sent here.
Ogunbiyi is a good storyteller. In lucid prose, he connects the dots of what, by all accounts, has been a remarkable life in which various actors appear on his stage, play their roles, and move on, as he continues his journey on life's journey, a journey made bearable by the understanding, patience and love of his wife, Sade. With admirable candor, he presents himself, not as a superman, but as a mere mortal with flaws and missteps like everyone else.
He started life with a vague realization of who he really was. Born in Kano to a Yoruba father and an Igbo mother, his first language was Hausa. Then, of course, he also spoke Igbo, but very little Yoruba. Who was young Yemi really - Hausa, Igbo, Yoruba or Wazobia?
Experts say that an identity crisis is a period of uncertainty or confusion in a person's life, which occurs when a person's sense of identity becomes insecure and unstable. The affected person wonders who they are and their role in society. As noted by renowned developmental psychologist, Erik Erikson, identity formation is one of the most significant conflicts people face.
Ogunbiyi paints fascinating scenes of a happy childhood of masquerades, childhood pranks, and high academic expectations, with the understanding that if his parents provided for all of his material needs, he was obligated to return good grades to school.
The decision to send him to high school in the West Region was to have a lasting impact on his life in ways that would help him resolve the question of who he really was. He had something of an Obama moment when he met his grandmother in Ipara and was introduced to her rich Yoruba heritage and endless streams of relatives.
This section of the story reminded me of Barack Obama's own account of his connection to his Kenyan roots when he visited his grandmother in the village and realized he had a name with a rich heritage. In America, Obama was just another name; in Kenya it was a name with recognition...
Dr Yemi Ogunbiyi
