Better Tomorrow Chapters 2 - The Pains & Gains of Name Change!

Chapter 2

Welcome To My Life!

(Childhood, Education and Early)

Women Had No Say!

The foregoing history of my maternal parenthood revealed that my mother, Victoria Olofintomire, was given in marriage by her father, Chief Olayinka, to Chief Ilugbusi as a second wife.

By my estimation, Pa Ilugbusi might have been born around the year 1870 while Victoria Tomire, my mother, was born on or about the year 1910.

No matter the great age of her husband, the tradition then was that fathers determined whom their daughters married. That was the case with my mother, Victoria and she had no choice in the matter other than to accept the choice of her father.

However, Pa Ilugbusi was fertile enough to father seven children from Victoria of whom three - Fehintola, Ajiboye and Julianah, survived. At the point of my mother's last delivery, she was too young by African standards to stop bearing children when Pa Ilugbusi's libido dwindled.

My Birth

So, my mother decided to continue bearing children regardless of the disability or unwillingness of her customary husband to co-habit.

I am not Pa Ilugbusi's Child!

In variably by her liberty, she challenged the age-long tradition, which, unfairly, tied a woman perpetually to a particular man and his family, whether she liked it or not! It was in this state of flux that she conceived me for Pa Gabriel Omogboyega who was from an entirely different family. Their love relationship produced this writer biologically for Pa Omogboyega. That was on 22nd July, 1957, when my mother Victoria Tomire was about 46 years of age. Thereafter, it was not only left for me to discover my heredity as I grew up but it was the genesis of the hottest battle I had to fight in my later years!

Meanwhile at birth, I was named after Pa Ilugbusi who was my legal father rather than my after biological father, Gabriel Omogboyega. I was also raised in Pa Ilugbusi's house.

Even after his death in July 1967, I continued to bear his name till January 15th, 1993 (See the Guardian Newspaper of 15th January 1993) when after over 25 years of thorough research myself, I found out the true circumstances of my birth. The discovery motivated me to change my surname to Omogboyega to reflect the whole truth about my biological origin.

Since I had promised to give you, the thick and the thin of my life-story, then let me give you, my dear readers, the first-hand account of a nasty experience (but which I now consider amusing) before I detected my biological origin and reclaimed my otherwise hitherto lost birthright.

How I discovered My Biological Origin Myself

First, neither my mother nor my father ever one day called me and (voluntarily) narrated the story of my birth to me. (According to what I gathered later), it was left “for the child to discover and decide for himself what he would do”! However, they deliberately created the enabling environment for an observant child to discover the truth.

For instance, I grew up to see my father, Omogboyega, being very close to me. My father and mother always greeted themselves warmly whenever my mother was on her way to the farm or market. My mother took me to visit my father as often as possible. Actually, Pa Omogboyega's senior wife, Hannah, was a bossom friend of my mother. But there was no hint of the unusual or special meaning to such visits, at least from my innocent child's perspective.

However, I was very conscious of the fact that Pa Omogboyega paid me a special affection and he always drew me closer whenever Mum and I visited him. His wives always went out of their way to give me surplus food to eat. His junior wife, Iyaniwura, constantly visited my mother in the evenings “to buy fish”! I never knew, until much later, that there was no fish whatsoever to buy by her. It was a simple cover-up or an avenue for her to deliver messages from her husband to my mother and vice versa! I was too young to understand or decode their hidden agenda. My simple understanding and conclusion was that Pa Omogboyega was a part of Pa Ilugbusi's larger family; so I was interacting in a free relationship between both houses! During his life-time, Pa Ilugbusi himself used to send me to my father's workshop to repair his cutlasses and hoes. Even with the benefit of hindsight, I would not know whether he was aware of the situation.

As time went by and my awareness expectedly increased, I began to question things generally. I remember sometime in or before 1967, I asked my mother this question: “what is the relationship between Papa Agbede (or Pa Black Smith, for Omogboyega was a blacksmith by profession) and Papa Ilugbusi?”. Whatever her answer, it was never convincing. Unknown to me, this was the very beginning of my very innocent inquiry into my biological origin. I repeated this question often whenever it occurred to me to do so but my mother always diverted my focus by introducing new topics!

When Pa Ilugbusi died sometime in July or so 1967, I as a (10 years old) child, celebrating the passing away of his father, tied my 'agidi' ( a form of khaki material or wrap around) to my neck and joyfully went to the centre of burial activities, dancing away unconcernedly to the local drumbeats. Uncle Ayo Ilugbusi (now late) uncharacteristically shouted me out of the place! I am not saying here that Uncle Ayo apparently knew of my actual parenthood or that he did it deliberately to hurt me. The truth could have been that he would have ordered any other child out of the scene to preserve a solemn atmosphere where only elders were expected to gather for rituals. Uncle Ayo was such a wonderful man with whom I was very close, both at home and in the farm. However, whatever his reason might have been, his action registered strongly in my subconscious mind at the time, so much so that I could easily recall the incident while writing this book. That formed part of the corroborative happenings in 1979 or so, when the actual meaningful investigation of what constituted the relationship between Omogboyega’s and the Ilugbusi’s emerged.

Sometime that year, my mother visited me. Then I was living in a Boys Quarter at No. 28 Balogun Street, Bolade-Oshodi, Lagos. Ever since Pa Ilugbusi's death in 1967, Pa Omogboyega continued to treat me endearingly whenever I visited home and he often invited me to his abode. I still suspected nothing, as I reckoned that his abiding affection for me was the carry-over of earlier years.

However, one afternoon, it occurred to me to ask her again why Pa Omogboyega was so close to me. I told her my question was important because of the dear and inexplicable manner he drew close to me whenever I was home.

My mother, as usual, tried to shift our discussion to something else which forced me to be agitated. Thereafter, I pestered her to give me a straight answer until one day, after a long emotional outpouring and full of apologies for delaying for so long before telling me the truth, she dropped the bombshell that Pa Omogboyega “fathered you” biologically!

This revelation upset me greatly and weakened me to my bone marrows. When I managed to control myself, I realised that it was a nasty day in my history as I felt totally cheated by my real father who had left me to go through the personal sufferings I went through up till then!

As catharsis ensued from my emotional disturbance, something flashed the picture of Pa Omogboyega through my brain and persuaded me to compare and contrast our facial outlooks. Alas! I am his direct replica! This fact further aggravated my anger because I felt that this world had not treated me kindly at all - what with such vivid resemblance by which I was seemingly laughed or mocked at for my naked incomprehension!

I vowed to my mother, there and then, that I would have to change my name to reflect my father's. After that, I went further to verify the truth of my mother's denouement by confronting Pa Omogboyega with my mother's confession. He confirmed her statement and I promptly expressed my shock and disappointment at the very unkind way he and my mother had treated me.

He too apologised profusely and explained to me that I was too young to be saddled with understaning the whole thing and that it had not been his wish to abandon me but he rather hoped that the situation would sort itself out, especially at the period of my maturity. Moreso that if he had boldly come forward to claim me, the Ilugbusi family would no doubt have reacted violently an implication that might have been worse for me as a child . That was why he and mother reached the agreement that “when the child is matured, he will decide for himself.”

As much as I can recollect, what follows below was the sum of his discussions with me:

“Now that you have asked your mother and she has confirmed the truth to you and I confirm it, the ball is now in your court. I, and my entire family, will be too glad to receive you. Indeed it is an open secret among your younger brother, Ojo and sisters and indeed in my entire family for I have always discussed your case with them all. They have been anxious to meet with and would gladly receive you whenever you decide to come in. My two wives, too, are no strangers to you, they eagerly await your coming to your rightful home. ”

After my father had expressly acknowledged my paternity, I verified the position with members of my paternal family (especially his two wives, my eldest half-sister, Florence and my younger half-sister, Desola) which corroborated my father's assurance that my case was an in-house open secret and that I would be welcomed into my natural home.

However, two (names withheld) out of my three maternal siblings whom I consulted were very hostile to me. To them, it was unthinkable that I should change my name after 35 years of bearing it or move to a new family I hardly knew. (Of course, they could never contenance my relationship with Pa Omogboyega who, according to them, did not contribute to my upbringing nor would they at that stage, condone the new development, no matter how true it was). There were other vehement reactions and threats that kept me unsettled for a very long while before I could summon the necessary courage to progress my decision to fruition.

Some people tended to look at the issue from the 'bread and butter' perspective rather than the 'reality angle' - the fact that blood is thicker than water. My maternal siblings in particular did not want to know how devastated my total being was, never really knowing where I belonged and agonizing for years as I searched for my roots and the truth about my being!

They wanted me to continue to live in agony and delusion without a happy rest for my soul! Nobody wished or was interested in giving me a fair hearing to know my true feelings in the matter. This hard stand by my maternal siblings, my own blood who should affectionately stand by me during such trying times, aggravated my agony. My mother and I were seemingly barricaded in one camp while the rest of her children ganged up against us on the other side!

However, two persons, Uncle Julius Omogbemile and Chief (Mrs) Elizabeth Adegbola who, at least, listened to my story and tried to broker peace, became targets of vicious attacks by my maternal siblings.

Julius was accused of habouring me while Chief Adegbola was accused of having taken some bribe from me! (The bribe, according to them, was the financial role they claimed I played during her installation as a Chief a few years back!) For three reasons, I was highly disappointed and deeply hurt to my bone marrows by their damaging remarks, no matter the level of provocation! Firstly, because I never liked myself, or anybody for that matter, misinterpreting my good intentions to people. I consider myself a mere instrument in the hands of God used to touch people's lives. Secondly, Chief Adegbola was third in rank to my mother by order of birth. So, by all standards, she was too elderly to be abused and ridiculed by my maternal siblings as they did. I felt deeply sorry for her for she did not deserve the vile treatment she received for trying to broker peace among us.

The situation was worse for Julius because his own house was the only place I could stay whenever I came home for the past several years before the incident. Due to his very kind nature and indeed he is the man who championed the cause of every member of the family and philosophy of life was guided my life pursuits, he had been the closest person to me in my entire maternal family (my readers would see more details on this in subsequent chapters of this book).

Actually it wasn't that he enjoyed the controversy surrounding me but he simply felt on principle that he could not deny me and not listen to me! God Almighty will have mercy upon them for their good understanding during that turbulent period of my life. But I also seize this opportunity to apologise for taking them through such a nightmare and hope that they too have since realised that I had no choice but to do what I did.

As the upheaval in the family played out itself, I consulted with reputable men of God and engaged myself in fervent prayers. For instance, I met with my immediate past Pastor, Pastor Owaseye of Christ Apostolic Church, Orile Iganmu, as well as my latest Pastor, Pastor Lawrence Osagie of Powerline Bible Church, Ijeshatedo for counsel. Even though both men knew not themselves, they were unanimous and candid in their opinions that since I knew the truth about my origin, I needed not to be emotional about my decision. Rather, I should proceed forthwith to cement my relationship with my biological father. For a long time, I prayed continually about it until the 13th year of my discovering the truth when I finally made bold to effect the necessary changes as published in “The Guardian Newspaper” of January 15, 1993!

Ripples! Ripples!! Ripples !!! - Things Fell Truly Apart!

First, my youngest child, 'Bosun, was due to be christened on the 1st day of January 1993. He would have become the first person to bear Omogboyega as a surname from birth amongst all my children but the tension in the air compelled me to maintain the status quo ante and reluctantly and unavoidably named him after Pa Ilugbusi because my siblings were with me waiting to hear Omogboyega's name mentioned so as to scatter the whole ceremony! God's wisdom and humility on my part prevailed. The naming ceremony was inevitably conducted under an atmosphere of uneasy calm! Although I was very uncomfortable but to avoid problems, only members of the Ilugbusi's family were invited to attend the ceremony and they did but under duress because they were already all aware of my decision!

Shortly after the naming ceremony, some of the Ilugbusis who visited me on the issue, after hearing the full details of my circumstance felt really disturbed and appealed to me to consider rescinding my decision outrightly, describing it as a stupid one! However, one person (Uncle David) stood out of the crowd and were it possible, solely because of him, I would have rescinded my decision.

What moved me about his own approach was the fact that after I had narrated the whole story to him, he saw not only where the truth lay but also my nightmare and the negative consequences of the situation whether I stood by my decision to change my name or maintained the status quo ante. As recognition dawned on him, I looked at him straight in the eye and asked him rhetorically “Daddy, why should this happen to me?” and as I said that, I broke down in tears and wept bitterly! He too sobbed.

At this open display of emotional abandonment, Uncle Isreal (my mother's brother) could not himself help but join us in weeping! Both men understood my dilemma and I respected Uncle David's very matured approach of not being unrealistically and baselessly antagonistic in considering the issue. He listened to me attentively. But for this man, if posterity would not judge me, if the generations after me would not be reminded of the 'foolish decision' their father, grand-father or great grand father had taken about altering their biological origin long after I must have gone to the great beyond, I would have rescinded my decision. But I could not! It pained me because it somewhat unavoidably offended him and I had to appeal to him to bear with me as we parted.

Unfortunately, this innocent but reasonable bystander became a victim of vicious attacks, starting from my maternal siblings down to some principal members of the Ilugbusis family! He was accused of compromising! So for my sake, he was insulted! My sincere apologies to him for as long as the issue rankles.

My Mother and I Were Summoned To Family Court

At the very climax of the controversy, mother and I were summoned, in writing, to the Olonitolas' (Pa Ilugbusi's larger family) Family Meeting to explain the allegation that my mother had decided to give or had sold me to the Omogboyega family and to authenticate or disprove the rumour. The arena was visibly charged. During the meeting, I made bold to declare before the elders present how I established my real paternity. They turned to my mother who asked a rather rhetorical question before which she answered: “Of my four surviving children, did anybody ever come forward to claim paternity over the first three? If not so, then I cannot deny knowledge of the other man's claim over Opeyemi, my last born!”

Her firm statement provoked violent reactions including physical threats, as pandemonium ensued. That marked a complete breakdown in the relationship between me and my maternal siblings, between my mother and them, between the Ilugbusi family and Omogboyega's family, and between Omogboyega and my siblings. In the end, my mother and I managed to leave the environment unharmed physically.

Thereafter, my own siblings monitored me closely, day and night. I was disowned and sold out to public ridicule by those who ought to have protected me. I was spied on and reported copiously to the whole of Iyin people about my every position at all material times. So I was placed on tenterhooks!

I received loads of anxious visitors for whom I had to spend so much money to transport them back home. They mostly came to persuade me to rescind my decision. I humbly explained my position to them, convinced them about it and they returned home wiser, believing that my decision was irreversible if I, and the generations after me, would not regret ever coming to this world.

Deep down, I appreciated the over-reactions of my maternal relatives. I understood that it could truly be dispiritful to lose a 35-year old, seemingly promising child to another family. I felt for them but surely not at the expense of my own joy. Their pain was subjective and could never be equated with mine for as long as I lingered over my fate. Their pain was just emotional and a tip of the iceberg of my own psychological and physical agony. There was just no way to broker a compromise or sacrifice truth for falsehood, subject God's arrangement to man's tradition or sacrifice my personal joy (and those of my generations to come) at the altar of selfish emotions. Therefore I stood firm and prayed as much as my strength could carry me.

Having achieved my goal by standing (!), I now began to work to restore lasting peace. My strategy was simple. First, I regarded the two homes as my mine equally. So, I resolved not to change my attitude towards the Ilugbusis. Thirdly, though difficult, I tried as much as I could to continue to relate with my own maternal siblings. Initially it was not easy but gradually it got better and better.

I Briefed My Wife and Children

One thing I felt guilty about but which I could do nothing to prevent was the fact that not until the point at which I had sworn to an oath in the court and was already about to place the classified advertisement in the newspaper, I kept my wife in the dark about the whole episode. The reason being that I was rather too sure she would be too worried if I had briefed her much earlier.

However, at the point it was clear to me that I was not going to reverse my decision, I was compelled, full of apologies for having hidden the matter from her and our children till then, to narrate the full story to her and all our children, biological or adopted. I also prepared their minds for the crisis that would most likely follow. It was one of the most uncomfortable moments of my life. I summed up courage to go on. So I leveled with them about the steps I had decided to take. We discussed everything at length, the pros and cons until we agreed on what to do.

That was why it was possible for us all to accommodate the crisis that ensued as enumerated already.

Another milestone we had to achieve was to let my in-laws know about what was happening. But before I could do that, one of my maternal siblings got faster there than us. He had gone to my wife's family to scare them! Eventually, when I got there, I had to explain my position after which it was discovered that the person that came to them was actually over-reacting! So, I, accompanied by my father Pa Omogboyega, my mother, and my two step-mothers, Hannah and Iyaniwura with Uncle Ben Esan, visited my in-laws to inform them about my whole circumstance, during which I handed over to my father-in-law a copy of the first edition of (“Better Tomorrow”) and another pamphlet titled “Why I Changed My Name” to them. Expectedly, they were initially shocked, and expressed some anxiety but I diffused their fears and convinced them that I had been under a big yoke, which had been hanging upon my neck from childhood. It was therefore inevitable that I should change my name, which I assured them had already been effected. They finally welcomed their new set of in-laws and jointly prayed for better days ahead.

Finally, my wife and my children physically moved over to my biological father, Pa Gabriel Omogboyega's house where his two wonderful wives, Hannah and Iyaniwura as well as my paternal siblings by them, who had longed to meet and receive us, welcomed them with great joy.

So the heat from the Ilugbusi family was counterbalanced and doused by the soothing balm from the Omogboyega family. My relief was rooted in the secret details of my relationship with my father and his household as far back as when I was under ten years old, even before Pa Ilugbusi's death.

However, as one of my children, Bosun, once on reflection, rightly observed, “everything in this world has advantages and disadvantages”. So I will concentrate on the merits of my decision from this point onward.

First, as I grew older before January 1993, I was miserable because of the fact that I was not answering my father's name. Secondly, the more I saw my father and the fact that I am his carbon copy, it psychologically made me wretched and I looked at life as not worth living for me at all.

Before My Freedom

People said all sorts of things and expressed a great deal of fears for my personal safety, but I remained resolute in the God Almighty whom I serve and in whom I trust. It is a miserable life for a child to know his father and yet cannot freely and openly relate with him. This condition reduces the child to a sub-human existence! That was my agony for the first 35 years of my life! So, my greatest benefit from rectifying the situation and consummating the relationship with my biological father was unqualified joy, a deep sense of freedom, peace of mind and a fundamental sense of belonging. It was like a big yoke had been lifted off my shoulders and I felt really light.

I Am Free!

But, the moment I acted, marked the beginning of laying my life's foundation on solid rock, and self-fulfillment.

The Benefits of Two Homes!

My second benefit was that my abode became two homes: where I was physically born and raised, and my rightful biological home. I knew that it would be sheer ingratitude were I to desert Pa Ilugbusi's home entirely -something like one biting the finger that fed one. As a Christian, I could not do that. Much had been given to raise me in Pa Ilugbusi's house; therefore, I had much to give back to them in appreciation of their good gesture and love. They cared for me unconditionally as a family member from when I was a toddler till I became someone of substance. That could not be wished away.

I Realised God's Purposes for My Life

Thirdly, I recognized that God has used me positively to bond and unite the two families, otherwise biologically unrelated, into one big family. Today, happily, the Ilugbusis invite me to all good things happening in their house and I make it a point of duty, as their 'son', to honour such invitations whenever practicable. I am for them. They are for me.

Even In Death, My Mother Benefited!

When my mother died, she died a happy woman. She was duly honoured by them as if there had not been any ripple in the relationship. So my mother's lying-in-state before burial took place in three homes: her parent's home, Pa Omogboyega's home and finally Pa Ilugbusi's home where she was laid overnight before her burial the following day! It couldn't be better for anyone than what my mother experienced alive, nay even in her death!. That's why I have been so glad to be a uniting link for both families.

My Mother Did Right

Fourthly, my mother died knowing that my fate was settled and no longer hanging in the air. That pleased me indeed.

(To be continued)






Send bulk e-mail with relative ease! (It is what I use to design and send many mail with only one click!Click below for details.