First of all, let us establish something fundamental: nobody called Mr. Bob Dee from the Ovation Media Group – that once-nostalgic photobook best remembered as a glorified tailor’s catalogue. Ovation today is at best in a coma, and that is me being charitable, granting it the faint hope that some breath may yet be trapped in its lungs. When last did you – or anyone within your entire circle – purchase an Ovation magazine?
Also read: Why you can’t blame Mrs Oluremi Tinubu
So who still works in a dead or dying media outfit? But in the bid to appear busy, to create the illusion of relevance, he would have us believe that his attention was drawn to it. Meanwhile, the man practically spends the whole day scrolling social-media timelines like a juvenile.
The last I saw of this supposedly busy 65-year-old grandfather was him joining Atiku’s children and domestic staff to recite that famous chorus:
“I am not the celebrant; I have come to celebrate with my Daddy.”
Agbàlagbà, tani baba e?
A three-time presidential hopeful doing “Daddy Oyoyo.” For those who carefully watched that “Oyoyo” video, you’d notice the truly elderly among them – people who actually share closer ties to Atiku – politely avoided joining in the embarrassment. But not Bob Dee. When gluttony seats at the head of the table, logic and dignity usually excuse themselves.
Now, to the substance of the viral video involving the First Lady, Her Excellency, Yeye Asiwaju Ile Oodua, Senator Oluremi Tinubu, and the Governor of Osun State, His Excellency, Gov. Adeleke…
My first counsel: if you are not Yoruba, please take a dignified back seat. And that includes Bob Dee too. He is not one of us. The natural rhythm of the language is foreign to him. Yoruba understanding does not come from textbooks – even if he studied Ifa or Orunmila in the university, it won’t matter. Yoruba comprehension is a genetic inheritance, a meaning soaked into the bloodstream.
Because in Yoruba, “My husband” and “My husband” can mean a thousand different things depending on context, tone, nuance, reference, and relationship. The words may point to the groom; they may point to a son; they could refer to an in-law; they may even kinsman. Our language is a masquerade – the cloth is never the spirit. If you rely only on the literal words, you lose 80% of the meaning and essence.
In that video, among the several clues revealing that it was simply friendly banter between two elevated children of the land, the First Lady muttered:
“Ẹ má bẹ̀rẹ̀ ní yẹn.”
Do not attempt a lazy English translation. You will murder the essence. At best it means:
“I know you too well as ever joyful – if I leave you, you will go on without end.”
A playful nudge between two people whose relationship stretches back decades – remember they both served together in the Senate.
Mandela’s visit to the UK in 1996, the South African leader addressed the Queen by her first name and even joked about her weight:
“Elizabeth, you have lost weight.”
Royal staffers were stunned. One whispered:
“Mandela was the only man who could call Her Majesty by her first name without the room freezing.”
At another Commonwealth event, the Queen was taking her time greeting guests. Mandela, half-teasing and half-scolding, said:
“You are behaving like a young woman – you must slow down.”
And she shot back with equal humour:
“You should talk!”
To a casual onlooker – like those royal staffers – Mandela might have seemed out of order. But he was joking with a friend, and the friend received it in that spirit.
Likewise, to bystanders like the “Daddy Oyoyo” chorister, Bob Dee, it may appear as though the First Lady stepped out of line. But she was speaking to a friend, in a language layered with familiarity and cultural texture. And until Gov. Adeleke himself expresses displeasure – if at all – the rest of you should kindly retain your commentary.
After all, why should the bearer of the milk remain calm while the metal scavengers goes restless?
Good Morning Severally.
