Let’s talk about Olajumoke and her haters – Viola Okolie

Let’s talk about Olajumoke and her haters – Viola Okolie

“Baba God, may my Olajumoke moment come this week in Jesus Name. As I step out of my house in search of daily bread, connect me to my TY Bello of destiny.

“Anyone that will stand in the way of a Tinie Tempah allowing me to “randomly photobomb” his photo shoot in order to ensure the “essence of Lagos” is properly captured should die by fire.

“God of Elisha, send down my mega endorsement deals… from banks to online portals to estate developers, let their goodwill towards me be abundantly manifest today in Jesus Name.”



This and many other variations of the lazy man’s creed have forced themselves into our reality since the Agege bread girl walked into instant stardom on the TY Bello set early this year.

But you know, just before you slap on some extra eye shadow and paint on the lipgloss and head out onto the streets with a load of bread on your head in search of instant fame, it might be prudent to point out a few things.

There is just so much you can leave to chance. A greater percentage of what happens to you as an individual is more like a combination of some carefully laid plans and a destination you fit into.

Does it sound plausible to you that TY Bello would risk holding a photo shoot on a Lagos street without clearing the area first of Area boys and ensuring security hitches would be minimised? And then would have a random agege bread seller just wander on to the set? Just photobomb the star straight out of nowhere?

Chance would be a fine thing and I know I would be called a hater for pointing out this is just a wee bit too sleek, but hey… “may your photobombing opportunity come your way this week’.

While you wait though, remember that there are probably dozens of Agege bread sellers, just one caught the “lucky break”. It also helped tremendously that her body suited the new role she was required to play, so it all came together nicely for her.

But there can only be one random chance of that happening once in a very long while. What you can be sure happens everyday as regular as clock work is that every other Agege bread seller would go to the bakery, buy their stock for the day,  go out and make their sales and at the end of the day, have a little profit to lay by.

Slowly, these little savings begin to add up and someday, they might have saved enough to rent a better accomodation. Or buy a house even. Maybe the regular agege bread seller can begin to think of buying a small rickety vehicle and graduate from hawking bread along the streets, to actually having a shop where they vend bread from and perhaps graduate to baking their own bread sometime in the not-too-distant future.

Look around you, we have all these “Agege bread moments” going on on a regular basis all around us but we don’t recognise them because they do not sweep the beneficiary off their feet and dump them straight at the feet of instant fame.

So we jump and pass and look for the unexplainable.

The one moment of “luck”.

The TY Bello factor.

So when Papa Ngozi the vulcanizer suddenly starts coming home with a bike, we don’t notice. We don’t notice when Mallam Garba graduates from pushing a mobile supermarket round the streets to actually constructing a makeshift shop in an abandoned plot of land… we are too busy looking for the lightning strike.

Everyday in the course of regular daily living, there is a success story in the making from someone whose simple prayer might be “on my Agege bread today, please God add a bit of butter”, because Tinie Tempah opportunities are rare to find.

So, much as we like to ask God for our agege bread situation, perhaps we are already living it but are too occupied chasing happenstance to notice it.

May we never be so engrossed in running after luck that we neglect to notice when it moves into our bedroom and takes up residence there.

May we never pursue the inexplicable at the expense of the certain but most of all, if we ever walk into an agege bread moment, may the stars align in our favour and may we physically fit the requirement for instant fame.

Because if Olajumoke had been an Iya Basira, she would have received her “waka pass” fee and that would have been the end of the matter.

The rest of us would not have been saddled with this burden of struggling to restrain our cynical opinions on this implausible Cinderella story, in order not to be labelled “haters”.

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1 Comment

  1. Jane

    This is epic.Now my eyes are more opened…One shouldn’t be busy waiting for that big moment,that they overlook the small moments which sums up into the boom they’ve been hoping for.


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