Prof. Olukunle Iyanda at 85: A Leader’s Legacy is People, not Monuments

By Tunde Ojo

 

Prof. Olukunle Iyanda is a globally recognised academic with an extensive list of accolades.  His leadership in serving both the academia and industry could fill books or warrant a monument erected in his name. However, as inspiring as that reputation is, it is his humanity — better described as humaneness — that makes him endlessly endearing.

Here is an intellectual giant without pretentions, who has transformed a simple lifestyle into an art form. He is a well-branded Ibadan man with tribal marks, yet free from provincial tendencies. A refined gentleman, both in substance and style. A man with a strong sense of fairness and justice. A God-fearing individual. A great mentor and role model. He turns 85 today.

I owe God an eternal debt of gratitude for bringing us together. God brought him into my life at a most crucial time, both academically and in other life-shaping events. I will mention one or two, trusting that they are sufficient enough to paint, at best, a sketchy portrait of his noble spirit.

In 1980, armed with my recently released Higher School Certificate with high points, which qualified me for admission into the University of Lagos to study Mass Communication, I travelled to Lagos for the first time, highly confident of success in processing my admission.

I returned to Ibadan with the certainty of finding my name on the admission list in due time. The first list was released, and my name was missing from it. I waited for the second list. When it came out, my name was still missing. My idealism about university admission based on merit evaporated. The image of the nation I grew up in, where merit mattered, had crumbled, and a new, yet grim, reality of Nigeria was dawning on me. A nightmare at noon. Who do I turn to? Where do I go next? My mind raced with endless questions, and answers seemed very distant. My father had never needed to ask anyone for help to get me into any educational institution, I thought. He never believed in it. For example, he put me on a bus alone to travel to Ado-Ekiti to attend the admission examination of Christ School, the longest journey of my teenage life.

I returned to Ibadan. Thanks to my mother, a woman who never spent a day in school for formal education (by the way, that’s how to phrase it if you don’t want to call your dear mother an “illiterate”), but who is a strong advocate for education. I collected a letter from Chief Oshunkunle, a highly influential and benevolent government official in Ibadan, addressed to Prof. Olukunle Iyanda.  Upon receiving the letter (which I had never bothered to read), Prof. Iyanda instructed me to write a petition to the Vice Chancellor, attach a copy of my results, and submit a copy of the letter to him, leaving the rest to his discretion. I shivered at the thought of writing a petition to the Vice Chancellor. Although I had read some literature on protest and resistance, I was not prepared to start my university education on a note of activism, but he insisted, so I yielded.

Weeks passed.

While the waiting endured, I secured a job as an English and literature-in-English teacher in a village secondary school near Ibadan. I was just about to settle into the apartment I had been allocated when my admission came through. My name was on the supplementary list.

What did Prof. Iyanda find? My file was labeled “awaiting results.” Someone in the admissions office had ripped my results sheets from my file, perhaps with a sinister plan to replace me with another candidate. God used Prof. Iyanda’s intervention to save my admission. I was introduced to his sense of justice and integrity, which I later came to know is the hallmark of the Iyanda family.

That episode could have changed the course of my life and career. From then on, I became a member of the Iyanda family. And that has come with enormous privileges.

I lived in their boys’ quarters at Ozolua Road on the University campus and ate their food for free as both an undergraduate and a postgraduate, and even after I started my career as a young advertising executive.

Prof. (whom I call uncle) and his amiable wife, Aunty Omotola, never placed a burden on me. I was an “S.U.” (Scripture Union) Christian, full of exuberant faith in their home, but they never imposed on my conscience. They welcomed my fiancée, Adora (Ada), a girl from another tribe, into the family, despite my mother’s difficulty in understanding the reasoning behind her son’s decision to marry an Igbo girl.

The entire Iyanda family played a significant role when Adora and I got married. All of them were there for us, providing support in both cash and kind. It was shortly before my wedding that I moved out of their accommodation. As if that was not enough, Prof. Iyanda ensured that my wife got a job as a teacher with the Lagos State Government, where she built a highly fulfilling and award-winning career. Before then, she had been job hunting for about three years.

Uncle and Aunty Omotola were great role models of family values and intentional childrearing; their children are all successful.

You can never be close to him without knowing what separates intellectuals from the rest of the world. When I asked him for books for my admission to post-graduate studies in Mass Communication with a specialisation in PR and Advertising, I was expecting marketing books. Still, he gave me The Republic of Plato and advised that all I needed first was to learn to how to think. The Republic is one of my prized possessions today.

One day, while still living with them, I came down with hepatitis, and it could have claimed my life. I will never forget how Prof. and Aunty took over my medical care at the university health centre and paid the bills. Without them being the extended hands of God, I would not have had the opportunity to write this tribute. I am grateful.

When it comes to leadership legacy, leaders often envision projects or monuments as memorials of their achievements. However, Dan Owolabi, the Executive Director of Branches Worldwide, offered a different perspective. Speaking on this topic at the Global Leadership Summit (GLS) in Chicago last August, he urged the audience of around 7,000 leaders to consider the question, “Who is my legacy?” instead of “What is my legacy?”

In addition to his academic laurels and numerous accomplishments, Prof. Olukunle Iyanda’s leadership legacy is the people that he has raised, and they are not limited to his students.

I believe that I am one of them.

 

 

Share This