Nigeria is a fascinating country — a bubbling laboratory of paradoxes where the unexpected, the unreasonable, and the unbelievable rise every morning before the sun itself wakes. But even for a nation accustomed to oddities, what I saw today left me weak. I woke up expecting nothing more than the usual — fuel scarcity, political theatrics, or a minister caught doing gymnastics with public funds. But alas! What assaulted my eyes on newspaper pages, WhatsApp statuses, and social media alleys was an avalanche — no, a tsunami — of praises raining upon Chief Wole Olanipekun, SAN, simply because he turned 74. Seventy-four. Just 74!
Is he the first Nigerian to clock 74? The first SAN to clock 74? The first Ikere-born lawyer to see 74 harmattans? When Lawyer XYZ clocked 90, did Nigeria tremble? When Lawyer ABC reached 80, did Facebook sneeze? So why is this particular man causing earthquakes? Why is Ikere vibrating, Nigeria bending, and news outlets stretching their headlines as if a new constitution has just been signed? I asked myself these questions until the answer hit me with the force of revelation: Chief Wole Olanipekun is guilty. Very guilty. Criminally, unforgivably guilty. And at 74, he deserves no felicitation — he deserves interrogation.
First, he commits the offence of building too much for his hometown. Who sent him to build a 1,700-seat church auditorium? Who asked him to construct a High Court Complex in Ikere as though he is the Ministry of Justice? Who begged him to equip hospitals with an amenity ward and an ambulance? In a country where many big men only build fences and photo-ops, Chief Wole insists on building legacies. A crime. A terrible crime.
Then there is the disturbing issue of scholarships. Since 1996, he has given scholarships to over 3,000 students. Why? Is he trying to intimidate other philanthropists? Is he the Federal Ministry of Education? His Law School bursaries have turned poor students into lawyers — even those who once misspelled “tort” now quote Lord Denning with boldness. I am not ashamed to add that I too once received a ₦250,000 Law School bursary from him. This is no ordinary kindness; this is economic sabotage of poverty.
As if that is not enough, he refuses to collect allowances for public service. Pro-Chancellor of UI — no allowance. Chairman of Court of Governors — no allowance. In a country where some people collect estacode for sleeping in their own houses, how can one man be doing free labour? Is he trying to embarrass the rest of us?
And then the man builds university facilities as if he owns CBN. A 420-seater auditorium at UI. A magnificent VC’s Lodge at Ajayi Crowther University. An ICT Centre at Amoye Grammar School. Why can’t he sit down and be a normal Nigerian big man? Why does he invest in institutions instead of investing in vanity?
Even worse is his reckless empowerment of young lawyers. Cars. Laptops. Scholarships. Professional tools. Why empower widows, orphans, and young lawyers quietly, without inviting cameras? If all big men behave like this, how will Nigeria’s ecosystem of suffering survive?
The most frightening crime of all is his incurable medical condition. Let the world hear the truth: Chief Wole Olanipekun suffers from Stage 5 Acute Philanthropitis — a disease of excessive kindness, a cancer of compassion, a tumour of generosity, highly infectious. He caught it at birth. It metastasised at Akanbi Oniyangi Chambers. It reached malignant stage when he began building human beings instead of building noise. Till today, no herbalist, oncologist or psychiatrist has found a cure. Some of us even attempted to envy him to death — the man refused to die.
So why felicitate a man who raised the honour of Ikere more than everyone combined? Who mentored lawyers who now bestride the legal hemisphere? Who saved universities, empowered widows, rescued students, funded institutions, shaped justice without seeking applause? Who became SAN at 38, NBA President, Pro-Chancellor, Chairman Body of Benchers — and still wears humility like a second skin? Why celebrate someone whose heart is so golden that even his enemies feel uncomfortable hating him?
Let me confess like Augustine before the altar: those who insult him do so because they cannot be him; those who envy him do so because they cannot catch up; those who lie against him do so because truth is too heavy for their tongues. As for me, I have repented. I dare not provoke the wrath of heaven. For I now know — as all Nigeria knows — that whom God has blessed, not even a committee of jealous humans can curse.
Kare ooo, Oga Wole Olanipekun. Omo Olosunta Orun Ikere.
Omo Olokemeji tako tabo.
Omo agunyan pupa falejo ninu awo tangaran.
Omo udodobale Ori Uta.
Kare ooo, Asiwaju Ikere.
Kare ooo, Akoni Asofin.
Kare ooo, Oga mi l’Aiye.
So on this matter of felicitation at 74, I repeat with all seriousness within me: Do not felicitate Chief Wole Olanipekun. Instead, study him. Learn from him. Fear for Nigeria if we ever run out of men like him. And if you know a healer who can cure him of this chronic disease of giving, please inform me. Until then, the man will continue — dangerously — to bless humanity.
May he live long.
May he enjoy the best of health.
May his generations never know shame, for he has rescued multitudes from shame.
“A great man is not celebrated because he lived long, but because he lived well — and made others live better.”
