FAME’s Untold Stories: The Genesis

femi Akintunde-Johnson

Smooched by the aroma of our 60th birthday, we have elected to open a few pages of one of four books launched on Saturday, October 30 with friends and families in remote attendance. Something akin to a piece of the “customary” birthday cake. Here goes ..:

“Somewhere in mainland Lagos, sometime early in 1989, a press conference was coming to an end. As usual, the ‘boys’ were prepping for the rush for food, souvenirs and “keske” (a byword for “transport fare”, but really a grease applied by promoters of events who wanted maximum coverage of their events in the weekend pages of newspapers and magazines). And as usual with me, that was my cue to bail out of the swanky room, as I had long positioned myself to abhor anything that smelled of gratification or inducement in the cause of doing my work as a journalist.

At that moment, I was less than a year as a staff writer with the Punch Newspapers. Though there was no formal directive to refuse or resist monetary inducement in the line of duty, it was a natural obligation, perhaps honed from some undefined righteous indignation planted by my poor, but straight-as-a-jack, and hard-working parents – and possibly my extensive forays into African, western and sundry literatures. Their ennobling influences could have wrapped up for me some sort of moral code; I just couldn’t stand hustling to collect food or cash, or even ‘releases’, like vultures fighting over carrion.

So on that day in 1989, I left my colleagues behind to do the ‘needful’ as they deemed fit, and hugged the road to the Maryland bus stop – if my memory holds true. I was alone with my bag across my shoulder, in my usual baggy ‘Adire’ (batik) kaftan, and ‘Kembe’ tongs. The bohemian dress, a style largely seen as rebellious or nonchalant, had always been my favourite… bleached in sun-kissed colours of blue, brown and green… splashed on different fabrics. I’ve never been a lover of bright, glowing and incandescent hues.

See, in life and what have you, do not be afraid to seek what makes you comfortable, what speaks to your desires…do not bow to the expectations of others who are not relevant to your history or trajectory; who do not determine nor frame how and where you express your gift, talent, enterprise or industry. But I was not really alone.

I noticed a young good-looking chap, who was also at the press conference, now walking, a few meters behind me, towards Maryland. He seemed different from most because of his quietness and dressing. He was smartly dressed, as I recollect, and walked in a singsong manner – like someone whose gait was tempered by the music in his head. Instinctively, we began chatting when I found out he also didn’t want to partake of the ‘messy manoeuvres’ of our colleagues. Yet, he was working with one of the general-interest magazines that we, newspaper puff-adders, regarded somewhat poorly. And we hit it off smoothly. A new friendship was born.

His name was Olakunle Sikiru Bakare. He didn’t want to be called ‘SB’…rather, he chose the more tonal ‘KB’ (meaning Kunle Bakare).

Meeting Isiaka Mayowa Abiodun Akinpelu (better known as Mayor Akinpelu) was a little woolly, simply because I met him as Kunle’s friend and senior colleague. On a few occasions that we met at parties, Vintage offices or on assignments, he gave off a stand-offish, flighty and unpretentious image. I was not a quick judge, for I had been called pompous, arrogant and scheming, essentially because I would not be dragged into needless public arguments, would not start a conversation with a friendly stranger, nor engage in raunchy ribaldry… for whatever reasons. Well, so I assumed.

However, perhaps because we had similar temperaments, we didn’t seem to gel at the beginning – that was mid 1989. When they say it’s not right to judge a book by its cover, they probably didn’t have in mind the books of this millennium. Subsequent descriptions would prove clearly whether that aphorism is true or not.

What stood out for me was Mayor’s garrulous confidence in his art-form, and the surprising steady flow of cash that he had no problem flashing while paying for this or that. He also appeared reluctant to embrace me as a friend until much later, after repeated contacts, and several chats – a cautious approach that was mutual.

IDEATION PROCESS

There may be the possibility that three stories emerge on how the idea or the concept of FAME began; but to the best of my recall capacity, this is the story. I had been a little amazed how news bits and ‘gossips’ that would only take a maximum of three inches across two columns (of a six-column newspaper page) in our weekly strip (earlier called Whispers, that I later changed to ‘Goldfish’ and ‘Basketmouth’ respectively), the same story – with a little embellishment and some interrogatories – would be splashed across the cover pages of Vintage People, or its older rival, Prime People. And they were mostly hot potatoes at the newsstands! Of course, my newspaper, the Saturday Punch was a staple, and the centre spread entertainment pull out (called Saturday Highlife, SH) was the star-light!

A peculiar story would explain my dilemma quite vividly. Sometime in 1989, a good source hinted to me that the boisterously popular former civil war leader and leading politician, Chief Chukwuemeka Odumegwu-Ojukwu (then 56) was romantically entangled with the then current Most Beautiful Girl in Nigeria, and Miss Africa, Bianca Onoh (who was barely 21). It was a massive gist for anyone else, but it would still not take more than three inches, and a little more, on the sidelines of SH.

In one of our chats, I let Kunle into the secret, and like ants on sugar, he swarmed over me and the gist; he wanted more info, details I didn’t bother to drag out from my source. He pleaded with me to step down the story, and introduce him to my source. He must have promised me something refreshing: like my favourite bottles of Stout and Coke, plus a large wrap of Suya….

(Excerpts from my latest memoir, ‘FAME: Untold Stories of its Rise & Fall’ – November, 2021 – Amazon/Kindle/Lulu – 354 pages)