- Former OSUN Governor, Prince OLAGUNSOYE OYINLOLA Reveals
- As Wife Publishes New Book
Former Osun State Governor, Prince Olagunsoye Oyinlola who recently gave out his last daughter, Olayinka, in marriage to the Okunowos, has shed light on how he met his pretty wife, Omolola over 40 years ago.
Prince Oyinlola, who was reacting to an earlier story published by the City People on the issue said it was not true that he met his wife at a party in Maiduguri. He explained that the reporter should have spoken with him or his wife before writing the report in other to avoid the embarrassing inadequacies contained in the story.
“I met her at St Nicholas Hospital, Lagos owned by her uncle, Dr Moses Majekodunmi. I had a niece, Iyabo, who worked in their hospital. So, when I saw her, I told Iyabo, my elder sister’s daughter and she said, ah! Uncle, this one is wife material and I said Yes, I know, and I am serious. I was attracted to her by her posture and conduct. I saw a very quiet, easy going girl. She wasn’t the party going type. She is still very much reserved, preferring Church to parties. We got talking and eventually got married on July 1, 1978. ”
While also saying that the City People report did not get the names of his children right, Oyinlola noted that the magazine, in error, named one of his brother’s children as his.
“The union will be 40 years old next year. And we thank God that we are blessed with 4 children- all girls: Olufunmilayo, Olubukola, Oyindamola and Olayinka, who got married a couple of days ago,” Oyinlola said.
His wife has also published a 40 page book on their marriage. Titled Who Feels It, Knows It, Princess Omolola Oyinlola revealed how she fell in love with her husband. She wrote: “Every family has a story. Every family has a beginning. My family story and beginning can be traced to the event of 1 July 1978. That was the. day I aligned myself to the Royal Palace of Okuku by marrying one of their sons, Prince Olagunsoye Oyinlola. It is well-known that the African marriage and family system has unique structures and deep cultural roots. By design, the African marriage transcends the individuals in the marriage contract. It unites individuals, families, and communities. There are socio-cultural and gender imperatives to consider. Apart from the dictates of culture and the personal responsibilities of marriage, the
essential quality and world view of my family were shaped by a decision my husband took nine years before our marriage. As a young prince, he had taken the unusual step then of joining the army. That date was 3 September 1969. And that decision was to have an overriding effect on our family life and everything we ever did afterwards. As every soldier’s wife knows, being married to a military man has its frills and chills. Sometimes it gives a sense of power, of security, and knowing the military institution so well without the personal obligation imposed by a direct commission. On the other hand, being married to a soldier sometimes seems like an albatross, a cross almost too heavy to carry. A soldier’s wife is a lady under indirect orders and secondary deployment. The soldier takes the direct orders and complies automatically with documented evidence; the wife takes her orders indirectly from the same army authorities and also complies even though she may be unseen and her compliance undocumented. She is often asked to yield her husband and, in complying, her heart and whole being naturally follow him wherever he is deployed. Sometimes she can follow; sometimes she can’t. The soldier’s wife has her duties at home in addition to her career. But beyond these, another duty is thrust upon her by the constant movement of her husband and the sheer risks attendant upon his career. It was no different with me.
Any lady faced with this kind of situation normally has two channels open to her: She either worries herself sick or she learns to adjust and sustain herself and family with prayers. When I arrived at those inconvenient junctures or our family life, I chose the latter option. As a Christian, I had learnt the virtues of prayer early and have since made prayer an essential part of my life. My marriage and the circumstances of our family made it an added obligatior for me to take my family issues personally to God. I’ve never had a crowd of friends and so do not have too many humar counsellors. I made a deliberate effort to grow in faith and to unburden my heart on the altar of God. This gives me a serenity I couldn’t find elsewhere. I made myself a true seeker of God and an available vessel of service in His house. Deep within me, I felt a need to establish such contact and relationship with God that if I sought Him earnestly, at an) time, I could find Him. I never prepared for anything like an earth-shaking experience; it never occurred to me that I might need God to show up for me in an emergency. I was content to keep a healthy relationship with Him and trust Him enough to keep my loved ones and me safe from trouble and to meet me at the points of my needs. That is why the event that constitutes the subject of this little book hit me like a thunderbolt. When the crash of thunder lands on a mighty tree, the impact can be devastating. The impact of such exoerience as relaved in this volume can consume one.
I am eternally grateful to God that though the experience tested my faith, it did not succeed in destroying it.
My husband was a Captain in the Nigerian Army in 1978 when we got married. Before then, I was living in Lagos while he was based in Ibadan. We eventually made our home first in Ibadan and then he was moved to Nsukka in 1980 as the Commanding Officer of the 211 Tank Battalion. The family naturally moved with him, and we were together in Nsukka till 1982 when the whole battalion was relocated to Barna in Borno State. Again, we made Barna our habitation and continued life there. The next posting took my husband down south to Ikeja Cantonment, and so we were back in our familiar surroundings in Lagos. If I was pleased with this posting, I knew it was temporary, especially for a man barely in his mid-career. His next assignment could take him anywhere, and there was nothing anyone could do about it. As it turned out, the next posting was to the serene city of Jos, and the whole family dutifully moved with him to the famous tin city. By that time my husband had risen to the rank of a Lt -Colonel. Our family had grown larger, and it was beginning to look as if we might need to find a base to stay instead of moving in every direction of the compass at the command of army headquarters. Jos was a hospitable municipality. (It still is despite the many eruptions of violence and bloodletting of late.) The people are peaceable and accommodating. We felt so much at home in Jos that it soon became a special sort of home for us that we entertained making it a permanent abode as long as my husband’s transfers across the northern states of Nigeria persisted. It was a central location and had one of the best climatic conditions in the whole of the North. I’d never been an outgoing person and really didn’t have a place in a crowd. My circle of intimate friends remained small. It included Mrs Soroye, an Air Force officer’s wife, and a more elderly lady called Mrs Bimbo Oyegoke. Our life in Jos would have followed the same quiet routine we had always had in other Nigerian towns and cities but for the events of March 1993 which jolted us beyond our comprehension. Actually, March 1993 would have had no meaning for me if there was no December 1992 because what happened in March had its conception and incubation in the previous December. Also, if we are privileged to know how the actions we take or do not take will affect our lives, we would all exercise more care and circumspection in everything we do. I didn’t know it then, but I now know that every action is a provoker both of the good and the not-so- good. I also know now that nothing provokes a physical reaction or manifestation more than a spiritual seed or trigger. Once’ you pull the trigger, expect something to happen. How do I know? Logicians say you cannot place something on nothing. For something to manifest physically, it has to be propelled into existence somehow either by default or design. Every blessing or miracle we- ever desire from God is already in existence. It is because it already exists in our imagination that we can place a demand on it. Where it is not in open manifestation, it nevertheless exists as a seed – a spiritual seed. That is why the Scripture says, “Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who hath blessed us with all spiritual blessings in heavenly places in Christ” (Ephesians 1:3). This means that every blessing or miracle exists-first as a spiritual blessing before it is processed into a physical reality. Nothing manifests in our world of matter without first manifesting in a spiritual state or existence. Therefore, to convert our dreams to realities takes a spiritual processing. Many conceived dreams do not result in testimonies.
They die as mere wishes because there are no wombs to nurture them to survival. This is the lesson that I learnt from the story I am about to share. What I’m about to share with you here is one of the most mind-blasting experiences I’ve ever had. It took God Himself to help me out. If you ask me, I’d say three words summarized my experience: thunderbolt, faith, and miracle. When thunder strikes, the world knows it in an instant. When we are left to a strictly regimented menu of faith, the bitter pill is hard to swallow. But when the miracle happens you feel you don’t have a voice loud enough to shout your praise! I experienced all these and learnt one major lesson in the process, namely, that our tests and trials as Christians never mature into testimonies unless they are nurtured in the spiritual womb of our faith. Another lesson God has taught me over the years is that nothing happens by chance. Our lives are shaped by, and ultimately become a product of, the choices we do or do not make. Do you remember the woman with the issue of blood? She made a decision to be healed ever before coming in contact with Jesus (Mk 5:25-34). If there is any lesson to be learnt from her life, it is that we can decide, control and attract specific miracles into our lives by travelling in the same vehicle of faith that she did. This becomes possible when we propose in our hearts what we want from God and dare to stick it out in faith no matter the odds. This little book tells the story of the most profound personal experience I have had on the subject of faith. It is a story that both touches and teaches that our spiritual wombs of faith will always produce seeds of miracles if we dare to exercise it in righteousness.