Olajumoke Orisaguna: The Nigerian Cinderella By Reuben Abati

About three weeks ago, 27-year old Olajumoke Orisaguna

was a complete unknown on the streets of Lagos, hawking

bread. A loaf of bread is about N100, and even with a full

tray such as she carried in her first public embrace of fame,

her whole ware for a day may not be more than N3,000,

with daily profit between N300-N700.

She had trained as a hair stylist, got married but had to

leave her husband and a daughter back home in Ire, Osun

state, to “hustle” as it were in Lagos. The life of a bread

seller in Lagos is easily imaginable: exposure to the

elements, to sundry abuse, including the possibility of being

raped by unruly artisans and bachelors, who will offer to

buy bread and something else along with it, if the hawker is

willing. This was Olajumoke Orisaguna’s reality until she

ran into TY Bello and Tinie Tempah and her life changed.

Today, she has been enrolled as a model. Her story has

appeared in all newspapers, on CNN, Huffington Post, and

virtually everywhere online.

Two companies: StanbicIBTC and PayPorte have made her

their brand ambassador. The former even awarded her two

daughters scholarships up to university level. Her face has

appeared on the cover of magazines. She is now a student

at Poise Finishing School, an intern with two beauty salons,

and a motivational speaker, even if she reportedly can’t

speak English. When she went to the office of the National

Identity Management Commission to get an identity card,

NIMC also cashed in on her new found fame to use her to

promote the agency: “Olajumoke knows she needs to NIMC.

She walked into a NIMC centre yesterday unsolicited.

Olajumoke is smart. Be like her.” This must be the most

saccharine endorsement of Olajumoke so far.

To crown it all, a construction company has given her a

luxury apartment in Lagos. From hawking bread in Agege,

she is now within weeks, the darling of corporate Nigeria,

the poster girl for corporate social responsibility, a landlady,

and a role model. She had probably never seen the inside of

an aircraft, but a few days ago, she was on a flight to Abuja

to give a speech!

Mrs Orisaguna is Nigeria’s Cinderella. Hers is a sudden,

unplanned, unexpected, unprepared for grass to grace, rags

to riches story, a kind of I–just-dey-waka-my-own-jeje-luck-

come-jam-me-tale. It doesn’t happen everyday. It is the

kind of accident that many Nigerians seek: accidental fame

and fortune. It is perhaps the magical, miraculous, I-don’t

believe-it-but-it-is-true quality of this story that has

captured the public imagination.

Olajumoke was hawking her bread innocently in Sabo, when

she stumbled upon a photo session by that gifted mother of

twins, artist and photographer, TY Bello, working on a series

of shots for the international hip hop star, Tinie Tempah. We

have been told that Olajumoke Orisaguna “photobombed”

herself into the activity. I guess she just happened to walk

by trying to sell bread, and TY Bello who is a spirit in action

when she is at work, had a brain wave and took her

picture. Enormously creative, T Y Bello thinks on her feet.

When she has that her big camera in her hands, she is an

agile, inventive artist.

Her camera is a weapon for interpreting space and reality,

and for discovering new meanings. It must have occurred

to her that asking the international musician to pose with a

bread seller would give the picture a much deeper meaning,

inherent in the open contrasts and auto-suggestions. It is

that split second decision that has turned Jumoke

Orisaguna into a superstar. The shot was brilliant, the result

was impressive with people asking: “Who is that girl? She

will make a good model.” TY Bello took on the challenge,

and became Olajumoke Orisaguna’s promoter, mentor,

adviser, godmother, and supporter, taking her to new

heights within three weeks . Nobody is talking about

Tempah, the main subject of the photo shoot; the focus is

on the wanderer who walked onto the set, the bread seller

who has taken the bread of the show, the waka-pass who

became the star. I understand Tempah is quite happy; don’t

be surprised then if he composes a special song soon, titled

“The Bread Seller!” or “Photobombed” or simply “Olajumoke.”

The Olajumoke Orisaguna story is a perfect demonstration

of the witchcraft quality of photography and that single

shot that has changed a life may well be one of TY Bello’s

most remarkable efforts in her chosen genre. But I find

around Olajumoke’s sudden transformation from person to

brand, too much capitalist hypocrisy and opportunism. The

brand is selling like hot cake, but the person needs

protection. I feel for her. I fear for her. There is a sense in

which she is a potential victim. The brand experts now

taking her from place to place probably would not have

even patronized her. They don’t eat the kind of bread that

she sold.

Many of them don’t even know what part of Lagos is called

Sabo. They don’t buy their bread from hawkers; they would

rather go to supermarkets or confectionery stores. Before

luck smiled on this young lady, many of those now posing

for photos with her would never have noticed her presence.

There are definitely many of her type, still hawking bread, or

some other items, some even sitting in front of the bank,

with a baby strapped to the back, but they may never be

noticed or helped. The same companies that are using

Olajumoke to talk about corporate social responsibility, are

actually joking, they know that this is not CSR; it is brand

exploitation!

And it may not last. There is nothing in Olajumoke’s

background or exposure that has prepared her for the life of

glitz being imposed on her. The skills she has acquired as

a bread seller and hair stylist may not carry her far in the

cruel world of modeling. When this blitz is over, she will

need to compete for jobs and attention, if she must remain

a model. She will have to learn sooner or later, to survive on

her own. She will have to maintain the luxury apartment

that she has been given. She has been taught fancy

dressing, including the magic of make up and those magical

colours that change a dull face into a phallus-teasing one

do not come cheap.

She is at best an art work that other people have created:

she has been made up into a siren, her hitherto dull skin

now glows, in one photo, her hair had a queenly allure, they

have given her new clothes, jazzing her up, to look feminine

and sensual, and they have taught her how to smile in a

tempting manner. Wow. That smile! The sorry part of it all

is that her narrative is quite innocent and hauntingly brief,

as is the case with all overnight sensations. The capitalist

hypocrites will soon find something else to excite them, just

as the media will find a new story. It probably would have

been much better to help Olajumoke Orisaguna set up a

small-scale business, to take her off the street-life of

hawking, rather than this world of sharks into which she

has been thrown. Perhaps the best that has been done for

her is sending her on internship at beauty salons. She could

at least set up a beauty salon of her own and live happily

thereafter.

In a normal society, no young woman should be on the

streets hawking bread in order to survive. In a normal

society, Olajumoke Orisaguna would have been given the

opportunity to go to school, and have a proper career. She

is being given, all within three weeks, the kind of

empowerment that society has denied her and many like

her, but how about all the other Olajumokes who may never

“photobomb” their way to luck? Her new life is a reminder

of what she could have been but which she could not

become because of the kind of society in which she has

found herself. She should never have had to hawk bread to

support her husband and children.

Her husband! Yes, Mr. Sunday Orisaguna. I have seen him

in the photographs, either carrying their baby, or just putting

up appearance. He looks lost, confused, overwhelmed,

harassed and uncertain. He must be wondering what has

happened or is happening to the woman he married. There

is a clear difference between Olajumoke, the wife and bread

seller, and Olajumoke, the model and celebrity. While

Olajumoke is beginning to wear designer clothes, her

humble husband is still managing his one-day-me-too-go-

jam-luck attires. His wife has been sent to finishing school.

By the time she finishes, I hope her new persona will not

finish her marriage.

Olajumoke is now learning to speak English, but her

husband is a humble, sliding door installer who probably

speaks only Yoruba. In our kind of society, given the social

level and cultural background of the parties involved, it

won’t be long before the demons will begin to crawl out of

the woods, from in-laws who may begin to psycho-analyse

Olajumoke, to family members who will scrutinize her every

gesture, and friends with whom she hawked bread and has

now left behind.

Lack of clarity over role interpretation and the new persona

could also confuse the young mother. She needs a different

set of skills to manage new relationships, especially the

new friends coming her way, including those lecherous

uncles who may show up and seek to exploit her

innocence. The people turning her into a sex symbol should

also tarry a while, and remember that she is a married

mother of two. She needs counseling. And her sliding door

installer husband, who has featured in her fairytale so far

as a hanger-on, no matter what happens, should not be

made to slide away. Sunday Orisaguna should also be

counseled, given new clothes, taught English and sent to

finishing school. He should not be left behind.