Aunty Mo’s story, By Reuben Abati

Mosun Belo-Olusoga. I am Tamramat: The Fruit of God’s Mercy, 2024, 247 pp.

“EVERYTHING HAPPENS IN accordance with God’s plan and just as ordained by Him. Our course in life is charted and guided by His plans. While things may not always go as we initially intended, with benefit of hindsight, we see the wisdom of it. Maybe if everything had happened the way I wanted; married early, had children early, I probably wouldn’t be as appreciative or as devout as I am today.

  Being human, we can easily forget the role God plays when everything happens according to our expectations and plans. I’m not perfect, but I have a close relationship with God and I have a lot to be grateful to Him for.” (p. 235)

The foregoing excerpt from Mrs Mosun Belo-Olusoga’s autobiography, I am Tamramat:The Fruit of God’s Mercy, more or less summarizes the thematic focus of her reflections on her life and times, even if at 67, she is still young enough to have opportunities for further reflections in her journey of life, but within the space of 67 years so far, she offers in this book a very rich account of where she has been, how she has lived her life, the pains and the joys, the trauma and the thrill of that intensely personal, and unique journey. My immediate take is that she tells a good story, that is at once relatable, delivered in an unpretentious, convivial tone, that draws you into the narrative and compels the reader, willy-nilly to reflect on his or her own individual journey. Life after all is a journey, the only destination is death, but in-between that polarity is the stuff that defines our destiny, experience and impact. Mrs. Olusoga falls into the ranks of women in Nigeria and Africa today who literally and practically broke the limits and chains of gender, and displaced the glass ceiling to record a number of remarkable firsts that should be a source of inspiration to womankind. She has a story to tell, and it is brilliantly told. 

Mrs Olusoga, or Aunty Mo as she is more popularly known to many, is the first female Executive Director of Guaranty Trust Bank (now GT Bank); first female Director and Chairman, Board of Access Bank, first female Director, Premium Pension, first African Director, Global Banking Alliance for Women in Banking (now Financial Alliance for Women); President, Equipment Leasing Association of Nigeria (ELAN); first female Pro-Chancellor and Chairman of Council, Olabisi Onabanjo University, and first co-chair, Women Corporate Directors, Nigerian Chapter. She is also a proud recipient of two Honorary Doctorate Degrees – in Finance from Crescent University and in Accounting from Al Hikman University. With this brief profile alone, she is without question in the same class as the Amazons of Africa who have proven the strength and value of the girl-child in a continent where patriarchy predominates and the girl-child was traditionally seen in many traditional communities as a material best fit for matrimony under a man’s control. Exposure to Western education had helped to knock the stands off the stools of patriarchy especially among the Yoruba of the South West of Nigeria where the author hails from, and parents learnt early to treat every child as equal and the girl-child as an individual with inalienable rights. Aunty Mo is not alone in this category. Nigeria is a country of remarkable Amazons whose footprints have endured over the years and the times: Mrs Funmilayo Ransome Kuti, Mrs Margaret Ekpo, Hajia Gawaba Sambo and in more recent seasons, Dr Ngozi Okonjo-Iweala, Dr. Ibukun Awosika, Mrs Osaretin Demuren, Dr Dere Awosika, Mrs Oby Ezekwesili, and many who through their careers in the public space project a stronger narrative about the place of women in society. 

This is why I consider Aunty Mo’s book, a motivational and inspirational book which must be read by all the young women out there who think that their main purpose in life is to “slay”, expose as much flesh as possible to attract rich men and live a life of comfort as “a kept woman”. The likes of Aunty Mo provide better case studies for the centering of womanhood in gender studies. It is possible to be a “Disco Baby” as she once was as an undergraduate at the University of Ibadan where she got her first degree in Economics, Second Class Upper Category, and yet she went on to work at Coopers and Lybrand as an articled Accountant. There, she later qualified as a Chartered Accountant. She was winner of the first-place award for ICAN (Institute of Chartered Accountants) in the May 1983 set, and was also the Society of Women Accountants of Nigeria (SWAN) Merit Award winner for the best graduating female student in that year. Her father, who was himself a Chartered Accountant, founder of Akanji Belo and Co, a firm of Chartered Accountants, was of course proud of his daughter! Her SWAN award was handed over to her by yet another distinguished woman of history, Mrs. Toyin Olakunrin, the first female Chartered Accountant in sub-Saharan Africa and the second female President of ICAN. 

Aunty Mo sprinted forwards and faster, steadily and confidently. She would soon leave Coopers and Lybrand where she had worked since graduation as an auditor to go into banking. Her first stop was at Continental Merchant Bank -and here she quickly learned the ropes as a banker- Budget and Finance Department, Loans Syndication, Credit and Marketing. In 1990, she joined GT bank as a pioneer staff. The book assumes a different tone at this point where Aunty Mo talks about her experience at Continental Merchant Bank (CMB) and the “University of Guaranty Trust” as she refers to GT bank in the early days. This section of the book should be of interest to both males and females in any career whatsoever. Basically, in Chapters Three and Four, and in sequences, Aunty Mo narrates the story of her banking career before the rewards that came together in Chapter Eight which is instructively titled “Arriving At the Summit”. Between Chapters Three and Eight, the author shares the story of how she got to that summit. In this regard, one of my favourite quotes in this book is when she writes at page 138 that “In life you get what you put in”.  And we see a clear demonstration of this in terms of what she put into her career as a banker. This book is not just about her as a person but the story of her career. 

It is about GT bank majorly and also about Access Bank, and about all the persons who worked with her in all the departments either in Credit or Transaction Services, or on the boards where she ended up as Director or Chairman. It is a book about the building of institutions, even beyond banking. But banking is the core focus. GT Bank once decided: We must beat Citibank. “That year, we beat Citibank. We were the first bank to make one billion Naira profit in Nigeria.” (p. 85). Mrs Olusoga provides a Master Class on how to build institutions and sustain excellence. There are ample lessons here again for young persons seeking to build and excel in any career of their choice.

As Aunty Mo advised, at page 138 indeed, “in life you get what you put in”. This is an eternal law of nature. What a man sows he reaps. It is the same as well for businesses and careers. The author was so immersed in work and career, she almost forgot to marry. She had to be reminded again and again that she had been left behind on the shelf. Her youngest sister even got married 10 years before her. At one point she lived in Iyana Ipaja, and had to get to work by 6 am in Ikoyi. She would later move to Ilupeju, and go through the early commute from the Mainland to the Island. Even when she was given an official residence on the island, she had to stay behind in Ilupeju because her husband, by the way she finally left the shelf at the age of 36, did not like the idea of an official accommodation. She stood by her husband! She was right at the centre of the renaissance in the banking industry in Nigeria in the 1980s and yet privately, in her personal life, she had to play the balancing act between career and private life. There is yet another lesson here for younger women in her position who are enormously conflicted about how to strike that balance and juggle the balls, most of them curved balls, that life throws at the career-oriented woman. I would like to stress this personal tale. 

Most women are under pressure to get married but Aunty Mo is clear-minded about this and it is better to quote her directly: “The pressure to get married became even more intense,” she writes. “People said all sorts of things…One of my uncles suggested I park  my car for a while and commute by bus. “Maybe you will see somebody who will give you a lift”, he told me. It was absurd. If someone was intimidated by my car, would I forever play a role that wasn’t mine?  I tell young people today not to shrink themselves to boost someone’s fragile ego. A lot of ladies say they don’t want to appear smart, intelligent, or beautiful, in order not to intimidate men. In choosing a life partner, one has to be careful and strategic.  That’s the truth. A spouse has to be somebody who would support you and not feel insecure, even if you are earning more. I used to earn more than Ope. He was working with the Government and I was working with a bank…” Ope was her husband. He was a staff of the Ministry of Agriculture, Lagos State and a farmer. She was then an Assistant Manager at Continental Merchant Bank.  They got married in July 1993. He died before their daughter, Nadirah was born, after a long, moving struggle with IVF. 

This is also a book about family. Aunty Mo is a family person in both the nuclear and the extended sense. If you ever worked with her or grew up with her or crossed her path, and you didn’t get mentioned by her in this book, it simply means in the view of this reviewer that you did not make enough impression on her to be remembered. I should put that in context though. I mean within the time frame covered by the book, after all, hers is a living and continuing story. This review, in other words, is titled “Aunty Mo: Her Story” but this is also the story of other people, their connections with her and their humanity. Her siblings, cousins and nephews are all over the pages: her parents, uncles, family friends that became family, cousins as well as all the characters at every place where she worked, especially the ones that became family: Herbert Wigwe, Aig-Imokhuede and his wife, Ofovwe, Fola Adeola, Tayo Aderinokun. Chapter Five: “The Threads that Bind Me”, Chapter Six: “The Journeys That Ended”, and Chapter Nine: “The Fruit of God’s Mercy” are about the value of family. In Chapter Nine, the author narrates the story of how suddenly, shortly after the celebration of her 60^th birthday, she came down with a condition known as TOXIC EPIDERMAL NECROLYSIS (TEN). She was in induced coma for four months and bedridden for close to a year and she received treatment for about two years. Her family stood up for her. The characters come alive: from LB to Funlade and his wife Chris, Aunty Oyinade, Sola, Mama J, Dr. K., Toki, Queen, Herbert and Aig. The sombre moments in the book are tear-inducing because of the sheer honesty and empathy of the experience. Aunty Mo’s life is a story of trials and triumphs. 

And yet in this book, there are hearty moments for humour, wit, laughter and nostalgia that the reader can easily connect with.  For example, at page 16, there is the Indian neighbour with the waggling head and spicy curry aroma, and at page 125, the author narrates the story of how a woman who had come to commiserate with the family at her mother’s funeral in Ijebu Ode consumed a three-course meal of eba, rice and ikokore.  So she writes “…this was a woman who said my mother’s death was too bitter a pill for her to swallow. Had it not been that bitter, she probably would have swallowed more food. When we buried my father, it shocked me to realise that people could eat on such a sad occasion. When we were cooking and making provision for over a thousand guests, I believed nobody would eat. But the food was exhausted!” People ate despite being sad!” The author’s parents died decades ago. These days, families have to engage security agents to secure food items at funerals out of fear that hoodlums could storm the venue and make way with food meant for guests. Nigeria has now changed so much that at funeral parties, guests could be seen with take away packs, struggling to steal extra food. It is indeed not difficult to see how much society has changed. As a young woman, Aunty Mo grew up in a society where a woman could drive safely around the city, or trek from one village to another without fear of being molested. There was no kidnapping. In those days also, families sent their children to live with other families. Today, Nigerians have lost that sense of community. In those days, it was not a big deal to go and study abroad because Nigerian schools and universities were as good as any other in the world. When she graduated from University in those days, employers of labour were waiting to recruit fresh graduates. Most Nigerian university graduates are on the roads today in search of jobs that do not exist. 

Aunty Mo writes about projects that are dear to her heart, her life joys: she is the founder of a training consultancy – the Knowledge and Resource Centre Limited (KRC) and the secondary school she has established along the Benin-Ijebu Ode Expressway, the City of Knowledge Academy (CKA) which is building a young generation of future achievers with the ethical pillars of Culture, Character and Confidence. She also writes about her daughter, Nadirah but she is clearly maternalistic and preachy, the conservative, old-school mummy that she is, trying to cope with inter-generational differences. A good book overall, eminently readable and instructive, even though there are loud moments of silence that the author covers up. There are also a number of editorial errors as the book progresses. The publisher also forgot to insert an identity imprint nor an ISBN number. These are oversights that should be corrected in a future reprint. Nonetheless, a brilliantly written memoir, recommended enthusiastically for general reading. 

Reuben Abati, a former presidential spokesperson, writes from Lagos.