Johnson Akinpelumi, widely recognized by his stage name Francis Akintade, is a distinguished figure in traditional music. Famed for his philosophical lyrics and enchanting melodies, he has charted a remarkable course through the complexities of life without the privilege of formal education. In this exclusive conversation, Akinpelumi shares his insights on his artistic journey, the cultural significance of his music, and the challenges he has faced along the way.
Tunde Akingbondere: In What Year Did You Start Singing And Why Did You Prefer Music of All Jobs?
I can’t recall the exact date, but I can share a few details with you, especially since you’re from my hometown. Many have approached me wanting to converse, but I tend to shy away from the spotlight; I’m quite averse to publicity. My musical journey began at Ehinpeti, where it all felt like child’s play back in the day. During the Ogun festival, we would gather at a local hotel or a strategic spot, bringing out our gongs and playing music until dawn. There were four of us, singing and collecting a few kobos here and there. With no job opportunities available, and having pursued some education without further sponsorship, music became my outlet.
Tunde Akingbondere: What Level of Education Do You Have?
I had the opportunity to join the inaugural class of Olofin Anglican Grammar School, having successfully passed the entrance examination, but I couldn’t. I also cleared the exams for Gboluji Grammar School and Okitipupa Boys’ High School. However, my education was largely dependent on my guardian—my father’s brother—after my father’s passing.
In 1957, as we approached graduation, my guardian’s two children did not pass, leaving me as the only successful candidate. He implored me to wait for them so we could all graduate together in the same class. At the time, I was unsure how to respond to this request, but I ultimately agreed.
In 1959, my mother enrolled me in a modern school, borrowing money to do so. One day, while we were in the kitchen preparing water for garri, a creditor arrived, demanding repayment. Frustrated, she exclaimed, “Bastards! They haven’t paid me, and they expect dinner.” In her anger, she threw the water off the fire, prompting me to cry.
The following year, my mother borrowed money again, but upon reaching Alade, I decided I didn’t want to put her through more hardship. I returned the money and declined to resume school, opting instead to stay with my aunt in Bajare. There, Akintade, Ayeni, and I began performing with firelight and gongs during the Ogun festival. We would sing as if we were children, often surprised by the money we made overnight. I naturally took the lead while the others formed the chorus.
We continued this for about three months before realizing we needed to consult someone to determine the band’s leader. An elder in Odo Owa, reputed to have spiritual insight, was recommended. Despite my skepticism of such beliefs, we went to him. He began throwing kolanuts while chanting names.
Ayeni’s name was called, and he was instructed to step aside. When my name was thrown, one of the kolanuts flew as far as Saudi Arabia, and I was told to leave, which filled me with joy since I had never intended to become a musician. When it was Francis Akintade’s turn, he was declared the divinely ordained leader and captain of our band. That was the beginning of our journey.
Tunde Akingbondere: So, You Are Not Francis Akintade?
No, I am not. I am his younger brother; he is my mother’s younger sibling. I never intended to become the captain, though I naturally took on the role of lead singer. This began during my school days, where I participated in various activities as a presenter and Master of Ceremonies. The late Blessing Kayode recognized my singing talent and encouraged me to embrace this commitment.
Our journey continued until we performed at another Ogun festival in Ondo, where our new musical style astonished the audience.
After the festival, as I returned home to prepare for my plant-breeding job, some visitors arrived with an invitation for another performance in Ondo. I hesitated, explaining that I couldn’t leave my job and had a boss I worked with every Saturday. They mentioned that my boss had given them my address, so I agreed to go with them, informing my friend Olaborede, who encouraged me to join.
Upon arriving in Ondo, we stayed at Mayflower Hotels, Odo Jomo, performing from 4 PM until 4 AM. Our time there attracted many visitors, and eventually, we decided to formally register our music production business.
I was the only one among the group with some education, so I suggested we register, believing our music could reach beyond Nigeria. We completed the registration in Ondo, receiving the identification number 10438.
As fate would have it, we reached the point of recording. Koroja was still alive then, but when I approached him, he asked for N180, which I couldn’t afford. While performing at the Mayflower Hotel, two guests, Henry and Adisa, who were staying upstairs, enjoyed our music so much that they asked the bar man, Mike, to help them persuade the hotel proprietor, Aduke Oluwatoyin, to let us record.
She assured them that she would discuss it with us after our performance.
After we finished playing, she called me over and presented the recording offer. I was thrilled and accepted immediately. We recorded that day, and when they played it for us, we were overjoyed. They later informed us that we would be invited to Lagos for another audition, where experts would assess our work, and if successful, we might be called back.
At that time, many local drivers had become our supporters, frequently visiting our hotel. Within a week, we received an invitation to Lagos, having passed the initial assessment. The drivers generously provided us with a bus, fueled it, and offered stipends for food, sponsoring our trip.
Upon arriving in Lagos, we underwent another audition, essentially recreating our Ondo performance. To our surprise, we were told to return home and await further communication, as we would still need to go through another assessment.
After returning to Ondo, we received another letter asking us to return on a specified date. The drivers again supported us. In Lagos, we recorded our music, and upon completion, it was presented to a group of white individuals. I was so elated that I momentarily lost track of my surroundings and left the gathering to celebrate with a drink.
When it came time to sign the contract, our captain, Akintade, was suggested as the signer, but the representatives rejected him and the deputy. They requested to see me instead, which was unexpected, as no one anticipated that the youngest member would be chosen. It took the others about 30 minutes to find me at the bar. When they finally located me, they urged me to come back, and I felt a mix of shock and anxiety, fearing that the deal might have fallen through.
Upon my arrival, the representatives expressed their happiness and asked me to sign. I was hesitant and insisted that the captain should sign instead. However, they persisted, and with the encouragement of the band leaders, I agreed to sign.
They asked me several questions, including whether the idea was politically motivated, to which I replied no. After satisfactorily answering their inquiries, I signed the contract, thus being appointed as the band leader.
Following this leadership recognition, many of my original bandmates from Idanre began to leave one by one. I remained unfazed and set out to recruit more professional musicians in Ondo. That’s how I ultimately assumed the role of captain, though I still didn’t fully see myself in that position.
Unfortunately, there are still song but there are no backup singers.
Tunde Akingbondere: Was He Angry Because You Suddenly Became the Boss?
No, he was never angry. He did mention that someone had been rude to him that year, but he never shared the details with me. As his younger brother, I can assure you he didn’t harbor any resentment. He simply chose to step away from music. It wasn’t just him; others also left, and eventually, I found myself surrounded by unfamiliar faces.
Tunde Akingbondere: Can You Tell Us About the Places Where You Have Sung?
It’s hard to count them all. I spent many years performing in Lagos and Abuja, and I’ve sung in towns where my language isn’t even spoken. They even referred to me as Sunny Ade’s dad.
Tunde Akingbondere: Are You Older Than Sunny Ade?
Yes, I am older. Even if he were here right now, he would show me respect. I hold deep affection for him, both in life and in death. He is not a proud person.
Tunde Akingbondere: What’s Your Relationship With Orlando Owoh, Sunny Ade, and Others?
Our relationships are mutual and supportive. During Babangida’s regime, when PMAN was established, it brought us all together. However, Orlando eventually moved to Lagos.
