Creative Producer | Showrunner | IP Lawyer & Strategist AbOriginal Productions • Okhai Akhigbe & Co Story. Structure. Ownership.
Lagos, Nigeria
Joined May 2009
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Creators build culture.
Ownership builds legacy.
Structure protects value.
My work sits at the intersection of all three.
Ikhane Akhigbe retweeted
A few months ago, my grammar was not particularly great, especially here on X.
Then, one beautiful morning, I received a call from Dr. Oby Ezekwesili ( @obyezeks ) that changed that aspect of my life forever.
She advised me to go back to Primary 3 and rebuild my foundation in English.
She said something profound: Once you fix the foundation, everything else begins to fall into place.
I took her advice wholeheartedly. I went back to study Primary 3 Grammar and Comprehension, and that simple decision transformed my command of English.
I remain deeply grateful to @obyezeks for that invaluable piece of advice. Its impact on my life has been remarkable.
But this experience taught me something much bigger about education.
Many of us are struggling today, not because we lack intelligence, but because we are building on weak educational foundations.
We keep trying to fix problems at the top when the real problems are at the bottom.
Sometimes, the greatest form of progress is having the humility to go back to the basics and rebuild properly.
You cannot build excellence on a foundation you have refused to repair.
😳😳😳
When Samuel Abdulraheem disappeared at seven years old, his family searched for him until they began to fear they would never see him again.
For six years, they had no idea where he was or what had happened to him. His sister, Firdausi Okezie, refused to give up hope, even when the family began to accept that he might be dead.
Then, in December 2000, she travelled to a church gathering in Ogun State to sell fabrics made by her mother. While waiting for a carpenter to help her set up her stall, she noticed a boy standing beside a blind beggar.
She looked at the boy again.
He was her missing brother.
Samuel was seven years old when he disappeared from his family home in Kano, northern Nigeria. His father had 17 children with four wives, and Samuel was the youngest child in the family.
On the day he went missing, he was reportedly at home with a nanny. The family was told that he had gone outside to ride his bicycle, but he never returned.
At first, his disappearance was difficult for the family to understand. They searched for him and contacted the police. His nanny was initially arrested but was later released after investigations.
His older sister, Firdausi, was away at university when Samuel disappeared. She was not immediately told what had happened to him.
She began to suspect something was wrong when she repeatedly called home and noticed that things were different. After returning home unexpectedly, she learned that her younger brother had been missing for more than a month.
The news devastated her.
The family searched for Samuel, placed advertisements in newspapers and sent people to look for him. They checked places where they feared he might have been abandoned and pursued different leads, but none brought him home.
As the months passed without any information, hope began to fade.
His mother, who was living elsewhere after separating from his father, was not told about his disappearance immediately. The family delayed breaking the news to her because they feared how she would react.
Eventually, she learned that her son was missing.
Years passed, and there was still no sign of Samuel.
What his family did not know was that he was alive, hundreds of kilometres away from Kano, being forced to guide blind beggars around the streets.
Samuel had very little memory of how he was taken from home. When he later spoke about his experience, he remembered being approached by people who were not his parents and being persuaded to follow them.
His clearest memory of the journey was travelling by train.
He was taken to Lagos, where he was handed over to a woman who lived in an area where many disabled beggars stayed. According to Samuel's account, the woman sent children out with beggars and collected money from them in return.
Samuel was hired out to blind beggars for about ₦500 a day.
His job was to guide them through the streets as they begged for money.
He could not simply decide to leave. The beggars depended on him to move around, and he was expected to remain with them throughout the day.
Different beggars hired him for periods ranging from a week to a month. He moved around Lagos and neighbouring areas, sometimes travelling to other states and even across the border into Benin.
He was rarely able to settle anywhere for long.
Samuel later described his life during those years as a form of slavery. He had little control over where he went or what he did.
Hunger was a constant problem.
Sometimes people gave them food while they were begging. At other times, they searched for leftovers around restaurants or scavenged for food.
The money collected from begging did not belong to Samuel. The woman who controlled the arrangement received payment for his labour.
He spent six years living this way, separated from his family and without knowing when he would see them again.
Meanwhile, Firdausi had refused to completely abandon the search for her brother.
Ikhane Akhigbe retweeted
Nia Long, Regina Hall, and Sanaa Lathan—all over 50—go viral after linking up with immaculate face cards! 👑😍 ✨
Ikhane Akhigbe retweeted
Not long after joining Chelsea, Vinnie Jones went back to Watford, with a couple of football mates kipping at his place. One of them looked out of the window one day and spotted a woman on roller skates.
“Wahey, look at this!”
Jones went over to the window.
“Oh my God! I can’t believe it!”
It was Tanya. They'd met aged 12, had a brief teenage romance and lost touch. Years later he was back in his old house and she was living two doors away, going through a divorce.
“Do I believe in fate? It’s all very spooky.”
By that point he was known as one of the hardest men in English football. Tanya's path had been very different. At 21, after giving birth to her daughter Kaley, her heart failed and she needed an emergency transplant. She survived, but it left her with medication and health problems for the rest of her life.
When Jones decided he wanted to marry her, he spoke to her dad first.
“You know what you’re taking on?”
“Yeah, I do know and I’m going to take care of her and look after her.”
He never thought of himself as her rescuer. If anything, he reckoned it was the other way round.
“I feel she was saved to save me, and I was meant to look after her.”
They got married in Watford in 1994. Tanya brought Kaley, whom Jones went on to adopt, and he brought his son Aaron. Over the years she fought off cervical cancer twice and lived with the aftermath of her transplant, while he moved from football into acting and the family ended up in Los Angeles. Illness was never allowed to call the shots.
“We haven’t got time to think about ‘what if’ and ‘what about’. We make the most of life.”
“We’ve been through a lot, so I just want her to enjoy life and for us to grow old together.”
In 2013 they were both diagnosed with melanoma. Jones had a malignant growth taken from under his eye and was eventually cleared. Tanya wasn't as fortunate. The cancer kept coming back, and for six years he was at every appointment and every treatment, exactly as he'd promised her dad.
On Christmas Eve 2018, already in a great deal of pain, Tanya found out the cancer had spread to her brain.
“That was the first time we broke down together.”
Even so, she wouldn't let it ruin Christmas for anyone else. Doctors put her on steroids and she kept celebrating through the pain.
“She wanted to get through the Christmas.”
Jones later thought she probably knew what was coming before the rest of them were ready to accept it.
“I think she knew she wasn’t going to make next Christmas.”
In July 2019, doctors told him they'd run out of treatments.
“In that last week of her life when the doctors said there were no more treatments, I never told her she was dying.”
“We never spoke of that, I didn’t want her to know.”
He spent every night beside her in hospital, and Kaley came in every morning.
“In the hospital I slept there every night and Kaley would come every morning.”
“She has never ever slept one night in hospital without me there. I have always been by her side.”
In the end his only request to the doctors was that she wouldn't be in pain, so they let her go home. The family stayed by her over the next few days, still chatting to her as she slept because she could probably hear them.
On the morning of July 6th, Jones heard her cough and ran in. Her breathing had changed. Kaley, Tanya's parents, her brother and the rest of the family gathered at her bedside.
“We knew it was the end, we were cuddling her.”
“I kissed her a lot and told her I loved her. I kept saying, ‘I love you, I love you’.”
Her breathing slowed, then stopped. After 25 years of marriage, Tanya passed away with Jones and her family around her. She was just 53.
Later, tucked among her diaries, Jones came across a card. On the front:
“Always believe something wonderful is about to happen.”
And inside, her final message to him.
“To my love Vin, something wonderful happens to me every day. It’s being with you.”
“You are my morning sunshine the moment I wake. All my love, Tanya.”
Ikhane Akhigbe retweeted
The Spinners - It's a Shame (1970)
Referred to as The Detroit Spinners in the UK to avoid confusion with the British folk group of the same name. Written by Stevie Wonder, Syreeta Wright & Lee Garrett, the song was both a UK & US Top 20 hit + #3 on the Soul Chart.❤️
#Legends
Ikhane Akhigbe retweeted
One of the most powerful videos I’ve ever seen as a United supporter. The shift in atmosphere as soon as Carrick goes down the tunnel is exactly what the players need to hear. 👏
Ikhane Akhigbe retweeted
On the night of October 18, 1974, Al Green was at home in Memphis when Mary Woodson, a woman he had been involved with, walked into the bathroom and threw a pot of boiling grits across his back.
The burns were severe. He would spend weeks in the hospital. Moments later she took his handgun and shot herself. She left a note.
He was twenty-eight and already one of the most magnetic voices in American music.
Between 1971 and 1974 he had done something few singers manage: he made desire feel both urgent and easy. “Let’s Stay Together” reached number one. “Tired of Being Alone,” “I’m Still in Love with You,” “Call Me,” and “Love and Happiness” followed in quick succession.
The voice was soft and insistent at once—close, almost conversational, yet capable of sudden gospel-sized leaps. Records sold in the tens of millions. Crowds treated him like a living ideal of romantic possibility. He was, by almost every commercial measure, exactly where most artists hope to stay.
The night with the grits did not create his turn toward the church; he had already begun calling himself a born-again Christian. What it did was sharpen the choice.
The distance between the man who sang those songs and the man he wanted to be had become hard to ignore. In 1976 he was ordained and bought the Full Gospel Tabernacle in Memphis, a short drive from Graceland. Industry people called it a waste of a career.
Some fans felt abandoned. Green treated the decision as the only coherent response to having been left alive. For years he largely set the secular catalog aside. He preached, raised children, and recorded gospel albums that never matched the old sales but carried the same voice into a different room.
He returned when he was ready rather than when the market asked. Lay It Down in 2008, made with younger collaborators, earned two Grammy Awards and reminded listeners that the instrument had not gone missing.
He holds a stack of Grammys overall, an induction into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame in 1995, and the continued respect of anyone who still measures soul singing by intimacy rather than volume. The numbers were never the point he was protecting.
Most people in his position would have stayed on the commercial path. The money was reliable, the adoration was loud, and the public identity was already built. Green heard a different requirement.
He stepped away from the version of himself the industry preferred and rebuilt around the one he could live with. When “Let’s Stay Together” still appears in a store or on a playlist decades later, it carries that choice underneath the melody.
The voice that once made surrender feel inevitable is the same voice that later decided what it would and would not serve. That alignment is what still distinguishes the records. He could have remained the untroubled symbol the moment offered.
Instead he became a pastor who still sings with the old heat, only now from a place that belongs fully to him. In a culture that treats remaining on top as the only respectable outcome, the quieter decision to leave at the height still reads as the rarer form of nerve.
😂😂😂
Eddie Murphy Calls Out Jerry Seinfeld for Saying Bernie Mac Was the Best Comedian He’d Ever Seen And Couldn’t Believe He Put Him on Comedy’s Mount Rushmore
Jerry Seinfeld: “You’re going to object, but I am a huge fan of Bernie Mac. I love Bernie Mac.”
“I told you, I thought Bernie Mac was one of the funniest to me.”
Eddie Murphy: “No, no, no. You didn’t say ‘one of.’ You said you thought he was the best that you’d ever seen do it.”
“I said, I love Bernie, but the best? If you told anyone else that you thought he was the best, they would go, ‘Really?’”
“We were doing our comic Mount Rushmore. We were saying, which comedians would be on Mount Rushmore?”
“We were saying, like, Richard Pryor, Lenny Bruce… and then he goes, ‘Bernie Mac!’ And I’m like, what the fuck?”
“And I love Bernie, but on Mount Rushmore? That’s…”
Ikhane Akhigbe retweeted
Believed to be Nigeria's first millionaire, Candido Da Rocha (1860–1959) was so wealthy that he often sent his dirty clothes from Lagos to the United Kingdom to be washed by a laundryman.
Da Rocha was a rich entrepreneur, businessman, landowner and creditor who owned Water House or Casa d’Agua on Kakawa Street, Lagos Island, Lagos. It was named Water House because it was the first and only house in Lagos in those days to have a borehole and, in turn, sell water to the residents.
Candido Da Rocha, a native of Ilesha, present-day Osun State, was born to the family of Joao Esan Da Rocha, who was captured as a slave when he was 10 years old on his way to school in Ilesha. Candido was born in the Bahia region of Brazil. His mother was Angelica Josephina Da Rocha. His father returned to Lagos, Nigeria, in the 1870s, where he built his wealth and passed it to his son, Candido.
Due to his wealth, his friend, Herbert Macaulay (1864–1946), nominated him as a candidate in one of the elections of the time. And when Da Rocha met the electorate, he told them:
“I am Candido Da Rocha, your candidate for the House. Vote for me if you like. And if you don’t, all well and good.”
That statement ended his sojourn in politics as he lost the election by acquiring just 20 votes.
Indeed, Da Rocha was a very modest and generous capitalist.
During the Second World War (1939–1945), when the authorities of Kings College were looking for a place to relocate the students in the boarding house (among whom were Tiamiyu Bello-Osagie, who would become one of Nigeria’s most celebrated gynaecologists; Adenekan Ademola, son of Nigeria’s first indigenous Chief Justice, Adetokunbo Ademola; Dapo Aderemi, son of Sir Adesoji Aderemi, the legendary Ooni of Ile-Ife) Da Rocha volunteered his Bonanza Hotel on Customs Street, Lagos, and did not collect a dime for the period it was used.
Even after the war, when the colonial government asked influential Nigerians to contribute to the rehabilitation fund, Da Rocha made substantial donations, and he instructed that the amount should not be disclosed to the public. He was also famously known for tossing coins from his balcony to little children.
Despite his wealth and vast contributions, no monument in Lagos bears his name, although his legacy endures in the Water House, his philanthropic spirit, and the parlance “Do you think I’m Da Rocha?”, a saying still used among the Yoruba to reference wasteful spending.
Candido Da Rocha died in 1959 and was buried at the Ikoyi Cemetery. He was 98. #HistoryVille
Ikhane Akhigbe retweeted
THE MOST TERRIFYING MICHAEL JACKSON MOMENT
THE LAWYER HANDED HIM HIS OWN NOTES...
march 1, 1996. michael jackson is 37. he's under oath in a lawsuit, and a camera is rolling.
the lawyer slides two handwritten pages across the table. michael reads them and says it's his handwriting.
deposition = you answer a lawyer's questions under oath, on camera, before the trial. anything you say can be played to a jury.
what's on his list:
→ 0:09 "yes, it's mine"
→ 0:26 things he wanted to set straight in a tv interview
→ 0:35 the interview was with diane sawyer
→ 0:43 "people have lied on me"
→ 0:48 the bleached skin rumor
→ 1:01 a rumor about president clinton's inauguration
→ 1:07 "don't judge a person unless you walk a mile in their shoes"
→ 1:26 "jesus said to love the children"
→ 2:04 "people completely lie on me"
what actually got me is that he wrote it down. the most famous man on earth sat at home and made a list of what people said about him.
i rewatched 1:26 three times. he's quoting the bible to a lawyer. he looks like he means every word.
he was never convicted of anything. in 2005 a jury found him not guilty on all 10 counts.
but the list didn't get shorter. it got longer every year until 2009.
the scariest part isn't the rumors. it's a man who had to keep a written list of them.