When I saw pictures from DJ Cuppy’s graduation party, I was completely filled with jealousy and envy. I kept asking myself questions. What was my father doing when Femi Otedola was busy making money and fighting the system to become successful? It didn’t end there; I questioned myself too.
I did not graduate from university, so maybe, that is why I could not have got such grand celebration, organised in my honour. I was impatient in university, that I could not finish. I kept running up and down, so uncomfortable, for so many personal reasons, partly for financial constraints. I doubt DJ Cuppy had the same issues I had while in the University of Nigeria, Nsukka. I left, because I was sure no one would gather the entire universe to celebrate my graduation.
Before DJ Cuppy came into the limelight, we barely read about Femi Otedola. Some of us just knew he’s one hell of a rich man. And that he worked for his money, too. Here or there. We didn’t need to know how. We were sure he applied all tactics to remain rich. He is also a social capitalist. While he was busy travelling from one end of the world to another, some of our fathers were busy, seated in the sitting rooms, dishing out advices on how to make it in life. No matter how emotionally cracking this might sound, some of us really don’t like our fathers, for some reasons, but who are we to say them? Poverty is a disease and it is the reason why we are very aggressive people. We tend to hate rich people without having the strength to go through what they do to make money. We are quick at submerging ourselves into self-pity.
DJ Cuppy is smart. She is playing with our sensibility. Most people think she’s the only child. No, Mr. Otedola has other children. But the smart girl is playing it down on her father’s wealth, to get all of us grovelling at her feet, without knowing that she is gradually drawing her father to his downfall. The downfall of a man may come from his daughter. This is it! Every eye is on Femi Otedola now. Each news caption and headline will always scream: “Daughter of billionaire, Femi Otedola.” And DJ Cuppy will be so happy; she doesn’t know the repercussion of what she is doing. Even if she is not spiritual, she needs to understand that the mind is cruel and that there is a negative vibration that comes unconsciously when the world is not happy with you but pretends it is happy with you. But the young woman is not the one asking bloggers and media persons to link her to her father, but it has to be there.
Russian president, Vladimir Putin has two daughters. There are only existing pictures of them when they were young. No Google search can reveal how they look now or where they are or who they really are. Mr. Putin doesn’t like discussing his family. And the children are safe. In a world, filled with envy and jealousy and hypocrites, Mr. Putin’s children will have genuine friends. This is what DJ Cuppy will definitely lack. Unfortunately, some of us are terrible that we only become friends with people because of their status quo in the society. This is regrettable, but that is how the society functions. I would like to stop what I am writing, because I am a poor man, giving advice to a rich man and his daughter. Who am I? I am nothing in the eyes of men and those beyond mortality. But because I know what happened to Mr. Otedola in the past, with Mr. Farouk Lawan, I believe that DJ Cuppy’s celebrity life is about to ruin things for her father.
We are a society of crabs. We will start digging and we will become ants in the hills, trying to eat away the man. Whether or not he has worked for his money, we will find a way to distress him.
In 2012, I travelled to Lisbon, through Accra, for two reasons. I wanted to meet a fellow Sandboxer, MacJordan Degadjor and also pay homage to one of Africa’s most illustrious sons, Dele Momodu at the House of Ovation. So many people have preconceived notions about the man in question. Everyone has an opinion on him, almost. We say that he is friend of everyone. But we say these things out of anger. If there is a perfect social capitalist that I know now, that should be Dele Momodu. He has no known enemy, no matter how it appears. He is a man whose heart is clean and dines with everyone. Why he comes into this picture is this: when I visited him, he wore a pair of bedroom slippers and was seated in the restaurant with his cheap phones, which had contacts of Princes and Princesses, Presidents and Kings.
After serving us dinner (real food!), we sat down and talked for some hours and I began to understand the simple man I used to see amidst crowds and thought he didn’t have time to listen to anyone. Infact, what I took away from my long discussion with Dele Momodu is that there is no end to hustle. He has ambitions. He is still working day in day out to make ends meet. Back to some of our fathers, once they see us through universities, they relax and then say, “It’s your time to feed us.” Yet, there are many men out there with so much responsibilities, hustling. It sounds funny, but the only time we saw pictures of Dele Momodu’s children, was when he contested for President. His children are back to their private lives. And their father is working so hard to make sure they have a happy life.
If only the media can just stop attaching DJ Cuppy’s father’s wealth to her talent, she might simply have a normal life. But right now, it won’t sound nice if I say she’s doomed with fake friends and acquaintances. Don’t worry; her friends reading this will make her believe that this writer is mad, but wait until you hear them whisper to their new acquaintances: “Meet my friend, DJ Cuppy. She is the daughter of Femi Otedola.” Betrayal will not allow her to focus on her art. Everyone would want something from her and she will find it difficult to say no to them. She will be heart broken at some point and will get back on her feet easily, but broken mirrors are broken mirrors.
Aliko Dangote’s children are like ghosts to us. We don’t know them and wherever they are, they might be living normally. But that’s where the comparison ends. If Femi Otedola appears so much in the public eye, the tongues of his enemies will start wagging for a probe. It was never my intention to spoil things for DJ Cuppy, but I am genuinely interested in her art, as a DJ, which the media should focus on and leave her private life out of it, unless she is the one clamouring for the attention. If she wants us to keep staring into her eyes, we will. But for now, a quiet life out of the breadth of wantonness, should be her ultimate concern.
Onyeka Nwelue is award-winning author of The Abyssinian Boy (DADA Books, 2009) and Burnt (Hattus, 2014). He’s currently Professor of African Studies and Literature at Instituto d’Amicis, Puebla in Mexico and President of Lacave Musik, Paris.
The opinions expressed in this article are solely those of the author.
