HISTORY OF OFIN
REMO KINGDOM
LIST OF ALL AKARIGBO OFIN OF REMO KINGDOM
1. Akarigbo
2. Aroyewun
3. Luyoruwa
4. Radolu
5. Koyelu
6. Muleruwa
7. Torungbuwa
8. Anoko
8. Liyangu
9. Otutubiosun
10. Erinjugbotan
11. Faranpojo
12. Igimisoje. (Responsible for the relocation of the Ofin Remo to Sagamu 1872 after the Yoruba Wars mid-19th century)
13. Dueja
14. Oyebajo 1891- 1916 ( He became the first Paramount Oba of Remo in 1894)
15. Adedoyin I. 1916- 1952
16. Awolesi 1952- 1988
17. Adedoyin Ahoko II.Adeleke. (Removed for violating ascension rights) 1988-1990
19. Adeniyi Sonariwo. 1990-2016
20. Babatunde Ajayi. (current ‘Oba’ King). 2016- Till Date
Historically, it is on records that 33 Towns/Villages make up what is known today as REMO KINGDOM. (They used to be known popularly as REMO METALELOGBON.)
It is believed that the REMO people migrated from Ile Ife, in the present-day Osun State, during the quest for survival, expansion, growth, sovereignty, independence and most especially because of the then PREVALENT inter-tribal war.
The paramount ruler of Remo Kingdom is known as the Akarigbo, the first Prince from Ile Ife.
Akarigbo is the head of all the Kings in Remo's land. The first Oba Akarigbo was Igbodein, a child of Aka, who was married to Onigbo. Onigbo was one of those who followed Obanta into Ijebuland originally. King Igbodein’s poetic praise (oriki) was:
“Owa Mojo-nmogun ofin.”
After he settled down at Oke Iyemule, he was quoted as saying: “Ore mo!” This was because he relocated to the new home in anger around the year 1450.
It was Aroyewun Akarigbo who moved the people out of Iyemule and relocated them to Orile Ofin. The other Akarigbos at this early time were Luyoruwa, Radolu, Koyelu, Muleruwa, Tewogbuwa, Arioko, Liyangu, Otutu bi Osun, Erinjugbotan, Faranpojo, Igimisoje.
In 1865, Ewusi Olukokun I founded Sagamu and conducted the necessary rites to ensure the prosperity of their settlement, marking the beginning of a peaceful coexistence that would endure for generations. He appointed the first Alase of the Orisagamu River, who was a woman.
As Makun settled into Sagamu, the vision of a united Remo kingdom began to take shape. The various towns of Remo. EPE, SIMAWA, BATORO, SOYINDO, IJAGBA, IJOKU, OKO, IWELEPE, ILARE, SOTUBO, ADO AND AGURA. OFFIN moved into the new settlement between 1866 and 1872, Offin was the last to move into the Sagamu Confederation city in 1872 by The Akarigbo of Offin Kabiesi Oba Igimisoje (who was renowned for leading his people (in 1872) to settle in the place now known as Sagamu, on land owned by a man named Bammowu.
Shortly after, there was a dispute between Akarigbo and Elepe over the crown, and this resulted in war. It was during this battle that Akarigbo was quoted as saying: “Bi n ko tile ju osandie, EMI ni Oloja Remo.” This new settlement, at that time, was called Sagamu because it was close to a river.
The present Akarigbo resides in SAGAMU and is by the name Oba Babatunde Ajayi. It was gathered that the original name of Sagamu used to be ORISAGAMUEWA, named by Ewusi Olukokun the first.
Twelve Remo villages/towns joined Makun at the present location, Sagamu, because of the then war for security and protection at Orisagamuewa.
After the secession of the inter-tribal war, some villages/towns went back to their original settlement while others became comfortable at Orisagamuewa and stayed back at Orisagamuewa. Some of the Towns found today in Sagamu-Remo include the following;
MAKUN, EPE, OFFIN, SIMAWA, BATORO, SOYINDO, IJAGBA, IJOKU, OKO, IWELEPE, ILARE, SOTUBO, ADO AND AGURA.
These Towns are all REMO TOWNS. It is also on record that because of the creation of States and Local Governments, some Remo Towns have been put in another State or different local government. For example, the following towns are originally REMOS, and they speak the Remo Dialect, but they are now in Lagos State. Some of the towns include IKORODU, IBESHE, ODOGUNYAN, ISARA, IGBOGBO and AGBOWA IKOSI. Some other Towns that are now in other different blocs in Ogun State include AIYEPE, ODOGBOLU, OKUN OWA and IJESHA.
Ogun State today has twenty (20) Local Governments and three (3) Senatorial Districts, namely Ogun West, Ogun East and Ogun Central. Remo Division or Remo Bloc is under Ogun East Senatorial District, with Senator S. A. Kaka representing Ogun East at the Nigeria Senate.
Well, as of today, REMO BLOC has three (3) local governments. The local governments are as follows: Sagamu, Ikenne and Remo North.
The following towns are all REMOS: ODE-LEMO, OGIJO, OGERE, IPERU, ILISAN, IKENNE, ILARA/AKAKA, IROLU, IPARA, ISARA, SAGAMU and ODE-REMO.
.
These kingdoms vary in size and are grouped into North and South. Most of the ones in the north, like Ode-Remo, Ogeere, Ipara and Iperu, did not always see eye to eye with those in the South, like Ofin, Ilara, Ikenne, Ilisan and Makun. Towns in the immediate east of Remo historically belong to Remo, including Ijesha-Ijebu, Agbowa and Okun-Owa (Itakete).
Some even claim Odogbolu and Aiyepe in periods of expansiveness. In their myths of origin, there was no unanimity about where the founding fathers came from, but the majority of the Remo kingdoms claimed origin from Oduduwa, the eponymous ancestor of the Yorubas.
By the 19th century, shortly before the advent of British imperialism, Remo's land was largely controlled by Remo. There were periods of rebellion against the Awujale, but most of the time, these rebellions were put down in detail because Remo land always found it difficult to be united against a common foe. In any case, even in relatively modern times, some elements in Remo did not believe in severing ties with Remo.
The British extended the boundaries of Lagos to Southern Remo, particularly to Ikorodu, one of the important Remo Kingdoms. Some of the leaders in Remo exploited the presence of the British, particularly British missionaries of the Methodist church, in their struggle for a separate identity from the rest of the Ijebus. A certain Pythagoras Haastrup, later known as Ademuyiwa Haastrup, played decisive roles in Remo's struggle for her identity as a separate Kingdom.
Ademuyiwa Haastrup was born in 1853 to an Ifa Priest and was adopted by Wesleyan Methodist Missionaries and educated in Lagos. His parents originally came from Ofin, and he was able to use his connection with royalty in Ofin to influence the Akarigbo of Ofin that British influence and Christianity could bring Remo stability and progress. He used his considerable influence with Akarigbo in prevailing on the latter not to support the Awujale, who was determined to block the trade route from Lagos to the hinterland, a situation that was later to lead to the defeat of Ijebu in 1892 without Remo suffering any military attack.
The influence of the Methodist in Remo land was not only limited to the activities of Haastrup alone because even the British Missionary, Reverend William Fredrick Mellor, who had virtually gone native in Remo land and had become a member of Osugbo had considerable influence in Remo and worked very hard to ensure Akarigbo's as Paramount Ruler Remo and as a separate Kingdom from the Ijebus.
Remo’s history is characterised by internecine warfare between one Remo town and another, leading to migrations, resettlement, and coalescence while retaining the old names in the various places in which they resettled. Thus, in many of the Remo towns, one finds more than one ruler. In each settlement, which is a replication of old destroyed towns, they try to maintain separate identities by retaining their former rulers. Despite the attempt to maintain a separate identity, some institutions provide a semblance of unity and common identity among the Remo people.
These institutions include the titled heads (Obas), Osugbo, Eluku, Oro and later on, Egungun, apparently signifying Oyo’s influence. Remo, by the middle of the 19th century, realised that to save itself, it must be united. It was in this situation that several towns came together to find Sagamu in the Southern part of Remo's land.
The kingdoms that came together to found Sagamu following the invitation between 1866 and 1872 of Akarigbo Oduname Igimisoje of Ofin to other Remo towns were Ado, Batoro, Epe, Ibido, Ijagba, Ijokun, Makun, Ofin, Oko, Sonyindo, Latawa and Ipoji.
Two other towns were added later, namely, Igbepa and Ranmiken. The new settlement of Sagamu was some kind of confederation, with each of the settlements maintaining its identity and rulers even though they accepted the Akarigbo of Ofin as overall Suzereign.
Some of the important Northern towns like Iperu, Ode-Remo, Ipara and Isara refused to join the people in Sagamu. The two most important quarters of Sagamu were Makun and Ofin. With the centralisation in Sagamu, the Remo people faced the challenge of how to overcome even within Sagamu fissiparous tendencies tearing the settlements apart and the hostility of the Awujale to the settlement.
This was because the new settlement constituted an economic challenge to Remo, which hitherto controlled the trade route to the coast.
The British in Lagos would, of course, not have Remo disrupt trade between the coast and the hinterland. This was the reason why the Governor of Lagos, William Carter, signed with the Akarigbo, Oyebajo Torungbuwa, in 1894 a treaty declaring Remo land a British protectorate while the Akarigbo was made to cede Ikorodu district to Lagos as part of Lagos colony.
Ironically, the Akarigbo were not unhappy about the declaration of the British protectorate. Left to him, he would have preferred to join Lagos as part of the colony.
IKORODU
Ikorodu and the history of Remoland The history of Ikorodu is as rich as the enviable track record of its sons and daughters, who have not only excelled in their chosen careers but have also left their footprints on virtually all the strata of our national history for posterity to see.
It is the history of a people whose ancestors, according to available history, descended from the Remo stock of the Yoruba tribe who came to settle on a plateau and named it Ikorodu, a shortened word from Oko, Which means Odu farm.
Odu, now an extinct vegetable species used for cloth dying, grew luxuriantly on this plateau. Hence, the early settlers, for want of a better name, found it convenient to name their newfound settlement after this abundant vegetable. With time, Okorodu changed to Ikorodu.
The fact of the history seems to tilt in favour of Oga as the founder of Ikorodu. This, by extension, confirms the Remo link to the origin of Ikorodu. The males among the early settlers in Ikorodu had facial tribal marks found among the Remo.
The late Oba Adenaike Alagbe had such tribal marks. The new settlement in the heart of a massive forest was first used by the sons of Akarigbo, Koyelu of Orile Offin, Oga, Lasuwon, Rademo, Anoko, Osonusi (alias Ogbonyari) Igimisoje, Otutubiosun, Oladepo and Seku made.
The extended area, now known as Ikorodu, was used by these sons of Akarigbo of Offin for hunting and farming. As to the time of the founding of the first settlement, we found it convenient to repeat ‘Igbogbo E Ko Do, KI Pakodo I do, KI Koodu I do.’ Soon after, some large contingent of Benin migrants came by land through Iki in Ogun state (where almost the whole land belongs to the Olisa family of Ikorodu) to the area now known as Ikorodu.
This group of Benin people was led by a wealthy and powerful man called Eregbouwa (now called Rebugbawa in Ikorodu) from the ancient royal family of Oliha of Benin City.
In the Benin language, Ere means king, and Uwa means peace and prosperity. Hence, Eregbuwa means king of peace and prosperity.
The Benin people settled down amicably with the children of Akarigbo, and the farm started to grow into a large settlement. This was about 1630.
The institution of Obaship was conceded to the line of Akarigbo, while the institution of Olisaship was conceded to the Benin settlers. In effect, the Oba became the reigning monarch while the Olisa became the Kingmaker of the city-state. This high position of the Olisa as the next in rank to the Oba in the city-state was borne out in his attribute or congo men in the Yoruba metaphor: AJUWE Akoye Orulu egbin o ru’lamuren a worun meaning – a noble gentleman who administers the town. This, of course, is done subject to the authority of the Oba, and it presupposes that the cordiality between the Oba and the Olisa should be impenetrable. This was the traditional arrangement. The institutions and deities such as the Osugbo, the Awo Opa, the Inomu and the Eluku were designed for the good administration and peace of the town. Before the advent of the Benin people, Oga was the head of the establishment. He and Lasunwon lived in a hamlet called Agbele at the presence site of NITEL.
Agbele was also called Egure, and so Oga became the Elegure of Egure. Lasunwon was Odofin of Shagamu. But when the Binis came, and Oga died. Lasunwon was installed as the first Oloja of Ikorodu by Olisa Rebugbawe, the first Olisa of Ikorodu. Lasuwon and Eregbouwa (Rebugbawe) were, therefore, the first Oloja (Oba) and the first Olisa of Ikorodu, respectively. There are two Ruling Houses for the Obaship, namely Lasunwon and Rademo Ruling Houses. Traditionally, Ikorodu is divided broadly into three for ease of representative democracy. These divisions are Ijomu, Aga, and Isele, which are represented in Osugbo-the highest administrative organ in the town, headed by the Olisa as chairman of Iwerefa (while Oluwo is administrative head). The smaller divisions called itun in the town are subsumed into the three major larger divisions.
With this arrangement, the emerging administrative structure of Ikorodu ensured that the Obaship and Olisaship belonged to the two primordial families of Oba (Lasunwon and Rademo) and the Olisa, respectively.
They are traditional and hereditable titles. As the settlement grew with the influx of more migrants, a city wall sprang up to provide buffer zones against intruders. The city wall, which modernity had wiped out, ran through present-day Ireshe Road to Ota-ona, right through Eluku Street/Alhaji Street, to Owolowo Street and back to Ireshe Road.
The near-spherical settlement within the wall was the totality of the old Ikorodo. The early town grew around a nucleus of settlement referred to as Itun, which covers a specific location with a boundary. There is Itun layeodo, people by migrants from Ode-Remo, Itunsoku is said to be people by migrants from Isokun quarters in Shagamu; Itagbodo was originally peopled by settlers from Oke-Gbodo, Itun Elepe is said to be the quarter started by people of Elepe stock in Shagamu; Itunwaiye was originally the quarter of people from Iwaya in Ogun State; Itunsoku was originally peopled by migrants whose roots were traced to Isokun quarters in Shagamu; Itunojoru was the quarters people by migrant of Egba origin in Abeokuta. The cosmopolitan outlook of the emerging settlement became the catalyst for development. Apart from farming, the early settlers were astute traders who developed the coastal market at Ebute.
The flourishing trade in cloth-dying fishing farm produce attracted traders from far-flung locations in the hinterland.
History will not be complete without the actions of some powerful Akarigbos of Offin Remo. One of the interesting kings was Akarigbo Oyebajo.
Akarigbo Oyebajo's life and reign stand as the story of a ship navigating through a tumultuous ocean, constantly buffeted by both the winds of a foreign power and the crashing waves of Indigenous loyalty. Born in 1866, he entered a world where tradition and colonialism had already begun to intersect in strange, often antagonistic ways. He would come to represent the thin line between these forces—holding steadfast to his heritage even as the British Empire encroached upon it, seeking to preserve what was his while also adjusting to the new world order imposed on him. In many ways, he was both the captain of a kingdom and a man caught in the undertow of an era defined by change.
When Oyebajo ascended the throne in 1891, the Ijebu kingdom was still clinging to its traditions, unyielding to the waves of British colonial dominance. But the tides were turning. The British Empire was closing in on the region, and in 1892, it was not just the kingdoms that faced upheaval, but the very nature of kingship itself. The British had been keen to exert their influence, particularly in Lagos, and the issue of “proliferating kings” troubled them. The arrival of the British in Ijebu was not a mere event—it was a harbinger of change, a powerful force, the tempest that would redefine everything.
And so, in August 1894, Oyebajo found himself thrust into prominence through a unique agreement that placed him as the paramount king of Ijebu Remo. It was an uneasy alliance—one that cost him some of his autonomy, but one that also gave him a position of stature in the eyes of the British. It was the first of many compromises he would have to make, like a tree bending in the wind, its roots still anchored but constantly swaying. The British, ever-watchful, saw him as a key figure to help consolidate their empire, though they viewed him with suspicion. Yet, in 1903, when the Lagos government, following consultations with the Ooni of Ife, permitted him to wear the beaded crown—the ultimate symbol of authority—it seemed as if his position was finally cemented. But beneath the surface of this recognition simmered the tension of a ruler who was both respected and resented.
As time passed, Oyebajo began to show the cracks in his once-sturdy foundation. His relationship with his chiefs, the very men who helped him maintain his rule, began to unravel. The struggle over money—a stipend provided by the Lagos government—served as the first clear rift. Custom dictated that the chiefs were entitled to share in this money, a longstanding tradition of reciprocity that bound the ruler and his subjects. Yet Oyebajo, perhaps driven by his desire to maintain his authority or perhaps by a growing sense of personal entitlement, refused to distribute the funds as expected. In doing so, he appeared to neglect the very system that had supported him, like a king who forgot the soil that nourished his kingdom. And so, his rule became one marked by increasing alienation, as his chiefs began to see him not as a protector but as a tyrant.
The tension reached its breaking point in 1911 when four of Oyebajo’s chiefs were arrested on charges of conspiracy. In the world of politics, betrayal was like a shadow that never quite left, and Oyebajo’s move to remove his enemies only deepened the chasm between him and those who had once been his closest allies. This was not the way of kingship in the traditional sense—this was the harsh reality of a ruler who sought to exert his power at any cost. And when the tables turned, as they often do in politics, the chiefs, now united in their hatred of Oyebajo, turned the tables on him. They charged him with theft and extortion, and the case was brought before the British colonial authorities.
The trial, however, was a public spectacle that would come to define Oyebajo’s future. The colonial Commissioner of Bribery and Corruption, Duncombe, was an unforgiving figure, one whose sense of justice was often harsh. Oyebajo was acquitted, but the damage had been done. The public humiliation he suffered at the hands of the colonial authorities was a blow that he could not easily recover from. His relationship with the British, already strained, reached a breaking point. The treatment he received from Duncombe—a figure representing the very empire that had elevated him—embittered him, and from that moment, Oyebajo began to treat the British with open disdain, a king scorned by the very powers that had once elevated him.
In 1915, Oyebajo was finally deposed on charges of judicial misconduct—a fitting end for a man whose reign had been marked by contradictions. He had been a ruler who sought to balance the forces of tradition with the demands of colonial power, but in the end, his actions betrayed him. He had become a king disconnected from his people and his chiefs, a ruler whose power was eroded by the very system he had tried to navigate. Like a ship that had lost its rudder, Oyebajo drifted aimlessly, caught between the conflicting tides of native customs and colonial authority.
His successor, Awolesi, came to the throne in 1916, but his reign was short-lived—only nine months before his death. It seemed as though public opinion had shifted in Oyebajo’s favour, as people began to see him as a victim of a system that had exploited him. Yet, this shift in sentiment did little to restore his position. Oyebajo’s return to Sagamu, in the spirit of reconciliation, marked the final chapter in his story—a chapter that was written not with the ink of triumph, but with the fading remnants of a man whose dreams had been shattered.
By the time Oyebajo returned to Sagamu in 1932, he was a broken man, worn down by years of political turmoil and personal suffering. His association with Herbert Macaulay, a thorn in the side of the colonial authorities, had further alienated him from the British, who now saw him as a dangerous figure—one whose influence could spark unrest. In the quiet town of Sagamu, Oyebajo was a shadow of his former self, a ruler without a kingdom, a man whose once proud lineage had been brought low by the very forces he had tried to balance.
Oyebajo died on July 11, 1932, but his legacy was far from forgotten. His life had been a metaphor for the struggle of his people—caught between the ancient ways and the modern world. He had been both a symbol of resistance and a symbol of compromise, a man who had tried to preserve his culture while navigating the treacherous waters of colonialism. In the end, his story was one of survival, of a ruler who had tried to hold on to his power, but who had ultimately been overwhelmed by the forces of history. His death was not just the end of a man, but the end of an era—an era when the old ways of kingship had been irrevocably altered by the rise of colonialism.
The story of Akarigbo Oyebajo is the story of a man who stood at the crossroads of two worlds, caught in the ebb and flow of history. His reign, marked by both triumph and tragedy, stands as a testament to the complexities of leadership in a time of change. His life was a metaphor for the tensions that defined the colonial era, a time when tradition and modernity collided, and the old ways of power were slowly swept away by the tides of empire.
In the delicate tapestry of Remo history, few threads are as significant as those woven by HRM Oba William Christopher Adedoyin, the Akarigbo of Remo Kingdom. A man whose life journey can be likened to the slow, persistent river carving its way through the land—his existence marked by calm and storm, by quiet tenacity and public power. Adedoyin's reign and legacy were shaped by his ability to navigate between the forces of tradition and modernity, indigenous practices and colonial influence, much like a sailor steering his ship through turbulent seas. Born in the late 1870s into the Anoko royal family of Ofin in Sagamu, his life would come to mirror the changing tides of the society he was born.
His early life was humble, steeped in the daily rhythms of village life. As a child, Adedoyin assisted his mother in her foodstuff trade, which took them to Lagos—a bustling metropolis, an endless sea of opportunity and challenge. Lagos, then a focal point of British influence, exposed young Adedoyin to the pulse of colonial life, yet he remained tethered to his roots in Remo. His formative years, spent in the quiet village south of Sagamu, were soon complemented by his education at Wesley College, Sagamu, and later in Lagos with the Methodists. It was during these years that Adedoyin learned not only to read and write but also the subtle art of navigating between two worlds—one rooted in the ancient rhythms of his people, the other in the fast-moving currents of colonial modernity.
Adedoyin’s journey was not linear, nor was it bound solely by the written word. After completing his schooling, he turned his hand to tailoring and even briefly apprenticed in that craft. Yet, it was in the world of commerce and administration that Adedoyin’s destiny truly began to unfold. In his time as a clerk for Christopher Sapara Williams, a prominent Nigerian lawyer and a guiding light of early African legal practice, he found himself pulled into the orbit of the Lagos elite. Williams introduced him to the intricacies of colonial governance, and to the influential networks of power that would later shape his ascension. In this environment, Adedoyin's intellectual and diplomatic prowess blossomed, and it was here that he adopted the name Christopher William—an outward symbol of his connection to the world beyond Remo.
By 1903, Adedoyin returned to his roots, to the familiar soil of Remo, and there, in a mix of tailoring, farming, and public service, his influence quietly began to expand. His work as a public letter writer, and his support for the burgeoning Christian mission, signaled his capacity for leadership in both secular and spiritual domains. Yet it was not long before he found himself once again swept into the currents of Remo’s volatile politics. In 1905, he served as a clerk to his former employer, Akarigbo Oyebajo Torungbuwa, whose reign had grown increasingly fraught with tension. The disagreements between Oyebajo and his chiefs, particularly those surrounding the colonial government’s interference in local matters, ultimately led to Oyebajo’s abdication in 1915.
It was in the wake of Oyebajo’s fall that the stage was set for Adedoyin's rise. Like a storm that follows a clearing sky, Adedoyin was chosen as the new Akarigbo of Remo in 1916, a decision that would forever alter the kingdom’s trajectory. He had, in many ways, outlasted his predecessors. A man who had once supported Oyebajo against the chiefs, Adedoyin had ultimately aligned himself with Oyebajo’s enemies, casting aside old allegiances for new opportunities. His youth, literacy, and understanding of the colonial system won him favour with the British, who sought stability in the region. In September 1916, the crown of Akarigbo was placed upon his head, a symbol of both continuity and change.
Adedoyin’s reign marked the beginning of a new chapter in Remo's history, a chapter where the boundaries between tradition and colonialism were redrawn. As Akarigbo, he navigated the complexities of his kingdom with a deft hand. A staunch Methodist and proponent of Christian education, he sought to modernize Remo without erasing its cultural identity. His support for Western education was not just a matter of personal belief—it was a calculated effort to equip his people with the tools necessary to thrive in an increasingly colonial world. Yet, his actions were not purely rooted in the desire for modernization; they were also a response to the winds of change that were sweeping across the region.
One of the most defining actions of Adedoyin’s reign was his resistance to the colonial structure that sought to subjugate Remo within the larger Ijebu Province. The notion of indirect rule, which placed the Awujale of Ijebu as the paramount ruler over Remo, was a system that Adedoyin found intolerable. Like a tree that resists the encroaching hands of another vine, Adedoyin sought to assert Remo's independence. He rallied his people, drawing on their collective sense of identity and purpose, and in 1938, his efforts bore fruit. The colonial government, perhaps recognizing the tide of local sentiment, granted Remo political and financial autonomy. In that moment, Adedoyin was not merely a king—he was a symbol of resistance, a leader who had carved out a space for his people in the colonial world.
With this newfound autonomy came greater power for Adedoyin. He was now the paramount ruler in Remo, overseeing the activities of the local administration, the migrant Sabo area, and even the police force. His reign, once marked by the cautious navigation between colonial forces and traditional authority, now found itself defined by the consolidation of power. Like a river that broadens and deepens over time, his influence expanded. His son, Adeleke, would go on to join the National Council of Nigeria and the Cameroons (NCNC), a political party led by the formidable Nnamdi Azikiwe, further cementing the Akarigbo’s political influence and connection to the broader Nigerian nationalist movement.
Yet, like all rulers, Adedoyin’s reign was not without its challenges. His leadership came at a time of political flux, as traditional power structures were constantly shifting beneath the weight of colonial rule and emerging nationalist movements. While he had consolidated power within Remo, the forces of modernity—both political and cultural—were pushing against the boundaries of his kingdom. His alignment with the colonial system, though pragmatic, did not shield him from the growing currents of nationalist sentiment that would eventually sweep across Nigeria. And yet, Adedoyin’s legacy remained tied to his ability to balance these forces, to hold together the delicate equilibrium of Remo’s traditional ways and the encroaching tide of change.
HRM Oba William Christopher Adedoyin’s reign came to an end in 1952, but his legacy remained indelible. Like the roots of a tree that anchor it in place, his contributions to the development of Remo, both in terms of infrastructure and political autonomy, ensured that his name would be remembered long after his passing. The course he charted for Remo, through the turbulent waters of colonialism and the rising winds of nationalism, was one of cautious yet determined leadership. He was, in many ways, a man of his time—a bridge between the ancient and the modern, a ruler who knew that to hold sway, one must learn to read both the stars and the shifting tides.
New era of Awolesi:1952-1988
After Adedoyin died in 1952, Obafemi Awolowo, an emerging Yoruba leader, supported the installation of Awolesi, a member of his party, the Action Group, as the new Akarigbo of Ofin. This move allowed Awolowo to shift the resentment some Remo towns had towards the ruler into political camaraderie, as Awolesi was now viewed as representing their party's political beliefs.
HRM Awolesi Moses Sowemimo, born to the soil of Shagamu in Remo Kingdom, in 1894, was like a mighty river that carved its path through the ever-changing landscape of history. His birth, like the first drops of rain in the parched earth, marked the beginning of a journey that would transform both him and the people he was destined to lead.
The year was 1904 when the young sowed his first seeds of knowledge at Wesley School, Sagamu. As the years unfurled, the boy grew not only in stature but in wisdom, like a sapling reaching toward the sun. By the time he entered Wesleyan Boys High School, Lagos in 1911, he had already begun to craft his identity, each book he opened like a new chapter in the story of a man who would one day wear the crown of his ancestors. The corridors of learning echoed with the rustling of pages, and in his heart, a quiet but resolute ambition stirred.
In 1912, the College of Preceptors stood as a gatekeeper to the world beyond formal education, and Moses stepped through, his mind sharp as the edges of a freshly forged blade. His determination was clear; he would not just survive the world, but shape it. A year later, he faced the Civil Service Entrance Examination, his resolve as steady as a river in full flow. He passed through this challenge with ease, as though the riverbed had been shaped for his journey alone. But the path was not without its obstacles. Moses faced the Court Interpreters’ Examination in 1917, a challenge that mirrored the jagged cliffs one must scale to reach the summit of a mountain. Yet, as always, he prevailed, his ascent steady and sure.
The years that followed were a blend of service and growth, with Moses carving a path through the halls of the Nigerian Secretariat as a clerk, in 1917. His role in the Civil Service was akin to that of a blacksmith—he shaped and crafted the bureaucratic machinery that would allow the nation to function. Through the hard work of a clerk, Moses became a builder of institutions. The years flowed on like a river cutting deeper into the land. From Elder Dempster Lines & Company to becoming a sales agent for C.F.A.O., his steps echoed with the pulse of progress. Each role he held was a stepping stone toward the throne that awaited him, the crown of the Akarigbo of Ijebu Remo.
April 25, 1952, was a day that would forever mark the pages of history, like a comet blazing across the sky. On this day, Moses Sowemimo was installed as the Akarigbo, the traditional ruler of Ijebu Remo, his name now written in the blood of the land and the hearts of its people. He became the embodiment of his ancestors' dreams, the guardian of culture, the protector of heritage, and the leader of his people. This was no mere title; it was a mantle passed down through time, a legacy forged in the fires of determination and sacrifice.
As the years unfolded, the crown he wore became more than a symbol of power; it became a beacon for those who followed. In 1960, he was appointed the Leader of the Western House of Chiefs, a testament to his wisdom, foresight, and the respect he commanded among his peers. The weight of leadership rested upon his shoulders, but it was a weight he carried with grace, like a wise elder guiding the younger generation through the labyrinth of politics and tradition.
In the years following, the rewards of his service began to manifest in tangible forms. In 1953, he was awarded the Coronation Medal, a shimmering recognition of his dedication. The Medallion of Her Majesty's visit to Western Nigeria in 1956 was another milestone, a reminder of the broader world that took notice of his leadership. In 1957, the title of Justice of the Peace was bestowed upon him, further solidifying his role as a pillar of his community. In 1958, the Queen's Silver Medal for Chiefs glittered in his hands, a sign of the reverence the crown held for him. Each honour was like a jewel in a crown that already gleamed with the light of his accomplishments.
Yet, despite the accolades, the recognition, and the honours, Moses remained a man grounded in the soil of his heritage. He was not merely a ruler; he was a father, a protector of his own. Married and father to 18 children, he was a symbol of familial strength, a man whose legacy would continue through the generations that followed him. Like a tree that stretches its branches wide, Moses’s roots went deep into the earth, ensuring that his family, his people, and his culture would endure.
And so, the journey of HRM Awole Moses Sowemimo is a tale of transformation—of a boy born into humble beginnings who grew to become a giant, not through the might of his sword, but through the quiet strength of his will. From Shagamu to the halls of power, from the classroom to the throne, his life is a story of steady growth, of challenges, met and overcome, and of a leader who never lost sight of his purpose. Like a river that carves through the hardest rock, Moses Sowemimo’s journey is a testament to the power of resilience, wisdom, and service.
His story lives on, like a flame passed down from one generation to the next, lighting the way for those who follow in his footsteps. His legacy is not just a crown or a title; it is the enduring spirit of a man who, through service and dedication, changed the course of history. And though his earthly journey has come to an end, his impact will resonate through the ages, a quiet force that shapes the world long after he has gone.
Time may pass, and the pages of history may turn, but the name of Awole Moses Sowemimo will forever echo in the hearts of those who remember the lessons he taught, the path he carved, and the legacy he left behind. Just as the river, once flowing, leaves an indelible mark on the land, so too has Moses Sowemimo left his mark on the people, the land, and the culture of Ijebu Remo.
In the realm of Lagos, where the sun never set on the hustle and bustle of its streets, Sonariwo's story began in 1936. The legend of his rise would not be carved in gold, nor written in grand tomes, but rather, it would unfold in the hearts of the people, under the gentle gaze of time. His journey was not marked by the royal luxuries many might imagine but by the grinding of daily existence, like the steady, determined beat of a drum echoing through the years. Born in Ita Eleye, Lagos State, his destiny was as unassuming as the path that stretched before him.
Sonariwo was a man whose path was shaped, not by the birthright of his title, but by the sweat of his brow and the depth of his character. From a tender age, he learned that life did not promise comfort or certainty. At six years old, when most children were lost in the embrace of their parents, he was left to wander through the wilderness of loss. The sun dipped early for him, but it did not extinguish his light. Instead, it was the crucible in which his strength was forged. Without a father, he stepped into the world of men earlier than most, a young soul wrapped in the harsh cloak of responsibility. His mother had already left this world, and his father’s death in 1942 sealed his fate as an orphan, with his world tilted, disjointed, but resilient.
He learned survival in ways that many would never understand. Raised by an aunt, with an inheritance of just £1.5 each month, he was taught not to hope for salvation, but to create it. He became a self-made man, each penny he saved, each piece of his journey added to the mosaic of his future. In the confines of Lagos, with no royal ceremonies to elevate him, he rose.
In the classroom of Methodist Boys High School, he stood among the Ijebu boys, those who hailed from a land of traders, warriors, and kings. There, in the rhythm of sports and youthful rivalry, Sonariwo’s story was painted anew. The Ijebu boys, fierce in their pride, challenged the rest of the class to a match. It was a moment of reckoning. As the Ijebu boys stood victorious, one came to him, offering the epiphany that would shape his identity: "You are an Ijebu man, as revealed by your name."
It was this moment of clarity, the moment when the truth of his roots became undeniable, that ignited a fire in his heart. From then on, he was no longer just another Lagosian. He was Ijebu, proud of his heritage, no longer blind to the blood that coursed through his veins. This self-awareness was not born out of ego, but of an understanding that one's true identity could never be hidden. Like the tides that shape the coastline, this revelation sculpted his future.
Yet, the tale of Sonariwo was not one of blind pride in his heritage alone. The story of a man is not merely the story of where he comes from, but of where he is going. After school, while many of his peers sought the horizon of England, he stayed grounded in Lagos, working diligently as a clerk in the Chief Secretary’s office. His monthly stipend was modest, but his discipline was formidable. For one full year, he saved what little he earned, quietly accumulating a fortune. While others looked toward the glittering world beyond the seas, Sonariwo knew that his destiny was unfolding one quiet step at a time.
When he eventually made his way to England in 1956, it was not with the wild dreams of an idealist. Instead, he carried with him a quiet sense of purpose. Law was his initial calling, but fate had other plans. The winds of change, much like the shifting tides, guided him towards accountancy, a profession he would excel in. In a twist of fortune, the Nigerian government announced that it was in desperate need of chartered accountants, and they would sponsor students overseas. It was a serendipitous moment, one that changed his course. From law to accountancy, the currents of life had pulled him in a new direction.
In England, his eyes opened to a world of contrasts. Though the world was different, he was not intimidated. The language of the land did not make him feel like a stranger, for he had already been acquainted with foreign ways in the classrooms and homes of expatriates in Lagos. But the true culture shock came in the simplest of things—the realization that one must sleep in a bed, not on it. A lesson learned too late, but not forgotten.
Sonariwo was a man who, even in the face of new experiences, never lost sight of the essence of who he was. His mind, sharp like the edge of a blade, was as grounded as his feet. When the time came for love, he met a woman whose roots were not as deeply tied to Nigeria, but to a land far away, Jamaica. In the tender embrace of their union, a new chapter began one that would lead him to father six children. His life was a testament to resilience, love, and identity—a mosaic of moments, each shaping the next.
But royal blood did not flow easily through his veins. When the Akarigbo throne became vacant in 1952, his family was torn. Some fought for the right to the stool, but politics shifted the balance. Awolesi, though not of the royal family by strict succession, became the king, and for a while, it seemed that Sonariwo’s destiny was not yet written in the stars. It was only later, in 1990, that the throne would call to him as if the years had conspired to bring him to this very moment.
Sonariwo did not fight for the throne. It was not a battle he had chosen. The family had submitted his name as if the echoes of his lineage had been quietly preparing him for the honour. He was not the man to demand the crown, but it came to him nonetheless, as if destiny itself had taken a step back and allowed him to walk into it.
On July 14, 1990, Sonariwo ascended the throne not with the fanfare of a conqueror, but with the grace of a man who had already faced the world. His story was not just one of philanthropy, but one of transformation—a man who had gone from being an orphan in Lagos to the ruler of a land. His reign would not be measured by the riches he accumulated, nor the power he wielded, but by the hearts he touched and the lives he changed.
For Sonariwo, the crown was not a symbol of power. It was a reminder of the journey he had taken—the boy who saved every penny, the young man who left everything behind to forge a new path, and the man who returned not as a stranger, but as a son of the soil. His ascension was not just a victory for him, but for the countless others who, like him, had fought against the tides of fate and emerged victorious. His life, a metaphor for the struggle of the human spirit, remains an enduring testament to the power of resilience, identity, and the quiet strength of a life lived with purpose.
The history continues with Akarigbo Ajayi; time will reveal his future achievements.
By Dr Babalola Adesanya-Shine
