Oloye Akin Alabi

I’m seeing a lot of the TL is now normal. What happened to it before?

Whenever “Baba Alado” hears I’m in town, he makes sure he stops by.

I MET FEMI OTEDOLA YESTERDAY in London… and for the first time in my life, I was genuinely star-struck. The timing couldn’t have been worse. He was on a phone call, walking with purpose, and I was cycling with someone who wasn’t a confident rider, so stopping for a proper conversation wasn’t really an option. I greeted him and apologised for interrupting. To my surprise, he responded with a warm, welcoming smile. That small gesture stood out to me. In a hurry, I did what most people would: I introduced myself, asked for a quick photo, thanked him shook his hands and rode away. But from the moment I turned away, I kept replaying that moment. I told myself, “He was on a call, I didn’t want to be rude.” And maybe that was true. But maybe it was also because I wasn’t prepared for an opportunity I never expected to have. Looking back, I wish I’d asked one thoughtful question. I wish I’d taken a few minutes to learn from someone whose journey represents decades of experience, resilience, and achievement. I wish I’d shared some of the ideas I’ve been working on or asked him about his book that I’ve read a few times. Instead, I left with a selfie 🥲. And that’s when this hit me: opportunities rarely announce themselves. Sometimes they appear unexpectedly and disappear within seconds. The difference between a memorable moment and a missed opportunity is often preparation. I’m not going to dwell on what I didn’t do (I PROBABLY WILL). But I’ll take the lesson. The next time I meet someone I admire, I will try to be remembered for the conversation and not just the photo. Until then: I’ll keep learning, keep building meaningful relationships, and stay ready for whatever opportunity comes next.

There are normal boys walking around in Lagos with over 1 billion Naira in their bank accounts. Damn