In this report, DAYO OYEWO writes on the exhilarating story of septuagenarian ice cream seller Oladimeji Lawal, who’s been selling ice cream on his bicycle for over 50 years on Lagos Island
For over five decades, 75-year-old Oladimeji Lawal has spent his days pedalling through the Lagos Island area of Lagos State, selling ice cream to generations of schoolchildren and passersby.
With no pension, no retirement plan, and no company benefits, his livelihood has been tied to the wheels of his bicycle, which is his only means of survival.
At 75, while many of his age mates have long retired, Pa Lawal still rises each morning, mounts his ageing bicycle, and navigates the ever-busy streets, hoping to sell enough to get by.
For the septuagenarian, his recognition is largely confined to the streets of Lagos Island, where loyal customers rely on him as their go-to ice cream vendor. But beyond this community, his story seems almost unimaginable to those who have never encountered him.
This was the reality after an X user shared his picture recently with a surprising revelation that he had spent 57 years as an ice cream vendor.
Pa Lawal soon after the post became an internet sensation as netizens reacted in awe while some attested to this, sharing their encounter with him as far back as three decades ago.
Lawal would later bare it all during an audience with our correspondent, who, after frantic efforts to locate him in the community, eventually saw him on Okesuna Street, slightly hunched over his bicycle as he pedalled gently towards the end of the street.
Speaking in a calm voice tinged with nostalgia, Lawal, who is otherwise referred to as Felele and Pandy Joe, said he had sold Ice Cream to three generations of customers in Lagos Island.
“I have sold ice cream to two to three generations of customers. There are students whose parents bought from me when they were young, and now those same parents tell their children that I once carried them in my arms here in Lagos Island,” he said with pride.
On how his journey started on two wheels, he said, “I was born in Ibadan on July 22, 1950. I attended St. Patrick’s School in Abebi, but I only made it to Form 6 before I had to look for a job. That was how I met one Mrs. Babalola, who needed a cycle boy for her ice cream business. This was in 1968. She tested me by giving me a bicycle to ride, and when I rode it perfectly, she gave me the job. I worked on commission.”
One day, while making his rounds on the streets of Ibadan, Lawal had an accident that left him hospitalised for days.
When he recovered, some of his regular customers who visited Ibadan only during holidays advised him to move to Lagos, where the business was more profitable and less stressful.
He said, “When I got to Lagos in 1969 through one Mama Yemisi and her husband here on Lagos Island, they took me to an agent who supplies Ice Cream on Odunlami Street and stood as a guarantor for me. I spent five years there and left after the business no longer operated. So after that, I worked for another company supplying ice creams in Obalende till 1976.”
According to him, selling ice cream back then was lucrative, as he made as much as one pound and ten shillings daily.
Meanwhile, Lawal had no intention of staying long as an ice cream vendor other than to save up and become independent.
“When I moved to Lagos, there were many sales. I saw another job offer that was ready to pay well, but I turned it down. Meanwhile, I also had a plan to save up some money to get a car and go into the transport business, but I got so attached to the work that I never thought of leaving it. Also, the money I was seeing then was sustaining me,” he admitted.
Years passed, and the community evolved, and so did the ice cream business. The profits dwindled and the job became more strenuous.
This was also not without some form of regret for Lawal, as he lamented how it was late before he realised that the work he was so attached to and had sustained him over the decades did not have a retirement benefit.
He said, “ It was very late before I realised that there were no retirement benefits in this job. It happened when one of my customers saw me one day and jokingly asked when I was going to retire from this work. I was over 50 years old then, and that was when the reality hit me. I have been so much into the work that mine is just to get supplies, sell and get my commission. Of course, I replied to him and said there was no retirement on the work and that this was because it was not the company that employed me directly. The agents are the ones engaging us. By this time, the business was not what it used to be.
“Around 1986, the business was no longer as profitable as it used to be. At this point, I was gradually losing interest in the work, but I still stayed because I didn’t see any other job. I once thought of becoming an agent too, but the capital wasn’t commensurate with my earnings and savings. You will have to rent a shop, buy a freezer and other things that are needed to start up as an agent. “
By then, he already had rented an apartment in Maroko, and with careful savings, he bought a half-plot of land which he claimed was his first step toward stability.
The land in Maroko was meant to be his future, his retirement plan. He had saved diligently, buying a tipper of gravel for N90 to start construction. But in 1990, everything changed.
“The then-military administrator, Raji Rasaki, demolished the entire Maroko community. It was a day of anguish. I stood there, watching my land disappear. Back then, people didn’t talk much about Certificates of Occupancy (CofO); we just bought land and built on it. I didn’t know about it, so when the government announced that only those with CofOs would be relocated to a low-cost housing estate, I realized I had lost everything. What I had worked and saved for was gone. There was nothing I could do. Although I thank God I had not started to build on it because that would have taken my life.”
With his dream of having a property to call his own shattered with no safety net. Lawal immediately forgot the idea of retirement and had no choice but to keep pedalling.
“There was no way I could save up since then, because of commitments to the family. I also tried to seek help, but people only promised but didn’t fulfil their promises. I sold ice cream to some prominent people while they were still in school. At one point, some of them, including Princess Oyekan and one Mama Jide, contributed money to buy me a new bicycle when my old one was falling apart. I don’t want to find myself in a situation where I would be begging. So I continued my work and made the necessary provision for my family as much as I could.”
The situation of Lawal had drawn sympathy from people who knew his plight as they reached out to him and offered to help him get some benefits they felt he deserved from the Ice Cream company he works for.
Lawal, who did not oblige to such an offer, said, “I told them not to bother and that nothing was likely to come out of it because I wasn’t employed directly by the company. The only benefit I get from them is the raincoat they give us during the rainy season. And this is after the agents must have requested it from them. And the last time we were given such was about ten years ago. They used to repair our bicycles for us, but not any longer.”
At 74, Pa Lawal still pedals the streets of Lagos Island, though not as vigorously as before. His body isn’t as strong, and he takes breaks more often.
He also hoped for something more, as he desired to have a shop of his own where he would store his supplies as a form of retirement.
“I need money to open a small shop where I can store my own ice creams and soft drinks. That way, I won’t have to ride around so much. I could still move around for about two hours daily, taking products to school, but not for long hours like before. If I don’t ride my bicycle for a day, I feel weak. My body is already used to it.”
In the past five decades, during the good and the bad times, Lawal’s routine remained unchanged.
“I wake up at 8 a.m., get my supplies by 9 a.m., then go around some parts of Lagos Island before heading to schools, where I sell when students close for the day. If I have leftover products, I go around the community to sell them and close by 6 p.m.,” he revealed.
Beyond the trajectory of his work, Lagos Island became more than just a workplace for Pa Lawal—it became home.
“I met my wife here and married her in 1985. She had children for me, but she passed away five years ago. I have another wife in Ibadan. My children are doing their best, but I refuse to be a burden. I tell them not to give me money that will affect their livelihood, because they are also managing.
While he sees some of his agemates who have built wealth and success, he remains grateful for the little he has.
“At least, I am not begging for alms, and for that, I give thanks to God. What I am always mindful of is having a good name, just like Julius Berger. I am content with what I have.”
