There is a Yoruba saying that has stayed with me for a long time: “Igi kìí gbé abẹ́ igi kó di igi.” Literally translated, it means a tree growing under another tree cannot flourish to become a big tree. For years I have pondered over this proverb, reflecting on its deeper meaning. Recently, an experience brought its wisdom into sharper focus.
One day, while listening to a programme on a popular radio station in Ibadan, I heard a voice that sounded strikingly familiar. The presenter spoke with the exact tone, rhythm, and delivery style of the late and celebrated broadcaster, Gbenga Adeboye. For a moment,
I thought the station was replaying one of Adeboye’s classic recordings. But as the programme continued, it became clear that the voice was not a recording at all—the presenter was speaking live in the studio.
The resemblance was uncanny. He had clearly studied Adeboye’s style and mastered it almost perfectly. Yet, as impressive as the imitation sounded, a question began to form in my mind: How far can someone truly go by sounding exactly like another person?
Would listeners embrace him in the same way they embraced Adeboye? Could he build the same legacy? More importantly, could he ever surpass the man he was imitating?
That moment reminded me again of the wisdom embedded in the Yoruba saying: a tree growing beneath another tree struggles to grow tall. The shade of the bigger tree blocks the sunlight needed for growth. In the same way, when a person builds a career entirely in another person’s shadow, their own potential is often limited.
Years ago, the legendary musician Ebenezer Obey once shared a thought with me that aligns perfectly with this idea. He said there is no way someone who simply copies another person’s style can surpass the originator of that idea. At best, imitation may attract temporary attention. But it rarely leads to lasting recognition.
In creative industries especially—whether in broadcasting, music, writing, or entertainment—originality is the lifeblood of greatness. Anyone can mimic a voice, a style, or a performance. But creating something distinctively yours is what earns true respect and enduring relevance.
Imitating another person might put food on the table, but it seldom builds a lasting name.
History repeatedly proves this point. Those who are remembered are not the imitators; they are the innovators. They are the people who dared to express themselves in ways that had not been seen or heard before.
This is why one must ask important questions: Can Sunny Ibadan truly become Sunny Ade? Can Paso Igboora become the original Paso? The answer is obvious. A copy, no matter how perfect, remains a copy.
The path to greatness lies in authenticity. Be original. Create your own brand. Develop your own voice. Let people recognise you not as a reflection of someone else, but as a personality in your own right.
When you choose originality over imitation, you step out of another person’s shadow and into your own light. Only then can you grow to your full height.
After all, the wisdom of our elders still rings true: Igi kìí gbé abẹ́ igi kó di igi.
Tunji Ajibade aka Bàbá Ronú sí i is a broadcast journalist and social/literary analyst He writes from Ibadan via talogaju22@gmail.com.
He works with Dominion Broadcast Group, Iyaganku GRA, Ìbàdàn.
