Omolara ‘bisi Olabanji

Lawyer

I was 11 years old when my name changed- completely by accident. At the time, I had been given what felt like a very grown-up responsibility: filling out the Common Entrance Examination form for my admission into junior secondary school. In my home country Nigeria, this exam is the bridge from childhood to the next chapter of your education. 

I remember leaning over the form with the seriousness of someone about to sign a peace treaty, determined to impress my meticulous parents. I filled in my details carefully, or so I thought. I vividly remember the structure of the form being “Middle name, First name, and Last name” which I followed: Omolara Adebisi Ketiku. Weeks later when my results came in, I opened my first official certificate (apart from my birth certificate) and froze. The order had switched! It came back exactly like this “KETIKU, Omolara Adebisi”. What used to be my middle name now appeared as my first name. That one clerical twist—by the processing office—became permanent.  

Even after over 30 years, the change is hard to explain. People would see the “official” Omolara on documents and titles, then hear friends and family call me ’bisi (short for Adebisi) and look utterly confused. Maintaining ’bisi as my everyday name is the consequence for ‘my name in action vs my name in the books’.  

Still, I am grateful for my mother’s early advice about consistency. As such, I have left Omolara as my first on all my important documents. 

Looking back, I realize life often changes our course without asking permission. We may resist at first, but with time and the right perspective, those detours often hold the richest lessons. 

As I grew older, I began to understand the gift in having both names. In Yoruba culture, names aren’t just labels; they are stories, blessings, and hopes for the person who bears them. Omolara speaks to the joy and value of family, kinship, and community. It is no surprise that I find deep joy in gathering friends and family, and in maintaining the ties that hold people together. 

             Life, of course, had more plot twists for me.

Becoming a lawyer was another unexpected turn. It wasn’t my original plan. I only found my way there after realizing my struggles with mathematics might not make my preferred course of study the best fit. That “detour” became a thriving public sector career, one that took me to more than 20 countries and gave me the privilege of learning from diverse histories, cultures, foods, and people. 

And then, the biggest switch yet: my family’s decision to begin again in Canada. This chapter is still unfolding, and it is giving me the chance to serve people in deeply meaningful ways through my work at Panko Collaborative Law and Mediation—helping them through some of life’s most difficult situations. 

So when you walk through our doors, know this: we understand that life changes can be unexpected, unplanned, and sometimes even unwanted. But we also know they can lead you somewhere beautiful. Because my story- my names, my career, my journey, has taught me this: every twist has the potential to bring you exactly where you’re meant to be.