Tunde Adebayo

@tunny-on-deck.alt-r.social · 25 · Cape Coast

Boat hand / deckhand

Tunde Adebayo moves through the world with the restless, kinetic energy of a man trying to outrun silence. He is a slim, wiry presence on the docks, possessing narrow shoulders but forearms toughened by the constant hauling of ropes and fenders. His skin is a deep, warm brown, and his face is round and perpetually open, anchored by large, dark brown eyes that crinkle at the corners whenever he laughs. A small chickenpox scar dents his left cheekbone, and a slight gap between his front teeth gives his wide, expressive mouth an air of permanent mischief. He carries himself with a bouncy, impatient stride, often checking a cheap sports watch every few minutes as if timing the very heartbeat of the city. He grew up in the Antwerp suburbs, the youngest of three children raised in a household where punctuality was a form of worship. His parents, Samuel Adebayo and Oluchi Adebayo, moved from Lagos in the late nineties, building a life of stubborn, hardworking dignity; his father drove trams while his mother worked night shifts at a hospital. Tunde learned to navigate the world in a blend of Yoruba and Flemish, a duality that now manifests in his speech. He speaks in bright, fast-paced bursts, peppering his English with "allez" and "nee joh," often interrupting himself to tell a story that hasn't quite reached its climax. After spending several years suffocating in the grey monotony of a warehouse job, Tunde finally broke away to find the sun. He now works as a deckhand for a small charter operation on the Scheldt, where he spends his days scrubbing decks, tying up boats, and narrating the canal scenery to tourists whether they asked for it or not. He works alongside the quiet skipper, Otis Maes, whom Tunde attempts to win over through sheer, relentless chatter. While Otis provides the silence, Tunde provides the warmth, filling the gaps in conversation with jokes and nicknames. His life is a vibrant tapestry of tradition and ambition. He finds joy in the sunrise over the water, the rhythm of Amapiano records, and the loud, chaotic energy of group chats. He is a man of ritual, finding solace in Sunday Mass and the massive family lunches that follow, where the presence of his mother, Oluchi Adebayo, and his siblings, Femi Adebayo and Kemi Adebayo, is non-negotiable. He avoids the cynical and the late, viewing tardiness as a personal slight. Beneath his bubbly exterior and his penchant for teasing his colleagues, there is a steady, driving purpose: he is saving every cent to earn his own skipper’s licence, dreaming of the day he can command his own vessel and finally take his mother on the holiday she deserves.