I have read many opinions about the late singer, Evangelist Bunmi Akinnaanu, popularly known as Omije Oju Mi, following renewed conversations around the album song that shot her into the limelight.
The album, released in 2004, featured the ECWA Church Choir, Mushin, Lagos, with Bunmi Akinnaanu as the lead singer.
Now, the church choir operated under a constitution, one of whose rules prohibited choir members from forming a band or pursuing independent musical careers unless they formally exited both the choir and the church.
However, Omije Oju Mi became widely associated with Bunmi herself. Her voice, delivery, and emotional depth made the song inseparable from her identity, and invitations to minister began to pour in. Subsequent releases after she left the church further affirmed her as a gifted and impactful gospel singer.
Yet, controversy followed.
It was rumoured that she breached the choir’s rules by continuing to sing and allegedly profit from the song after leaving the church, despite repeated warnings to regularise or amend her position.
Whether she completely stopped performing the song remains unclear. What is clear is that she went on to build a solid body of work beyond that collaboration, firmly establishing herself as one of the brightest stars to emerge from the ECWA Choir.
At the heart of this controversy lies a recurring and often poorly understood issue in church music spaces: copyright and intellectual property rights.
According to reports, Omije Oju Mi was originally composed by a male choir member from the church in Ilorin, before Bunmi Akinnaanu was selected to lead the song. If this is accurate, then several legal questions arise:
Who owned the copyright to the composition?
The composer automatically owns the copyright to a song unless it is assigned in writing.
Who owned the sound recording?
If the church financed, organised, and recorded the album, it may own the master recording, even if Bunmi was the lead vocalist.
Was there a written agreement?
In many church settings, there is none.
Choir constitutions often regulate conduct and discipline but do not clearly address intellectual property, royalties, performance rights, or commercial exploitation.
Was the song licensed to Bunmi-Akinnaanu for performance after she left the church?
Without a licence or written consent, performing or monetising the song could amount to infringement, even if she was the voice that made it famous.
These are uncomfortable but necessary conversations.
Churches often function on goodwill, spirituality, and trust, but music, gospel or secular remains subject to the same copyright laws. Talent does not cancel ownership, and anointing does not replace documentation. Where rights are not clearly defined, disputes are almost inevitable.
Sadly, this would not be the last time churches and their singers clash over ownership, recognition, and compensation. Many established gospel artists began their journeys in church choirs, only to later face similar conflicts rooted in poorly defined agreements.
There were also speculations about the cause of Bunmi Akinnaanu’s ailment before her eventual death. These remain speculative and should be treated with caution and compassion. What should concern us more is the lesson her story leaves behind.
In songwriting, composition, performance, rights, and royalties, whether in gospel or secular music, nothing should be left to chance.
Legal language matters.
Conflicts should be ironed out early. Roles must be defined. Rights must be assigned or licensed. Royalties must be clarified. Lawyers are available to separate the blurry areas and reduce emotional disputes to clear, binding agreements.
It is deeply sad that such a bright star dimmed too early.
May her soul rest in perfect peace.
