As usual, there were some students around the Principal’s office when we got there. It looked like a whole class that was in trouble. A teacher had gone to report the class for a particular offence and the Principal summoned every member of the class to his office. The moment they saw me, they started cheering me loudly, some coming to shake my hands putting aside their own problems with the Principal. I couldn’t really say if the Principal was already coming to meet them downstairs or it was because he heard the students cheering me.
He met me and my Aunty downstairs. The man was not nice to me at all in the presence of my cheering fans. The first thing he said was: ” Ewo lo tun lo wa leni? ” Meaning, which jazz did you come with today? Surprisingly, he didn’t stop me from prostrating on that day because the moment he made the statement, I just lay flat on the ground in a surrender mode saying: ” Mi o lo nkankan wa Sir. Mo wa bebe ni.” Meaning: ” have not come with anything Sir, I am here on appeasement mission”. I was amazed to see all the students prostrating and kneeling for the Principal, begging on my behalf. It was an emotional moment for all of us.
My Aunty who was still standing didn’t know when she went on her knees. As an elderly person himself, the Principal pulled her up and told us to go and wait for him in the office , according to him, he had a lot to tell my Aunty about my last visit with my surrogate family. We all got up. While going upstairs with my Aunty, I made a thank you gesture to the students for their solidarity. My Aunty and I went upstairs leaving the Principal to address the students on their own issue. This friendly reception by the Principal was achieved without “eyonu ayé”. On the day of “eyonu ayé”, the tension was palpable right from the moment we got to the Principal’s office. Students were greeting me, I couldn’t respond because of the “chewing gum” that was in my mouth. The present scenarios indicated that there was hope that Baba Ibikunle would play ball.
When he came back upstairs, unlike my first visit with Olori Ebi and the remaining wives of Oduduwa, Baba ushered my Aunty and I into his private office. My Aunty sat while I stood. Then the Principal fired the first salvo: “Please Mama”, referring to my Aunty, “what are you to him?” My Aunty replied: “I am his father’s elder sister Sir.” Principal: “Is he actually living with you?” “No”, was my Aunty’s immediate reply. I know elderly people love telling stories, my Aunty’s passion for story-telling was bewildering. She told the Principal the history of the family from 1856. How my great grandfather , Richards Odeliyi Thomas came to Lagos from Sierra Leone as a merchant cum settler to build a mansion in a street in Lagos Island that was later named after him-Richards Lane. According to her narrative “my great grandfather had six children but two of them were very famous.
The first son, Josiah Akinwande Thomas and the second son, Christopher .A. Thomas. The first son, Akinwande, was one of the first Railway workers in Nigeria in 1900. After doing a marvelous job for Railways in Lagos, he was posted to Abeokuta as a station manager in the first decade of the 20th century. He became so famous in Abeokuta that he was made one of the traditional Chiefs of Egbaland. In fact, he was the Regent when the then Alake of Egbaland Sir Ladapo Ademola went on exile to Osogbo following the 1948 Ẹgba women riot led by Mrs Funmilayo Ransome-Kuti. He (Akinwande) was the one that built that house in Iporo Sodeke (Ake) where you dropped him on that day. The second son of Richards Odeliyi Thomas, Christopher, was married to the daughter of the famous Dehinde Candido da Rocha.” Both Richards Thomas and Da Rocha were good friends who later became in-laws.
There was no doubt that the Principal was enjoying the story because, at this stage, he asked my Aunty if she needed water. He then called his secretary to bring the water. He even instructed the secretary not to allow anybody into his office until we finish except “it was a matter of life and death”. I was surprised that attention now shifted from me to my Aunty going by the Principal ‘s next questions to my Aunty: “Are you living permanently in Abeokuta and how did you come to stay in Abeokuta?” At this stage, I had started smiling “muse, muse” (stylishly) because “all things had started working together for my good.” Really, my Aunty was very beautiful for a woman in her early 50s. Besides, she was single. She lost her husband some years back. She had no child for him before his death. Baba Ibikunle was in his late 50s too. He was happily married but the way the conversation was going, anything could happen, I mean, I could be recalled that very day. I was so happy I came with my luggage. My Aunty now answered his questions: “Yes, I live permanently in Abeokuta. I live in that same house you dropped him.
I came to Abeokuta to take care of my father, Akinwande Thomas who had lost all his wives.” I was enjoying everything because I knew it would end in praise for me. Then, I became the focus of the discussion again: “4040, from what your Aunty has said so far, you are from a very noble family, a reputable one at that, where did you meet all those funny characters who came to intimidate me with antimony?” I explained everything to him the way it was, disclosing to him that I didn’t know about those things until we we got to the school. He told my Aunty that he knew immediately when he saw how strange those people were looking with their antimony. “Sugbon, oun (referring to me) o ba won lè tiro” meaning 4040 had no antimony on his face.”
Despite that, the Principal still talked about the “eyonu ayé chewing gum”: “His own was an object in the mouth and he kept shouting “e gba mi pada Sir” as if I didn’t know that he had something in his mouth. He didn’t even say anything more than “e gba mi pada Sir.” Anyway, I told him in the presence of his surrogate family that I would not recall him even if he licked his lips sore.”
He then told my Aunty all the troubles I had caused since I got to the school. “I would have expelled him that very day I brought him to your house in Abeokuta”. My Aunty interrupted him: “I am sorry to interrupt you sir. By the way, why didn’t you come down on the day you brought him Sir? I would have known the truth. He told me he came for excursion for two weeks yet he did not sleep in the house more than three times or so.” The Principal: ” I didn’t know if your husband was at home.
Besides, I was not in any entertainment mood. Maybe next time, I will have time for entertainment. My plan was to drop him in his house so that he wouldn’t go and hide in any of his friends’ house in Ayetoro.” I was wondering what the Principal meant by “next time”. “Nibo la tun jasi bayi?” meaning: “Is this part of my case or something else?” Anyway, my Aunty disclosed to him that her husband was late. I could see a change in the Principal ‘s expression but I pretended as if I didn’t know anything. All of a sudden, the Principal ended my own side of the conversation like this:” You can go and take your luggage to the hostel.
But your Aunty will have to sign an undertaking that if you misbehave again, I will send you out of the school finally”. I was so excited with the news that I rushed out of the Principal’s office after a prolonged rolling on the floor. I went downstairs to get my luggage. Some of my 12 disciples who got to know that I was in the Principal’s office had laid a siege around the office just to catch a glimpse of their “school father”. When I beckoned to them to come, they were somehow scared and hesitant until I made a sign to them that I had been recalled.
They ran towards me to help in taking my luggage to the hostel. I didn’t follow them to the hostel because I still had to escort my Aunty to Ayetoro garage to take a bus to Abeokuta. I waited downstairs gisting with some students on the outcome of my meeting with the Principal. When I didn’t see my Aunty after about 15 minutes, I went back to the Principal’s office to see how far with the undertaking. When I got upstairs, I didn’t see any sign of undertaking apart from the undercurrents that my Aunty was enjoying their conversation. In order not to disturb their discussion, I excused them by telling my Aunty that I would wait for her downstairs so that I could follow her to the garage.
It was the Principal who replied that his driver would take her to the garage, therefore, I didn’t need to wait for her. He said I should go to the class since it was not yet closing time. I prostrated again for the Principal to thank him profusely for his magnanimity towards my Aunty, sorry, towards me. This was our new arrival point.
It was an ecstatic return to the school as students started trooping towards me shouting congratulations 4040. There was no doubt that most of the students were happy to see me back in school. I couldn’t say if all the prefects were. I had to hurriedly leave the vicinity of the Principal’s office because the whole thing was getting rowdy and noisy. I didn’t know whether to go to the hostel or go to my class. Knowing that the girls wouldn’t be able to follow me to the hostel and I didn’t want to disrupt the lesson going on in my class, I took my welcome party to the dinning hall to continue with our jubilation. I was there until it was lunch time.
Wow, I had never seen this kind of celebration before. Those who led the celebration were members of the Dramatic Society who started singing and dancing, turning bowls and cups to drum sets while my musical group led by Yetunde Durojaiye, Lamide Ìdòwú, Folahan Sodeke, Moji Ogunnaike, Funke Akinleye and Bose Olukoya supplied the songs. It turned out to be a variety afternoon.
The dinning hall was electrified with folklore and contemporary songs, traditional dances and cultural gyrations. It was a triumphant return embalmed in the morgue of history for characters that revel in indulgences. Like I had perceived, it all ended in praise. The jollification continued in my hostel (Blue House) till the wee hours. It was a glorious “unbanishment” celebration.
My objective for now was to pass my promotion examinations which would start 2 June 1980 while my goal was the GCE Advanced levels examination coming up in November of the same year. Like I said earlier, I wanted to write the Advanced levels examinations a year ahead of time as I did when I wrote and passed my “O” level examinations in the 1978 GCE , a year ahead of my school cert. This time around, I would be writing exams only in History and Economics since it was arduous to complete the reading of all the literature texts meant for two years in few months.
Lamentably, the Compro I left some weeks ago had changed completely. It had moved from glory to gory, from beauty to ashes and from grace to disgrace. I saw NEPA workmen digging trenches all over the school premises trying to erect new poles. This was not the Compro the American founders envisioned. What the founders did was conduit cabling with feeder sub-stations that supplied electricity to the entire school. It was to protect the wiring (flexible and cable) from storm and sparks in the event of heavy rainfall. It was a solid electrication concept in theory and practice that worked for years having been properly maintained and overhauled at the right time. The servicing was done on schedule to forestall collapse from the grid.
I suspected that something was going wrong with our electricity supply right from the time we did the stage play, Obaluaye. It was the first time we would do such a thing- staging a play in the dark. Politicians lacked maintcenance culture. Rather than increase the school’s running cost, the subvention began to dwindle thereby making it difficult for the school to maintain all its assets and infrastructure.
The electricity problem had a direct consequence on water supply as there was no power to pump water into both the underground and surface tanks that littered everywhere in the school. Since there was no water to flush and clean the toilets, students adopted the “Sharp Corner Module”(a template of Obantoko’s circus) especially in the night. Darkness does not only motivate the perpetration of evil, it equally encourages “sharp and quick dislodgement of concrete artillery from the burning furnace into the bush of decay.” In less than one year that the politicians took over the school, its glamour faded rapidly thus rubbishing the honour and legacy that made the school the centrepiece of elite citadel. The Compro that used to flow with milk and honey couldn’t even flow with ordinary water as students now risked their lives walking several miles in the thick bush to the fish pond to fetch water. It was sad that this magnificent institution was gradually decaying in batches through multiple assaults on the structural and atmospheric effervescence of the school and the dignity of its literate humanity.
It was that bad that its potential for recovery was destroyed along with its capacity for restoration. When the value of restoration and recovery collapses, what you have is a descent into atrophy.
During my absence, there was no power usurpation or even any attempt to remove me from any of the Societies that I headed. I still remained the President of the Dramatic Society, the Chief coordinator of the Music Society and the Editor-in-Chief of the Gong Magazine. But there was no time to engage in any social activities as the entire school was in examinations mood. June and July have always been final and promotion examinations period in every school calendar . We wrote our exams as scheduled and by the time the results were released, I was promoted to Upper Six. My next examinations would be in November 1980. Meanwhile when we came back in September after the long break for the new and final session, I concentrated more on the Music Society than other societies.
The reason was because we had so many music competitions in the Egbado Division and at the State level during that particular session. I was still writing articles but I made sure I didn’t cross the lines. I censured myself before posting or publishing any article. The abundance of grace is not a licence for everlasting obduracy. It would be insensitive for me to keep cosseting in unconscionable activities in the season of wisdom. I cautioned myself, even to the extreme, to always show respect for engagement calendar by not dancing where people are mourning. I stayed away from trouble in order not to be tagged a rebel.
Eventually, I wrote my November GCE “A” levels exams and I passed the two papers (History and Economics) that I registered for. But they were passes that could only attract courses like PPE and Philosophy in reputable universities . I didn’t want either of the two, I wanted Law or Theatre Arts. The implication was for me to get more serious in my HSC final examinations coming up in June/July 1981.
Unfortunately, in May 1981, when I should be preparing for the Exams and celebrating one year of my return from banishment, I got myself into another trouble with Baba Ibikunle. Bosun Awaye and co. organized a party for friends in “BLUE HOUSE in town. One of our teachers, Lanre Olafimihan, was staying in the house. Other members of the organizing team included Segun Odukoya, Femi Madarikan, Seyi Alakiu, Tunji Akinyemi, Dọtun Ogunyemi, Wale Adepegba. Most of, if not all, the guests were students. Segun Omolodun, Bolaji Ololade, Dapo Thomas, Jumoke Odunnaike, Bimbo Abina, Francis Adekoya, Francis Odusanya, Tokunbo Akinyemi, Wole Adenuga, TJ, Bukky Adaramaja, Rántí Oyewusi, Morolayo Jacobs, Maria Ige, Rybes, Sade Adeluola, Li-fe (Kola Oluwole), Femi Egbo and Tokunbo Baderin.
The Party started around 8pm. It was to end by 5am the following day. As at that time 8pm, I was still in my room. I really didn’t want to go but when “my friend, who is a girl,” sent me a note around 8pm through our normal channel, that she wanted to go, I changed my mind too. Besides, the DJ did not help matter. He was playing the hits of the time with tempting invitation. The house was not far from the school and being a night party, the silence of the night was ushering in the vibration of the music into the school compound. In fact, the Principal thought the party was holding inside the school. When he heard the music, he started tracing the location of the party inside the school until his prefects told him it was outside the school. He went round all the hostels to take a rollcall. By this time, I had sneaked out of the school with “my friend who is a girl”. So, I was not in my hostel when the rollcall was taken.
Annoyed by our effontery to play the músic so loud, the Principal invaded the party with some of his prefects and armed himself with a big rechargeable lamp capable of seeing Abeokuta from Ayetoro. As soon as he parked his car and got out of the car, we knew there was trouble in the air. Immediately he stepped into the house, we turned off the light from the meter and hid the fused too. We didn’t know the Baba meant business until he turned on his lamp and the place became so bright. He almost caught me and my “load” inside the toilet where we were not doing anything. Ultimately, I escaped with my “parcel” (my friend who is a girl). The morning assembly of the following day was very interesting. He called us out and stated our offences seriatim. Of course, when he got to my name, there was laughter everywhere suggesting ” 4040 again!!!”
Our punishment was cutting of grass. Invariably, myself and the Principal became very good friends because I put the name of the school on the “World Map” for a spectacular achievement.
*To be continued*
