As soon as the devotion was over, it was time for routine announcements- an exclusive function of the Principal. He walked into the hall with his agbada ,wearing a serious look that suggested that the business of the day was not a laughing matter. I didn’t write anything about the Principal in the article (maybe in the headline) so, I wasn’t expecting any bombshell but his first statement signalled a vista of fury. He roared: ” Your friend, Dapo Thomas is at it again.”
There was a “hmmmmm” vibration all over the hall. At this time, I was steaming with lukewarm rage about what the Head boy did. Why did he have to report his classmate to the Principal for what was purely a harmless missive. I was not smiling nor was I frowning. I must confess that I had never found myself in a situation of fear that would harass my soul or grill my spirit despite the fact that I am human.
I couldn’t remember developing any strategy for fear but I know that I possess an inner mechanic that subdues the engine of fright. It is written: “For everything there is a season and a time for every matter under heaven”. Therefore, I confront my seasons with necessitous prescriptions only when they occur.
The Principal continued: ” He has written an article to abuse me and my administration. He titles it “The Adidas Orchestra”. I will read it for you.” He went ahead to read it for the “General Assembly”. The Principal was a man of drama. He read the article in a dramatic fashion that got the whole hall reeling with laughter . The part that infuriated him most was this: “The Adidas Orchestra sing like frogs, eat like pigs, act like goats, behave like rams, bark like dogs and rule like Snowball and Boxer of the Animal Farm. If members of the Orchestra read this article, they will conclude that 4040 is calling them animals. Have I called them animals?” The entire hall laughed and laughed with some of them making side comments. Reacting to this paroxysmal laughter, the Principal exclaimed: “You are all laughing.
You will soon cry for him. Your friend is saying that I am a bad administrator for picking animals as prefects. That means I am an animal too. I know some of you call me “Adidas” because of the marks on my face. When a student starts insulting the school authorities, it depicts the level of his indiscipline and recalcitrance. Here is my decision.”
“In my capacity as the Principal of Comprehensive High School , Ayetoro, I hereby place Dapo Thomas aka 4040, on indefinite suspension. Not just that. Dapo Thomas is hereby banished from the school. Not only that. Dapo Thomas is also banished from Ayetoro indefinitely. Not just that. Dapo Thomas will be deported to Abeokuta (the address he gave us) and I am going to personally enforce the deportation today. The school has had enough of his incorrigibility. Thank you all.”
The Principal did not ask for reactions. He walked out of the hall without talking to me. He did not ask for my address, so, I was wondering where he got the Abeokuta address from. I later remembered that that was the address I wrote on my form. Because of the circumstances under which I obtained my form, the teacher who helped me to collect the admission form asked me if I knew anyone in Abeokuta and I answered in the affirmative. He said I should write the Abeokuta address for purpose of expediency.
I , however, told him that I had not seen my aunty who lived in Abeokuta for years. He said it didn’t matter. But I also remembered that I didn’t write any address, I only wrote a description:”The house in front of Mosalasi Jimoh, Iporo Sodeke, Ake, Abeokuta.” It was very amazing that Baba Ibikunle converted description to address. At a glance, everything going on around me looked like a nice scene from a history book titled: ” The Deportation of Alaafin of Oyo by the Action Group in 1954″. According to the narrative, Oba Adeniran Adéyemí II was deported to Ilesha from Oyo by the Action Group for cursing Chief Bode Thomas (no relation of mine) to bark like a dog. Bode Thomas who was 35 years old insulted the Alaafin who was in his 60s. For more than 24 hours, Bode Thomas kept barking like a dog till he died. The AG which was the ruling Party decided to depose the Alaafin and sent him on exile.
Here I was in the school Urvan bus, marooned by about five teachers to my left and to my right with the school Principal sitting majestically behind the driver. We were on our way to Abeokuta. I was told to get all my belongings from the hostel. The next thing I knew was that I was with the Principal in the school bus. I had always associated banishment to royalty, not academia. I probably was the first student in History to be banished from school and from a town. I probably was also the first student in the country (or in the world) to be deported . I didn’t know if the Principal had the permission of the Olu of Ayetoro but I was sure he didn’t have the authority to banish anybody from the town when he was not “Baba Oba”. In addition, does the Constitution of the country recognise anything like banishment?
Anyway, Baba Ibikunle banished and deported me in a country with President and Governors, Kings and Chiefs, law and order. The school was calm when we left. There was no sign that there would be any protest by the students. Normally, immediately students left the hall, they would go straight to their classes. Again, they may be thinking I knew how to handle the Principal not knowing that I was on my way to Abeokuta to begin a new life in exile.
It was when we got to Mosalasi Jimoh at Iporo Ake that I knew that it was from my admission form that the Principal got the address. He brought out the form, read it and told the driver to park the vehicle for me to come down. One of the teachers brought out my luggage and they drove off without saying anything to anyone and having successfully deported me to “my new house and school”. It was right in front of my Aunty’s shop. It was a strange meeting between an Aunty and her nephew who last met in 1967 about 13 years ago. We had to start asking questions from each other in order to build this new meeting on something concrete because the aunty I was looking at was a different person from the aunty I knew. She too was confused as she kept saying “o ti dagba to yi?” (you are a big boy now). She wanted to know why I came to Abeokuta. I lied to her. I told her we came for two weeks excursion or was my exile not an excursion?
Meanwhile, so many things kept flooding my mind and loading in my brain. Could Senior find out that I had been “banished” from school (I didn’t understand why S.A Ibikunle used the word “banished”? Was he just being hyperbolic or unnecessarily sensational?) What would be Senior’s reaction towards me if he found out? Also, I needed to come up with strategy for my recall to school immediately because the promotion exams would be taking place in June and my set was the last set of HSC. The UPN government had cancelled HSC .
Another task was that I had to look for an alternative accommodation. My Aunty’s house was out of my calculation. It wasn’t a safe place that could withstand exile odyssey. Though I had not gone on exile before, I knew it was not a ticket for Epicurean vacation. Rather, it was an opportunity for gladiatorial strategisation. I was thinking about this when a thought came to my mind. I remembered that my friend and roommate, Dele Adegbenro, the grandchild of DS Adegbenro was under the weather and was not in school as at the time of my banishment. He stayed in their family house at Lafenwa. Dauda Soroye Adegbenro who built the house was a national leader of the Action Group and the Minister of Land and Labour in the First Republic. The family had a strong influence in Ogun State politics and local affairs. At a time like this, there was no small influence. I had been to the house with Dele on one or two occasions. It would be easy to locate at Lafenwa considering its conspicuity. I told my Aunty I was going out to see a friend that I may sleep over in their house. She obliged.
This was around 12 noon. I was at the Adegbenros before 1pm. Fortunately, I met my friend at home. I told him what just happened to me that morning. He was astounded. We discussed it with delectable sobriety. Without wasting much time, I had to locate OGBC to see a journalist friend for us to start a press war rapidly against Baba Ibikunle. Their 3:30pm news was a national news and I was told that the Governor, Bisi Onabanjo listened to it with enthusiastic addiction. I got to the Radio station at the right time with my friend putting some materials together for the national news.
As soon as he heard my story, he put it in the national news package right away. The following day, I sneaked into Ayetoro under the cover of darkness. It was around 8pm. I avoided going to the school but hid myself in a friend’s house in the town. Tajudeen Olagesin was my classmate but he was a day student. He took very good care of me for the 5 days I was in his house. As a friend, I told him the implications of being discovered in his house. Therefore, we had to be very discreet in the number of people that would visit me in his house. I had a list of the people I wanted to see urgently and significantly.
Among those on my priority list were my close associates who would give me information on the impact of the news in the school and how the management felt about it. The second category of people I wanted to see were my 12 disciples. They would supply me the details of students’ opinions and views on what the school did to me. And lastly, in a moment like this, there was need for “succour infrastructure” (Copyright DT) . You would naturally want to see and assure “the succour engineers” that all would be well if they also played their part accordingly. They were tactically and technically vital to my mental fertility at a time like this.
After spending five days in Ayetoro, I went back to Abeokuta on Saturday, 19 April 1980 with the information I gathered from those who visited me in Olagesin’s house. My plan was to discuss the reactions with my journalist friend and map out a follow-up strategy on our propaganda against Baba Ibikunle. Besides, Adegbenro would be going back to school on Sunday, 20 April after his recuperation.
I was to meet with the family head, Chief Niyi Adegbenro that Saturday night as part of our influence mopping initiative. When I met him, he assured me that he would intervene as soon as he was back from a working trip abroad. As an influential member of the National Party of Nigeria (NPN), he was one of the NPN members traveling abroad with President Shehu Shagari. After my meeting with the Adegbenro scion that evening, I went to another friend’s house to seek “exile hibernation” from him. I couldn’t continue to stay with the Adegbenros because my friend, Dele Adegbenro, was going back to school on Sunday. The friend I went to see was willing to assist but I rejected the offer immediately I saw that his house was littered with posters and images of JESUS. Yes, I had an issue with JESUS. I knew I was my Church organist back in Lagos and church and school organist in Compro but things had changed. In my literature class in Compro, the teacher who taught us poetry, Mr Cain, a white man, was an atheist.
He taught us phenomenalism and based on that lecture, I decided to “upgrade” my knowledge of life and spirituality by redefining my relationship with GOD without JESUS. I had to establish a fresh apotheosis by not giving any role to JESUS in my interaction with GOD. I fell in love with Cain’s sophism and I adopted it as my new existentialist creed. This new construct had nothing to do with my belief in GOD or with GOD’s supremacy over other deities in the polytheistic organogram, It only attempted a redefinition of my existence in lieu of my new creed: “GOD without JESUS”.
Well, I slept in the Adegbenro’s house till Sunday. The only problem I had was where to sleep on Sunday night because I was to see my OGBC friend on Monday to resolve two issues: one, intensification of our media campaign against Baba Ibikunle and two, hibernation for the period of exile. I had no option than to go back to my aunty’s place and “manage” for only Sunday night.
On Monday, 21 April 1980, things started happening faster than I expected. I met my journalist friend in his office on that Monday but it was not a cheering meeting. He told me that the Management had stopped the airing of any news on my issue because it was capable of causing unrest in the school and the government would not be happy with any eruption of violence in any of its secondary schools. He promised to take me to see Mr Kunle Olasope to talk to the Commissioner for Education, Mr Akin Ogunpola .
Mr Olasope, an influential radio broadcaster, was my friend’s boss where he worked before. On the issue of hibernation, he said that was no problem as he would take me to his family house in Obantoko. He assured me that there were many unoccupied rooms in their family house therefore, it wouldn’t be a problem to stay in the house for as long as I wanted. I was so happy. Without wasting much time, we went to Mr Olasope who took us to see the Commissioner.
The Commissioner, who also had a daughter in the school, Bukola Ogunpola, told me point-blank that the Principal was his former teacher and as such, he couldn’t give him any directive regarding my case. So, I should look for some elders in my family to go and beg him. In short, he was saying my recall was the Principal’s prerogative . That was the first blow of the day.
From there, we went to the family house at Obantoko. It was a sprawling mansion with incontrovertible exhibits and memorabilia of anciency. The house had a scanty humanity that lacked vitality. The few women I saw in the house were old . They all looked more like deity attendants and remaining wives of Oduduwa.
The environment was not only bucolic, it was rustic. In my other friend’s house, I saw posters and images of JESUS everywhere, here in this decrepit mansion, assorted culinary menu like pap, eggs, palm oil, dried fish etc littered everywhere as if the deities just finished eating Sara (sacrificial menu) without supervision. Even though the mansion looked like a residential apartment, I think calling it a totem museum would have been more appropriate. I ran away from a house decorated with the posters and images of JESUS, here, I could see the statuettes of “Esu” and his convoy, drenched and soaked in palm oil live and direct.
My friend looked at my face in bewilderment and asked me if it was okay. I had never in my life seen anything like this before but I hated anything that would portray me as a coward to anybody. I said yes, I would stay there. He took me to my new room upstairs. Ahhhhhhh, it was a mini-shrine. I asked him if I could remove all the “packages” in the room and the old woman who was taking us round shouted “eewọ”. That was when I realized that “I have entered my own”.
And my pride couldn’t make me to change my mind. They later showed me one that had no ” ritual remnants”. My friend later left and I was on my own in the mansion of thousand deities. It was almost 8pm. My first night in the mansion was spent doing a compulsory vigil that was not convoked nor recognized by any church. That was the night I ended my fight with JESUS as I did the sign of the cross more than a thousand times to ensure that every deity was properly served the last supper. In the afternoon when we came, you could hardly know there were people in that house. It was very quiet.
But from 12 midnight till 6am, the noise and movements around the house were unimaginable. Despite locking my door, “those things” kept banging and knocking it playfully. I didn’t even make any attempt to open the door. Who did I know in Abeokuta that would be looking for me at 2am? It was that night I knew I “was not hard at all”. There was no Bible to read for defence. That was why I kept doing the sign of the cross as if it was a “machine gun”. The signs of the cross I did that night alone were enough to cover for the six to seven months I severed relations with JESUS.
No wonder JESUS was a friend to Zacchaeus the tax collector. HE collected all outstanding signs of the cross with interest and also collected tithe. Anyway, I survived the harassment and intimidation of those “mansion terrorists”. That was the longest night in my life.
