16 — SATURDAY Vanguard, MARCH 30, 2013
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hief Oluwole Awolowo was definitely not a saint. He never had a chance. He was expected to be a “rascal”, a word freely used beyond and beside its real meaning, way back in our grapple with the English language in Yorubaland. It was affectionately used to mean no more than a “high-spirited” lad or, as someone once explained it, “extremely restless and obstinate”. His disposition was encapsulated in his nickname— Unbreakable. It was the name of a ball, the size of a tennis ball, which young boys enjoyed kicking around. Old tennis balls earlier served that purpose, but they soon burst with so much kicking around. But “unbreakable” was solid through and through, filled with layers of tightly wound rubber straps which made it virtually impossible to burst, while at the same time giving it a chunky appearance and a healthy bounce to boot. That was Wole in his youth, daring vehicles on his bicycle across Oke Bola roads in Ibadan— impossible to repress, impossible to resent, impossible to ignore.
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*dw ar *dwar arffed b byy his heritage *forgiven by his death *with one e eyye open
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was very fond of him. His elder brother, late Segun, was really my friend but it was a delight to see Unbreakable whenever he was around. His presence never failed to introduce a measure of comic relief to the company, though he was normally not loud and would even oblige with little errands, if one knew how to approach or coerce him with a little touch of blackmail. Segun •Wole Awolowo was, of course, of a sterner stuff —a musician in his own way, a t was barely weeks ago that we read raconteur after a fashion, but in every those harsh comments about Chinua consideration a philosopher of no mean mettle. When he passed away suddenly, I was induced Achebe about his last publication, “There to move closer to Wole, but the difference in was a country”. Or was it years? I wonder our ages created a gulf in respect of our how many of us would have written with as preferences, which were not too conflicting much severity as we did had we known that though not exactly on all fours. The real the end was so near then. The book was obstacle to any close relationship was Wole’s highly critical of Chief Obafemi’ s role during inbred respect for his elders, which is actually the Nigerian Civil War. It was not the first time that the famous author had expressed a sturdy trait of the Awolowo dynasty. As time rolled on, Wole found it increasingly such bitterness about the part undeniably appealing to move nearer his Maker. I first played by the man many of us take so much thought it was all on the surface. But, as if he joy in extolling as “The Sage”. Achebe had knew my feelings, he once invited me to worship feared Awo was near to being deified as soon with him at his father’s church in Ikenne on an as the former Premier of Western Nigeria Inaugural Sunday. So, to Ikenne I went. As a passed on. It was the man’s honest opinion, lay-preacher, I had my cassock and surplice in spawned out of the deep acrimony Achebe the car. I was told that Wole had become a lay- could not rid himself off. Some of his ardent preacher too, but decided not to wear my robes admirers even felt uncomfortable about the until I saw him in. He was like to the manner timing. I joined the chorus then in born when I saw him looking suited for the expressing deep disapproval of what I occasion. I then put on my robes and we characterized as an unbecoming diatribe. entered the church side by side. It was a Appropriate as I felt my stand was, a few of beautiful moment, one of the most beautiful my remarks were downright unfair. I later moments, for me. He later became a full-fledged decided that I would apologize to him at the first opportunity I had. The next time I saw Achebe after that was at the Enugu airport. I hastened to him to perform my act of contrition. But even before the opening
The horde of Northerners in our area must contain several elements of the Boko Haram
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The real obstacle to any close relationship was Wole’s inbred respect for his elders
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evangelist and gave his life to Jesus Christ as his Lord and Saviour. His achievements have been dwarfed by the enormity of his lineage. He was an astute businessman, a publisher, an evangelist, but still Awolowo’s son. That is a tough act to follow. The full realization of his potential must have been adversely affected by the unfortunate accident which he survived, but the result of which bothered him for the rest of his life. His demise has left an empty space in my heart, just as his brother’s did. Segun did not even survive long enough to live through the ghastly experience of unending medical attention; I wonder if he would have cringed from his destiny either. The Awolowos are a hardy lot. Through this tribute to my aburo, I offer my condolences to all of them - Tola, Tokunbo and Mama. Glory be to God.
which Ralph Opara, his Assistant, thought highly of and showed to him. He sent for me and asked me for how long I had been writing, and could hardly believe it when I replied that this was my first effort ever. Without any hesitation, he sat me down and discussed the title, the theme and the development of the narration with me. He assured me that I had what it takes to be a good writer. I left his office feeling like a prince. It was my first writing to be broadcast though, through the gentle nudges of the Head of Talks, some others followed. About four years later, I was transferred to Enugu where Achebe had become the Regional Controller. From time to time, he would have a quizzical smile on his face when he saw me until one day he asked me directly, “You are not writing any more?” I muttered that I was producing feature materials but would soon go further in my literary efforts. And then I fled. He seemed incapable of nursing any bitterness in his mind, but he seemed to have really had it in for Awolowo. The truth is that he wrote really beautiful things about other people, like Wole Soyinka, in that book that threatened to bring down thunder from his various critics, but that was all ignored. Several of those who would have crucified him did not seem to have taken the trouble of reading the book, anyway. It was enough that he had written about a hurt that would not be cured about their hero. Off with his head! Now, all that is forgotten. I thought it was said that “the evil men do lives after them, but the good is oft interred with their bones”? Well, so it will NOT be with Chinua. Thank God.
pleasantries were over, he broke ‘in by saying, “I see you are still writing. But as a journalist ... “ “Oh, I thought I would try my hand at writing in the newspaper first ... “, I stuttered, taken aback. “There is nothing wrong with that either,” he said as he turned round to introduce me to a friend with whom he was travelling. I was startled for two reasons. He left no room for me to apologise, though his statement indicated that he must have been reading some of what had appeared on this page. Secondly, he remembered that I had shown some promise as a writer years back when he was the Head of the Talks Department at the Nigerian Broadcasting Service, (NBS) later the Nigerian Broadcasting Corporation (NBC). I had submitted a short story for broadcasting
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They are not sleeping very well in the Ijora area of Lagos these days, or I should say IGP M.D Abubakar we are not sleeping well in this area, because that is where I live. The discovery of arms, ammunition and the suspected terrorists that must have intended to use them has exposed what we knew all along, and that is that the horde of Northerners in our area must contain several elements of the Boko Haram. There have simply been too many of them, and they still abound. We accommodated all Northerners under the umbrella of a single, expansive identity—”malla”’. They made themselves useful by performing various menial tasks in the community, but mostly kept themselves to themselves. They would not even pray in the same mosques with other Muslims, but the Constitution allows that. Recently, however, the soaring increase in their population, against the backdrop of the terror in the North, had begun to give many people some cause for anxiety. Much of the fears remained unexpressed because the security personnel seemed to be at a distance from the welfare of the people, being mainly interested in issues from which they could make a fast naira through outrageous bail conditions, and stuff like that. The raid and discovery of those terrorist elements should therefore be highly commended because it seems to have been the result of very sound intelligence operations. But it should not stop there. The people who are being asked to cooperate with the police by giving out information deserve a measure of trust from the police and vice versa. There is a wide gap in confidence between the police and the people in this area, and it is constantly being widened by the hectoring of the people. The landlords and the process by which these vicious people obtained their accommodation should be brought under close scrutiny, so that other. miscreants may not continue to be harboured in the area. When that is seen to be done, perhaps ,he shall then be able to sleep with both eyes closed. Time out.