It took some concerted effort to convince my mother that a return to the King’s College boarding house would do me any good. She was concerned that my last experience in the boarding house led to multiple examination failures culminating in the loss of two years. I marshaled my arguments and reminded my mother that my twin, Folashade, was already at the University of Ife enjoying the life of a Law student. I queried the basis that led to her denial of a right I considered inalienable and over time with sustained pressure, she relented. I am convinced that it was a combination of the weight of evidence; the soundness of my logic and my impudence that made my mother relent.
During my time in exile away from the boarding house in the land of the day student, I was determined to play a full and active role in the life of the school. As I matured a little in my Christian journey, I acquired the nickname of ‘Pastor’. The accompanying popularity began to creep into my head and I felt that if I was to acquire more status and relevance then contesting for office of some kind would not be a bad start. In my first Third Form, I was elected class captain for two consecutive terms, only to be retired by the class teacher Mrs. Umenyi on account of my increasingly poor academic performance. Victor Ogwai was my replacement and it was a huge blow for during that time, the taste of power was pleasant, but I learnt the hard way to serve by example.
I can recall that many times when my errant classmates downed tools and refused to clean up the classroom I would take up the task and sweep the classroom clean and wait patiently to visit retribution on the offenders at the opportuned time. Typically, my duties where simple, maintain order in the classroom and represent the class to the teachers. It was a role from which I learnt so much fairness, integrity and responsibility.
The Art teacher, Mrs. Inko-Tariah had noticed me during that period as an above average art student. This led to me my entry as a school representative for the National Arts competition. I was also invited to design, sketch and paint the scene of a cricket match on the background wall of the school stage in readiness for the ‘Annual Speech Day and Prize Giving Day’. It was indeed an honour and privilege because that year the President of Nigeria; His Excellency, Alhaji Sheu Shagari was the guest of honour. I assumed that there would be a prize, ‘Service to College Life’ awaiting me as a reward for my artistic efforts and that I would have the opportunity to shake the hands of the President. However, that year I was not awarded a prize; but in the following year, I would proudly received my ‘overdue’ prize.
The convention was that only Fourth Form boarders could contest for the position of Assistant Secretary of the Students’ Council but I would not be held back by convention. I had studied the contents of the constitution and I was quite clear that the provisions did not debar me. Prior to the time, I had been intimately involved in many campaigns either as a designer of posters or a campaign manager for Oluyinka Olutoye aka ‘Toy’ and a supporter of Ayo Awoyingbo aka ‘Awo’. At that time my mother was not prepared to countenance my return to the boarding house so I took the bull by the horn and threw myself into the ring and my nomination was dully accepted.
In the meantime I had spent my exiled period as a day student following the University of Lagos Students’ Union politics and attending their annual celebrations and commemorations. I immersed myself in the lingo and culture of student unionism and followed its politics. I also got very close to Panaf Olajide Olakanmi having being introduced to him by Hakeem ’Kayode Johnson, an engineering student of rare distinction. He, Panaf, lived in Mariere Hall aka ‘Baluba Kingdom’, his hall was also known as ‘the bottle breakers’, he taught me the rudiments of politics and offered to sponsor my political adventures. I learnt from him the initial art of political writing and slowly to the horror of my Christian mentor, Brother ’Tunde Oladunmiye I became more political and less Christianly in my attitude. I produced over four hundred copies A4 write-ups where the ideology of Panafism was espoused and every student at the school was given a copy. I also unleashed on the boys periodic press releases. I think I may have become some sort of phenomenon at the time.
I contested against the handsome and photogenic Emezie (later Head of Cabinet of the Students’ Council), and won with about 238 votes to his 73. On the Sunday night, the day of the Speech Night I had to stay over night at the school. I still cannot remember how I convinced my mother to let me sleep over. As a result of the votes, I was elected the first day student to become Assistant Secretary in the history of the college while Ayo Awodein was elected as Secretary. After the ceremonial handshake, ‘Bingo’, the PKC decided to suspend the Council for reasons yet unexplained and it was from here that the struggle began.
My return to Panes’ House FI dormitory was not plain sailing, I had arrived a week late to the boarding house and Jimoh aka ‘Gawe’, had taken over the bed space near the entrance beside the front bay window of F1. In a nod to tradition, I simply requested him to move but he stubbornly refused! It was the tradition that senior boys occupied the bed spaces closest to the windows but my late arrival had given ‘Gawe’ the opportunity to establish some sort of claim to the space. The atmosphere was constipated with anger and I was reduced to a rendering of the history of King’s College, Lagos, which I am sure must have bored him. I referred to tales of how I had been admitted years before he dreamt of applying to the school. He would not budge and then I reckoned, it was time to deploy the big guns. I ‘summoned’ Olaleye aka ‘Baba Leyi’, the Prefect and Panes’ House Captain and pleaded with him to enforce the ‘rule of law and precedence’ in my dormitory, to prevent a break down of law and precedence. After a stiff talking to from Olaleye, ‘Gawe’ relented and found he had not choice but to effect compliance with tradition. He later came to give me the full respect I craved. I settled down in my new corner, selected a choice of side lockers, identified a junior boy for water fetching duties and set down to sketch out my plans for the total domination of the King’s College’s political scene.
We had been used to food of the highest quality except for ‘Eba’, grated cassava meal, which we avoided in our numbers. Then suddenly in the later months of 1983 things changed, the food became deplorable and we were expected to accept it with meekness. As far as I was concerned, the Head Caterer had become a bit of a law on to herself, the food was becoming increasingly inedible and we had been subjected to the indignity of banana milk. I was of the view that this could not stand because the milk had awful taste and no one drank banana milk. I dug deep into history, because I heard of the strike of the previous generation and of the heroic roles played by ’Emeka Odumegwu Ojukwu. I reasoned that if Ojukwu a mere Second Former at the time could be a major protagonist in a strike then so could I.
I crafted a powerful letter, full of bombast, and wrote to the PKC threatening a food boycott if things did not improve. I made it clear it was unacceptable that boys should be treated to such quality of food. I gave an ultimatum for the withdrawal of the offending milk and demanded improvements be made to the quality of food. I suggested any failure to heed our demands would lead to us abandoning all attempts of eating the meals prepared by the school kitchen. This was an unmistakable threat to go on a hunger strike. Only Bibi Paiko and ’Dayo Oleolo were party to my letter and as I was determined to face down the school authorities. It led to a confrontation with ‘Bingo’ in his office.
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