ADEAGBO ODENIYI THE AGAAKIN OF IWO, KING’S COLLEGE OLD BOY GOES HOME……

 Excerpts from ‘I found my Voice’

We stayed there at the Odeniyi’s in Ibadan overnight to prepare for the farewell Sunday service at St Peter’s Church the next day, my memory of that night remains virtually non-existent but I am sure it must have consisted of more sorrow, tears and wailing. When we lost our father it was with the Odeniyis we found refuge and succour after his internment. He eased effortlessly into the vacuum left by my father.

The highlight of our stay at Abule-Oja was our tenth birthday, which was marked in in relative grandeur. My mother invited all our friends from all over Lagos. My uncle, Chief Adeagbo Odeniyi acted as the ‘photographer’ with his newly acquired Polaroid camera and my mother baked and made a huge cake patterned into two equal halves with different coloured icing.  The pink half for my twin and the blue half for me, and it was all presents galore for us.  We both felt like a queen and king with all the attention focused on us.  One of the books I received as a present was ‘Jekyll and Hyde’ a curious choice I thought. I tried to read it but found it was simply incomprehensible at age ten years old.  However, I had fun with my twin playing with the chemistry set we received as a present. 

In later years my Uncle, Chief Odeniyi suffered grievous injuries from an armed robbery attack whilst out late at night and lost the use of one of his eyes, his handsome dark features were slightly affected but his generosity of spirit and the warmth he exuded did not diminish one iota.

In 1977 Chief Adeagbo Odeniyi convinced my mother to let us join his family for Christmas in Oluponna.  He had just completed an expansive bungalow with lots of room and acreage at Idi-Obi, the colanut farmstead in Oluponna. My mother relented and allowed us to join them and this began the annual ritual of spending our Christmas holidays at Oluponna. My uncle’s father had been a successful cocoa and produce farmer and cocoa trees encircled the land where the bungalow was built.  The compound was littered with fallen cocoa pods.  Once thinking it would taste like chocolate I ventured to break open a pod in order to devour the contents.  The taste was disgusting!  It was very bitter very much unlike the Bournvita cocoa drink I was used to consuming.   It was later I discovered the sweet taste of the drink came from lots of processing.

At every Christmas holiday, we followed a familiar routine when we arrived, my aunty, Mrs. Odeniyi would arrange for us to be taken to our family compound at ‘Ile-Olota’ to visit our relatives.  At the family house, a bungalow built from mud, with no electricity and laid out in the traditional ‘face me I face you’ style,

Initially in the early 1970s, it was with the Odeniyis that we spent most of our early holidays at their Idi-Ape residence in Basorun, Ìbàdàn.  In 1971, my father had proudly displayed a portrait of his cousin, Adeagbo Odeniyi’s newly completed house and promised to take us there during the holidays.  After my father died, we continued to spend our holidays there and it was from there that my mother attended some catering school to improve her skills in that area.

In time in the 1980s, the Odeniyi’s home became more of a second home to us.  I credit my father for this, when he was alive he always took us there to spend our holidays while he sneaked off to stay with his many cousins.  So we were used to staying with the Odeniyis and it is there I became very good friends with the Aboderins and Ladapos.  The Odeniyi’s earlier move to Ikeja in Lagos had meant closer proximity to us in Lagos and we spent many more holidays with them there.  Chief Odeniyi like Mr. Ojedele had attended the same schools with my father, but diverged for his ‘A’ Levels to attend King’s College, Lagos only to rejoin them at University College, Ìbàdàn.

In 1978 I remember very fondly being driven to Ibadan by Uncle ’Kola Ojedokun in Chief Odeniyi’s official Toyota Land Cruiser through the uncompleted expressway of Lagos – Ìbàdàn.  We were about the only car cruising effortlessly on the highroad.  At the time, it was a marvel of construction and it cut down a journey that was about three hours to one hour.   We were on our way to spend holidays with the Ojedeles and my Uncle Odeniyi had been kind enough to lend us his car.  At that time, Chief Odeniyi was Commercial Director of West Africa Portland Cement.  

In all those difficult years the cushion of generosity provided by my Uncles Odeniyi, Adigun, Ojedele, Ogunkanmi, Adetugbo and Atewologun bolstered us through our challenges.  I was glad that at least now, we only shared our flat with just one family.   Our new neighbours, the Ayenis were Ekitis like my mother and we all got on like one big happy family.  My mother was a teacher, a secretary and a caterer.  We were now neighbours to her cousin Mr. Atewologun who had children who were similar to us in age and he treated us like his own. 

In the early 1975, my mother fell very ill and was admitted to Lagos University Teaching Hospital for weeks.  It was as if our nightmare was being re-lived all over again, we felt very anxious and for many moments contemplated our fate as possible orphans.  The main relief at the time was the Odeniyis who made arrangements for us to spend every weekend with them until my mother was well enough to be discharged from hospital. The weekends were usually spent visiting the Apapa Amusement Park, where we rode various rides and forgot about our worries.  During the weekdays, Mr. O.K. Atewologun arranged for us to be taken to school and picked up afterwards. 

Through many anecdotes I picked up from my uncle Chief Adeagbo Odeniyi, my father’s cousin and closest friend, I learnt so much about his leadership qualities.  The Chief, the ‘Agbakin of Iwo’, played a significant role in our lives; he ensured that we were connected to our roots in Oluponna and was generous with us to a fault, he always took care of us as his own.  Through my mother, I discovered the Chief was an alumnus of King’s College and we developed another common bond.   As I matured in years, I acquired my father’s old clothes and shoes and wore them with a conviction that it would draw me ever closer to him.  It was as if I was seeking to wrap his identity around my own. 

During the ‘Ango Must Go’ crises my mother was very concerned and was shocked about the extent of the trouble I had allegedly caused. In the meantime, the Federal Military Government had announced the indefinite closure of the University and the immediate suspension of the Students’ Union.  It took a lot of persuasion from my twin sister to accompany her and my mother to Ekiti.  By this time rumours were abound that the Secret Security Service (SSS) were searching for all the Union officials including me.  The rugged terrain and lowlands of Usi-Ekiti, my mother’s hometown was an ideal place to hide away and cool off while things settled down.

We travelled through the thickness of the night, emerging through the rugged hills separated by rivers and arrived at my grand uncle’s home.  Mr. Agboola was my mother’s uncle and a retired civil servant.  There my aches and pains were tended to while we rested.  I was insistent that I needed to return to Ile-Ife, but my mother was not persuaded.  The compromise reached over breakfast was that I would proceed to and stay in Ibadan from where I could monitor the state of affairs at Ife.  I stayed at my uncle, Chief Odeniyi’s home; he was not pleased with me and ceased the discussion of all political matters with me for a while. 

My uncle Chief Odeniyi was a classmate of Lt. General Alani Akinrinade, a minister in the federal government, so my mother suggested he put in a word for her son to moderate the anticipated wrath of the government.  At some stage my mother, Chief Odeniyi and Mr. Ojedele visited the Vice-Chancellor of the University of Ife to plead my case.  The Vice-Chancellor let them know in certain terms that we were in trouble and the government was minded to be ruthless with us. 

It was this Saturday that I visited to pray with you and was so utterly disturbed by your refusal to eat, three weeks earlier I had cajoled and teased you as you ate from the palm of my hands, your brain was so vibrant and your words so articulate to the near end….I am so bereft and inconsolable at this time but I know my joy will come….