Only a selected few
knew of my relationship with Professor ’Wande Abimbola and they assumed that
because he was my ‘guardian’ I might
let him off lightly. However, they were
proved wrong. Whilst I had become more
circumspect in pursuit of power, I was still capable of verbally trampling on
anyone who stood in the way. We had many
thorny issues to resolve with the University authorities and the
Vice-Chancellor called a number of meetings.
Typically the University’s Principal Officers and Students’ Union
Executives attended these meetings. At
the meetings, I was always quick to speak and was rather hard on the
Vice-Chancellor, who never quite understood why I never learnt the virtue of
restraint with him. It was as if my
picking on him allowed me to demonstrate virility. I think for me it was simply business and no
hard feelings as I felt the needs of students were paramount. Mr. Dipeolu, the bald and dark complexioned
man, whose legs had a pronounced bow was the University Librarian and was
usually the one that brought wise counsel to proceedings when we reached a
stalemate. There was Dr. Adetunji, the
Ibadan man whose face was patterned with decorative tribal marks, the willy University
Registrar who was always impatient with our antics.
I also attended some
statutory University committees as a Union official. During one of those meetings I struck a very
close relationship with Professor ’Wale Omole, an alumnus of the University and
a Professor of Agricultural Economics who later became the Vice-Chancellor of
the University. He was open, very
friendly and always dressed in a smart cream coloured French suit. He chaired the New Bukateria Complex
Committee, a complex of mini restaurants the University had built and let out
to private caterers. Prior to this, the
government had subsidised all student meals and provided them through the
caterers employed by the University. The
Students’ Union was granted one of the units in the Bukateria to run and the
Welfare Committee, which, I chaired, was responsible for its management. ’Gbenga Ojo was secretary to the Welfare Committee
and the Buka Manager, he gave up so much of his time to run it and I trusted
him implicitly. I am afraid that
despite all the hard work, we never made any money and it was simply a drain on
the Union resources. It was at this
point that I began to question my views on natioinalisation of industry. Good intentions were never good enough to run
a business. At the Buka, we employed
staff, went to wholesale markets and ensured that all students paid for their
meals and yet made no profit. I was careful never to eat free meals at the Buka
in order to avoid any potential conflict of interest.
The Bukateria was the
place to eat if you were awash with cash, with rows of open restaurants, you
had a wide variety of choice and you could adapt your finances to suit your
preferences. There was Mama ’Funke’s
Buka, ‘the fried rice o!’ Fried rice laced or garnished with slices of
dodo (fried plantain), crowned and decorated with a choice selection of meat
and fish. You could then decide to cleanse
your palate with water or a selection of soft drinks. There was always a long lingering queue there
as people rushed there to be fed in sumptuous style. These were the kind of competitors we faced
at the Buka even our lower prices did not dissuade the students from visiting
Mama ’Funke. However, for those hard up
with little cash, up on one of the hills of the campus lay the ‘Old Buka’, a collection
of shanties made from corrugated iron sheets where you could indulge in some ‘Lafu and eran hu hu.’ ‘Hu hu’ was the phrase coined for those
who eat their morsels from a variety of pounded yam and cassava with no meat
and it was popularised by ‘Jasper’. This
was never out of choice but rather a function of lack of financial means. On a few occasions I would visit the Old
Buka with ’Segun Carew aka ‘Jasper’ who had introduced me to this money saving
alternative. You could have a dish for
about Thirty Kobo (a few pence) provided you were prepared to forgo the
delicacies of meat or fish.
In any case, I have
arrived at the conclusion that whilst I am not for ‘unregulated markets’, governments simply should have no business
running some utilities. Yes there might
be one or two strategic utilities governments needs to run but we must explore
other means of ownership that is for the common good and ensures profit is
reinvested accordingly.
1986 was a time of
great crises in Nigeria there was the introduction of the much-derided
Structural Adjustment Plan (SAP), the IMF loan, and the Austerity Measures
etc. In response to all these measures,
Ife Students’ Union was in the vanguard of opposition. This meant we were always in the eye of the
storm and addressed regular ‘World’ Press Conferences. In reality, these were local press
conferences at NUJ Headquarters at Iyanganku, Ibadan. I can still picture ‘Shadow’, Olurotimi, the
Student’s Union Representative Council Speaker, in his navy blue academic gown
and mortarboard on his head, the traditional grab for his office seated beside
the Union President as we addressed the Press.
However, the incident
that shook me the most was when one of our students was killed in the Ile-Ife
Township, his head was almost severed from machete cuts. I received a call to go to the Teaching Hospital
to identify some remains, which, the hospital authorities thought might be our
student. Sunday, the Union driver drove
me over to the hospital and as soon as I entered the cold and freezing morgue,
the transience of life hit me in the face, seeing the row of corpses I gasped at
the inexorable lowliness of mortality, which is usually obscured by the
vibrancy of life. Instantly I recognised
the student, he was one of us I had dealings with him in the past! Immediately I felt shivers running down my
spine. It was a beheading gone wrong;
the head clung on to the body but it was almost severed off. This brought memories flooding back of
’Bukola Arogundade who was beheaded a decade earlier. I suspected ritualists were at work and we
were determined to seek justice.
When the news filtered
out to the students they urged us to invade the town, but taking lessons from history,
we knew it would be unwise. We met with
the University authorities who counseled restraint. We summoned a ‘Supreme Congress’, a gathering of all students and gave emotional
speeches, however, the students wanted action and only that would assuage
them.
“Greaaaaaaaaaaat
Ife, Greeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat! In the nameeeeeee of every student martyr, in the
nameeeeee of ’Bukola Arogundade, in the nameeeeee of Akintunde Ojo, in the name
of Wemimo Akinbolu… I counsel your attention….”
These were my emotive-laden
words to a very charged audience of students in the Obafemi Awolowo Hall
Cafeteria. In the end, our tactic of
making speeches upon speeches had worked this time and calm was restored. Then as a cabinet, we took the decision to
travel to Ibadan to visit the then Oyo State Military Governor, His Excellency,
Colonel Adetunji Olurin and present him with a list of demands. After a few days, we were invited to the
Government Secretariat in Ibadan. The
Governor dressed in his green military uniform received us listened to our
demands and then responded. He counseled
restraint and promised his government would take action.
It was my
responsibility as the Welfare Officer to liaise with the family in respect to
the burial arrangements. I had the sad
and painful task of accompanying the brother to the mortuary to identify the
student’s remains. We made arrangements
to transport the remains in our union Volkswagen Kombi bus to Ibadan, but when
the coffin arrived, it was too small. We
had asked the family whether they wanted us to arrange the coffin, but the family
insisted they had the arrangements in hand.
The wooden coffin they managed to purchase was unfortunately not the
right size. Through the journey to Ibadan, the student’s remains kept on
popping out of the coffin because its lid would not shut. However, despite that mishap we were able to
give him a befitting burial. This time
we had managed to contain a potentially explosive situation but that would not
last long.
However, it would only be
a partial impression to suggest we were only dealing with tragedies during our
time. We organised some events that made
University of Ife the envy of many. I
recall the ’Fela Anikulapo-Kuti extravaganza that we organised and the ‘Miss Culture’ event put on by Taiye
Taiwo, the Director of Socials and compered by the irrepressible ’Deji Balogun
who had previously contested for the Presidency of the Union. The event that remains etched in my memory,
however, is the ‘Major Kaduna Nzeogwu
Day’ we organised. We invited the
retired Major ’Wale Ademoyega to deliver a lecture to mark the event. I was his compere so I had the responsibility
for organising his accommodation and transport arrangements and thanks to Mrs.
Kuku the Chief Catering Officer and wife of Mr. Femi Kuku a former President of
the Student Union he received first class treatment. The Vice-Chancellor was scheduled to meet
with the Major but at the last minute he pulled out pleading prior engagements.
The Major who had been part of the original five majors who took part in
Nigeria’s first coup was a dark, tall, brooding and a contemplative
character. He did not speak much and it
was obvious that the events leading to the assassination of the Prime Minister
Alhaji Abubakar Tafawa Balewa and the Finance Minister Okotie Eboh still
haunted him. When we settled into his
suite at the University guesthouse with some reluctance he described to me in
stark and gruesome terms the last moments…..Read more from https://www.createspace.com/4943826
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