Pendulum
Pendulum: The Unsolvable Jigsaw of the Ikoyi Tragedy
Published
2 years agoon
By
Eric
By Dele Momodu
Fellow Nigerians, the terrible day, Monday, November 1, 2021, started for me like all of my regular days. It was very quickly to become the stuff of permanent nightmares. Just the day before, I had departed Abuja after the PDP National Convention. My Sunday evening was spent at the birthday dinner cum book launch of television star, Ms Kikelomo Atanda-Owo. I left the classy party looking forward to a long blissful night as I planned to be in bed till minimum 12 noon on Monday before attending the climate change event at the Italian Consulate on Victoria Island. Unknown to me, this meticulously planned schedule was not to be.
I was getting ready to go out when a massive explosion, like a fiendish hurricane raised to the power of thousands, suddenly occurred. This evil explosion was so thunderous that it shook our six-storey building to its foundation and seemed to reverberate forever. To say that I was scared is to put it very mildly. I dialogued with my feet and started galloping away like an antelope. I kept screaming at my wife: “Bolaji, earthquake, earthquake, let’s move before the building collapses on all of us.” My wife, who seems to be of much stronger stock than I in these conditions, was already by the window scanning our compound. “Ajani (her pet name for me) our residents are out of their apartments…” Then she looked skyward and straight across the most imposing edifice in our neighbourhood, a gargantuan edifice that bestrides the landscape of the busy Gerrard Road, that we normally see from our windows, but it was nowhere to be found. “Ajani, Fourscore’s building has disappeared!” my wife screamed… “What is this woman saying?” I soliloquized? Then fearfully and with great trepidation, I peeped out myself and saw the void. I screamed and started speeding out of the building. Plenty questions but no answers.
My wife was already way ahead of me as I waited for my younger friend, Gbenga Olunloyo to join me. Gbenga immediately made a call to a structural Engineer to come and check if the “earthquake” had damaged or weakened our building. Along the streets, we ran into my neighbour, Mr Olu Akpata, the affable President of the Nigerian Bar Association. He was busy working the phone making calls to the Lagos State Governor, Mr Babajide Sanwo-Olu, and all The Who is Who in Lagos State. He was truly effective and impressive. We also saw Mrs Olukemi Aderemi, and her daughter, Adekepemi, whose maternal grandfather, Chief Obafemi Awolowo (SAN), hailed from the same township of Ikenne, in Ogun State, as Mr Femi Osibona, the owner of the collapsed skyscraper on Gerrard Road, Ikoyi. It was Femi or Fourscore, as myself and many others called him, who had sold our Penthouse Flats to Myself and my best friend, Damola Aderemi, whilst he lived across us in another of the four penthouses in the mini-Estate. Mrs Aderemi kept us fully apprised of the situation with the updates.
The Deputy Governor of Lagos State, Dr Obafemi Hamzat, was soon sighted and I walked up to him. He looked visibly shaken and rattled. Suddenly, a young driver joined us from seemingly out of nowhere and he gave us the rudest shocker of our lives. Looking straight into my eyes, the young man said “Sir, I brought your son, Wale Bob (Wale Bob Oseni) here some minutes ago on our way to the airport and now I can’t find him. He was in the building when it collapsed. “Holy Jesus!”, I screamed, helplessly. The crowd of spectators, first responders, security personnel and others were swelling up in a jiffy. I told the Deputy Governor he would have to seek more security and get a rescue team on to the site immediately. However, in his haste, he had left his phones in the car. He hurriedly left to make some quick calls. We waited with bated breath for excavators to arrive. We were soon told one had been located not too far away. But the minutes were ticking away, and we were all getting agitated and crestfallen.
We were told the Governor, Babajide Sanwo-Olu, was also coordinating things from yonder and he had immediately promised to return home to supervise things himself. I’ve always known Governor Sanwo-Olu to be hands on contrary to what critics were saying. He had ordered the closure of the premises once, and even got Femi Osibona arrested during an altercation with the agents of the State. Before Femi was released, the Governor sought guarantees from Femi and his friends that Femi will henceforth cooperate fully with agencies of government in the monitoring and supervision of the massive construction and Femi did so till the very end. I will return to this shortly.
After what seemed an eternity, one excavator rolled and roared in like a Russian tank. First the gate leading to the monumental edifice had to be mowed down. In no time, this was achieved. But some brave and energetic guys with hefty muscles had taken charge of rescuing some of those in the rubbles. Some of the victims were either dead or alive with various degrees of bruises or burns. More police and soldiers soon joined. The Lagos State Commissioner of Police, Hakeem Odumosu, came fully ready to ensure maximum security. The crowd was getting restive as darkness fell. Too many stories of heroism, and good fortune to be told, like the two fortunate employees who went to buy water for one of the engineers only to return to see the building crumpling before their very eyes or Fourscore’s young lawyer, Seun, who missed being in the building by a heartbeat because he needed to replace tyres on his car and arrived just as the building collapsed in a heap.
Then sadly and most distressingly, the gossip writers took over the cyberspace spinning all manner of tales by moonlight. One of them said authoritatively and categorically that my wife, Mrs Mobolaji Momodu was seen on the top floor with Femi just before the collapse and reached the conclusion that she might be under the ruins. An irresponsible man wrote in a WhatsApp group that Dele Momodu won’t speak up because Femi had gifted me the penthouse in which we live in Ikoyi, such arrant nonsense. This man who I’m told lives in America would have been more useful to society if he was writing novels. My best friend, Adedamola Aderemi, and I had bought our separate apartments from Femi over four years ago and we spent many months renovating the penthouses. The Prince of Ile-Ife had told me about the property and once I heard it was owned by Femi Fourscore, I was more than pleased and comfortable to buy.
I had known Femi for over 20 years in London as an extremely gifted marketer. Femi’s tongue was honey-coated, and it was impossible not to like him. He used to fly to America to bring in Tommy Hilfiger and Ralph Lauren shirts and suits and was ever willing to sell on credit to special clients like me. He was such a charming gentleman who adopted me as his big Brother. “Egbon mi, Olorun Oba ngbo, I’m selling these shirts to you much cheaper to you but please don’t tell anyone o!” We even went to Germany on April 22, 1998, with Damola Aderemi and a few other friends to watch the Green Eagles play an International Friendly against Germany in preparation for the World Cup. We became almost inseparable while I was in exile under the Abacha military junta.
We lost touch after I ended exile and returned to Africa, but he soon traced me to Ghana, and he came visiting. He was so happy to reunite with me. He told me how God had blessed him mightily and had made him veer into real estate in London. Femi was a genius who made stupendous gains from regenerating ghetto neighbourhoods in East London. He regaled me with tales of his exploits in the property business: “Egbon mi, Olorun ngbo bi eni pe Eniyan n s’eso ni (My Senior Brother, God hears me and knows, the property business is like voodoo money). He was extremely prayerful and belonged to the Celestial arm of white garment churches. His knowledge of the Bible was outstandingly remarkable. He was a great preacher who was well sort after.
He told Prince Damola Aderemi and I most of his big dreams and confided more in my friend, being a very brilliant Lawyer who advised him and did some legal work on this Gerrard Project. Fourscore used some of the best legal brains in the business including his Ikenne kinsman, Segun Odubela SAN of blessed memory, Lawal Pedro SAN and A. U. Mustapha SAN. When he bought the Gerrard Road land, he was over the moon. He promised to build the classiest residential apartments in Africa. He said he was out to prove there was nothing the multinational construction companies were doing that his company can’t do. I have never seen such level of audacity, determination and tenacity. Fourscore was a visionary and a missionary when it came to seeking to excel and do as well as his international counterparts at home and abroad. He had competed in their space in their countries before, with moderate successes and did not see any reason why he could not replicate the same and attain loftier heights in his home country. If he made any mistakes, it was probably that he overstretched himself, but he was such an ambitious man, full of faith. And certainly not the greedy avaricious person that his traducers now suggest he is. In our country, mistakes are never excused, forgiven or forgotten. When you fail, you’re a villain and outcast. When you succeed, you’re a hero, genius and superstar. As I told Uncle Fola Adeola when he called me days ago: “Failure is a learning process. When the Americans started going to the moon, they failed spectacularly and lost many lives. They were described as being reckless and seeking to challenge the work of God but one day, it all changed and the dream of landing on the moon was achieved.” Out of the failing of Femi Fourscore would arise a Nigerian Neil Armstrong who will make building on the Sea seem like strolling to the next street. That I believe is Femi Fourscore’s legacy, challenging us to believe that what may seem impossible is indeed possible by dint of hard work and if at first you do not succeed, keep trying, because your time will come.
I will never give excuses for Femi. He tried but he couldn’t unfortunately deliver on the tall and tough target he set for himself. I am pretty sure that it was not because he was cutting corners or taking risks. The Block that fell was the one he intended to live in. No man would be prepared to be a kamikaze pilot in such a situation.
It is not in my place to second guess the outcome of the Inquest and the Investigation which has been ordered. These must be done diligently. It must not be hurried. It must be painstaking and thorough. Such investigations cannot last thirty days as being directed by the government. I foresee that any credible inquiry must take months of arduous diligent work. Various possibilities including negligence, sabotage and even natural or human causes such as the over-dredging occurring in that vicinity must be considered. Dead men tell no tales. They cannot defend themselves, but records and logic abound. Those making claims and allegations which are easily rumpled will soon be exposed. I’d known that In February 2020 the third block was at the beginning of the Foundation stage and the other two blocks were merely a few storeys gone. It is interesting that nobody who had any misgivings reported such to the Regulators. I say no more, other than that it is always convenient to cast aspersions when it seems there is no potential for reply.
What I know is Fourscore was a self-made man who depended on no godfather. Despite being a cousin of the Vice President, Professor Yemi Osinbajo, he was too proud and self-reliant to approach the Vice President or anybody else for favours of that kind. He never sought for, or got, any government contracts. He relied on his own ability, marketing skills and funds. It has been most painful reading how some people reduced Femi’s epic struggles and vision to fronting for the Vice President. For me, this is one of the tragedies of this unfortunate saga. The worst of them would be the number of innocent casualties buried in the debris with Femi. The young ladies, Nifemi, his PA, Oyinye and Oyin, Corpers and others on IT who wanted to be part of a transformational project. The story of Wale Bob-Oseni, my dear beloved Ile-Ife born protégé, would haunt all those who knew him for the rest of our lives, undoubtedly. He was on his way back home to America to celebrate his 50th Birthday. A surprise party awaited him on 24 November. What about Samuel “Sammy” Iwelu, Femi’s young friend who had come from England to attend a wedding in Abuja and was returning later that day? It is my hope and expectation that we as observers, participants and government learn immense lessons from this tragedy including how to respond to large scale calamities like this. I commend Governor Babajide Sanwo-Olu in this regard. He has shown again that he is a Star. He listened and reacted positively to the complaints and wishes of relatives. A truly compassionate leader.
The ultimate tragedy is the fact that we may never be able resolve the jigsaw of this extraordinary disaster since the main man who might have been able tell us what went wrong is no longer with us. Even that might have been a daunting task for him.
I pray for swift healing for the survivors. They and their families must be comforted and counselled lest this traumatic experience become a mental health challenge for them.
Iku d’oro o mu awon eni ire lo. Death has consumed too many good people. May we not be found on the road the day it is famished. May we not be eaten alive while looking for what to eat. May all the souls of the victims rest in peace. I pray that God consoles and comforts the families, loved ones and friends they left behind.
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Pendulum
Pendulum: Dr. Mike Adenuga Jnr: Refreshing Lessons for Generations
Published
4 weeks agoon
May 6, 2023By
Eric
By Japheth J. Omojuwa
This is neither a tribute to nor a piece in praise of Dr. Mike Adenuga Jnr. Presidents have defied protocol to offer praises, even across the ocean. Kings have broken tradition in offering tributes and titles, captains of industry have queued behind themselves sharing memorable and inspiring accolades to a timeless icon who did his best to moderate the celebrations. Even if one defied these and decided to try against reason, King Sunny Ade’s Fayeyemi tribute is matchless and inimitable, and I could never reach Chief Ebenezer Obey’s depth and artistry in celebration of the man. Thus, there is nothing left to be said in form of praise or tributes that could surpass those already offered by these great men and women.
I have not come to praise the man; I have only come to address the spectators who were held spellbound by the spectacle and were left wondering what could be so great about a man whom most of them have never seen and only ever get to hear of. Often, when one gets sucked into the attraction of the show, the lessons get lost.
This once, we cannot afford to miss the lessons. The stories that contributed to the making of the man provide vital context for his greatness and offer a rich source of learning and inspiration for generations to come. When these stories are left untold, myths and falsehoods can fill the vacuum, perpetuating disempowering beliefs that hinder progress and growth. For instance, some may believe that wealth can only be acquired through unscrupulous means or cronyism.
When President Emmanuel Macron of France wrote in his tribute, ‘you are humble enough to often publicly declare that the confidence of several French companies at the beginning of your entrepreneurial adventure was instrumental in building the success that is yours today’, among other French alliances, he was making reference to the man who explored for more capital through the banks. A much harder way than through the disempowering stories that people tell to explain wealth they do not understand and in the same breath excuse their own misfortune.
The moniker, ‘The Bull,’ is not merely a name with a golden insignia; it reflects some of Adenuga’s most essential characteristics. The Bull is traditionally seen as a symbol of wealth and subterranean powers. It does not just make an entry; it makes an unforgettable one. It does not recognize defeat; any appearance of defeat is a retreat that often proves costly for those who stand in its path. These traits find expression in the success story of Globacom, which is a testament to Adenuga’s tenacity and determination.
Many exited at the point the government cancelled their mobile telecom licenses. Instead, The Bull charged on, refusing the small battle of a legal pursuit and instead focused on the big prize at the end of what was going to be a protracted bidding war for GSM licenses. Adenuga had to call on his grit again when the prize he won came without the trophy. The government had its cake and ate it. The Bull’s bouncebackability came into play again because well over a year later, he got the license that was fairly won in an open bidding process. When the stories get told, you cannot have a single blot on his shield. The Bull played by the rules, even when the rules were shifted against him, his staying power meant his team returned with victory. A hard-fought one but The Bull stayed invincible.
Other companies would have been happy to just start and do a continuous chase of those who had gone ahead of them, Mike Adenuga’s Globacom defied the norm by starting out with a paradigm shift that remains unmatched in Nigeria. Instead of chasing the competition and playing by their rules, by crashing the price of SIM cards and starting out with per second billing – others said this was not possible at the time – the competition had to bend to his game. The horses that started the race earlier were now doing the chase.
Adenuga’s Globacom dragged the industry on the path of perfect competition with his early moves, he then differentiated immediately by offering services the first and second movers had not even thought of. They were left competing with him at one end in a game whose rules he had redefined by his paradigm shifting bullish entry. He left himself alone without competition at other ends, advancing and flexing with technology above what was on offer. Translated to Yoruba, o ti ilekun mo won, o fi kokoro pa mo.

One reference the tributes intersect is his humility. Humility is an interesting phenomenon. You cannot be poor and be said to be humble. Poverty and humility appear to be parallel lines, yet they find intersection because poverty is already a humble position. Albeit a position that appears to be without the choice of the bearer. When it is said that a person is humble, one must pay attention. When you are so rich with means and power but appear to be unconscious of that elevated state of being especially in your dealings with people, that is humility. Some go out of their way to be seen to be humble. That defeats the purpose. Feigned humility is not humility. The Adenuga tributes refer to the sort of humility that the man himself would only come to see in the description of the people who experienced it. The humility of a man who just is.
Attention seeking appears to be humanity’s contemporary collective de rigueur. That could be explained by the ubiquity of the Internet and its appurtenances. Contemporary culture has now birthed a world where billionaires want to evolve into bloggers even as blogger aspire to be billionaires. We have built a universe and culture where staying relevant has become a daily endeavour, yet in all of that world, we all aspire to Mike Adenuga. The one who would rather not be seen, the one who finds comfort and apparent fulfilment in not being heard. Yet the one who has impacted people and institutions so much he brings life to another moniker of his, The Spirit of Africa. A reference that captures the essence of his values and the fact that one needs not be seen to make change happen, one needs not speak to be heard. And to make great impact, intentions and action are greater than fugazi moves, vain aesthetics and puerile drama.
The rich, in observing the tradition of noblesse oblige, have often committed to philanthropy. The Mike Adenuga principle goes above that sense of obligation because giving is entrenched in his persona. In a world where many keep records of those that they helped that never returned to say ‘thank you’, the millions opportune to be blessed by The Spirit of Africa do not get a chance to. Because his generosity leaves no room to collect appreciations. The giving and the changed lives are the essence of it all.
Conversely, you won’t find a person with a higher sense of appreciation, even for the little things.
Writing about personalities can be enjoyable, but there are times when addressing important issues should take precedence. This piece is not solely about an individual’s personality, but rather the enduring values necessary to navigate a constantly changing world. While exploring Dr. Mike Adenuga’s achievements could fill volumes, the focus here is on some of the values that propelled him to success and how we can apply them to our own daily challenges. As we confront new and complex problems, the lessons we learn from those who have gone before us can be invaluable. Dr. Adenuga’s life offers a powerful example of how these values can lead to great rewards, and this is a message that deserves to be heard by this generation and beyond.
He exemplifies E pluribus unum, and of him, there are lessons to be learned for generations to come. This is the legacy one must have a sense of appreciation for. Dr. Mike Adenuga Jnr. GCON, CSG, CdrLH at 70 has left lessons for us in these Platinum number of years, we cannot afford to lose sight of these precious gems.
Japheth J. Omojuwa is the author of Digital: The New Code of Wealth and founder of Alpha Reach
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Adenuga Special
Pendulum: Mike Adenuga: The Spirit of Africa @70
Published
1 month agoon
April 28, 2023By
Eric
By Dele Momodu
Fellow Nigerians, exactly 70 years ago, on Wednesday, April 29, 1953, an exceptional baby was born. As was customary with the Yoruba people of old Western Region of Nigeria, he would soon be given names that would reflect the circumstances of his birth and the observations of his parents around the period.
Thus, he was named Michael Adeniyi Agbolade Isola Adenuga, at his christening. One of these powerful names soon became a prophecy fulfilled. AGBOLADE is the child who has attracted wealth to his family. If the Adenugas thought they were already successful and prosperous, their son, Mike Adenuga Jr. would soon be known globally as one of the world’s wealthiest humans on planet earth.
I will not bore you with his biography since the cyberspace is already awash with tales of his uncommon trajectory. I’m here to demonstrate why I’m convinced that the celebrant of today is a special creation of God sent to this world to touch countless lives.
As for me and my house, I consider my encounters with him as being spiritually ordained. Not many people can boast of seeing and knowing Adenuga at close range. I’m privileged to have Dr. Adenuga as my mentor and benefactor. I can readily write a PhD thesis on the extraordinary nature of the Spirit of Africa, a spirit you hardly see but feel his impact all around you.
I’m very convinced that only God could have sent Dr Adenuga to me. Our relationship is undoubtedly divine.
I bless the day I met Dr Adenuga in 1991. More than money, I have gained much more from having substantial access to him and drinking endlessly from his fountain of knowledge than the wealth he has splashed on me and so many others. While most people see his billions in dollars, I see his intellectual prowess in trillions. I pray that technology will give us opportunities to clone such brains as I doubt if similar geniuses are still manufactured these days. I will never get tired of learning at his feet.
Let me now give you just a few of our encounters.
Adenuga, the generous giver: I can confidently say, Mike Adenuga is the most generous man or woman alive. If you know of any other, please write your own piece. I know of people who have become billionaires in Naira/assets from the regular support Adenuga gives them. All it takes is to impress him repeatedly with performance and loyalty. No amount is too big for Adenuga to give his friends and associates. He believes in the reward system. I once asked why he gives out so much. His response was a classic. “If you have a Billionaire as your friend, his wealth must reflect on you…” What a response!
In 2015, I got a call to pick up a car at Banana Island which he bought for me. I wasn’t surprised that he bought me a car, since he gives more than 50 exotic cars out every year, I was stunned that he bought me the most expensive car in the Audi family, Audi A8L. I was later told he bought about ten of those luxury cars and gave them out. I know of a family he gave the husband a Range Rover and the wife a RAV 4. These are not Tokunbo vehicles (used cars) but brand new. Adenuga does not believe in dolling out peanuts to people. One encounter is enough to leave you dazed eternally. If you are smart and can manage your business well, you should be made for life.
Adenuga, a loyal friend in the days of tribulations… In 1995, I got into serious trouble with the Abacha government and I needed to literally vamoose and I reached out to Adenuga for help. I was pleasantly surprised when he gave financial support as risky as it was then. And during my exile years in England, he supported me every year till I returned home. Unlike others who would expect you to become a slave thereafter, I was treated with love and respect.
When I started Ovation International in London and the company ran into trouble, I wrote to Adenuga and asked him to take over since I didn’t want my dream to evaporate. His response again was brilliant and encouraging… “Ovation is your baby, work harder at it…” He kept giving me the necessary support periodically without requesting for my flesh and blood.
Adenuga respects reciprocity in relationships… He tries hard to reciprocate kind deeds you make to him. A year after he bought me the Audi, I did something that really touched him in 2016. He invited me to his Bellissima Palace on Banana Island. As I sat down, he thanked me profusely for my love for him. Then to my greatest surprise and joy, he announced very calmly: “I have just ordered you a Range Rover, the only problem is that the dealer only have it in white color…” Jesus, I screamed: “Chairman, you just gave me the Audi A8L last year, this is unexpected Sir…” He smiled and told me: “Our Bob Dee, you’re a great guy and you deserve anything I can give… I will let you know when the Range is available in black, because black will look good on you, and send it to you…” And when the car was ready, he told me to wait for someone at Wheatbaker Hotel in Ikoyi, where it was delivered to me. Let me confirm to you that both cars he gave me in one year cost him N85 million… Let’s not talk about other transactions at home and abroad, including well funded foreign assignments.
Adenuga hates the word impossibility… One beautiful morning, I landed in Dubai. As I was checking into my hotel, a call came through from his top aide, Mr Bode Opeseitan. “Bob Dee Sir, Chairman wants to have dinner with you and a few friends at home tomorrow…” Wonderful Lord, the Devil is a liar, I soliloquised. This was an opportunity I had waited for so patiently. A dinner with Adenuga is always a treat. He is a man of extraordinary culinary taste and style… He spoils his guests with the best of cuisines, washed down with an assortment of cocktails, white and red wines, champagnes and cognacs… He sends me cartons of these expensive drinks, from time to time. Sorry, about this digression. This is a rare opportunity to say just about one percent of our interactions.
I had to abort my stay in Dubai with automatic alacrity. How can a whole Adenuga invite me to dinner and I will tell him I can’t come because I’m in Dubai. So I told Bode to tell Chairman, I will honor his invitation, no matter what it would take.
So I called Emirates and moved my next flight to London backwards and left for London same afternoon. Fortunately, I landed in London by about 6.30pm and was able to board the 10.30pm Virgin Atlantic flight from same Heathrow Terminal 3 to Lagos. Because of Adenuga, I made a round trip of Accra to Dubai to London to Lagos in less than 24 hours. But it paid off handsomely. At that dinner, I sealed a mega deal of the Ovation Carol sponsorship with Glo… “Bode, please, tell your sponsorship team to give Bob Dee whatever is required to make Ovation Carol a success…” What a Spirit!
Adenuga’s battle with photographers… For a man so charming and handsome, Adenuga does not like cameras around him. I’m lucky to have had many pictures with him. When I started handling his media relations in 1992, I was being paid to shield him from publicity, whether good or bad. It was difficult, if not impossible, to get any clear picture of Adenuga in media files. His favourite words are “I’m hiding under the parapet…” When I complain about the way he’s being undervalued on the annual Rich List, he used to tell me: “I’m not desperate to be listed as number one. I’m comfortable wherever they put me. Those who understand the game know the real wealth.”
On one occasion, about 12 years ago, he agreed to open up his books to a few of us. His nationwide and international real estate portfolio was so staggering that we became dizzy just looking from city to city. He owns one of the most priced properties in Johannesburg and he’s a neighbour of the current President of South Africa, Cyril Ramaphosa. His properties litter several world capitals.
We gained access to the stupendous assets of GLO and GLO 1 and could not believe the figures staring at us. It is difficult to contemplate how one man could ever think of stretching the limits of technology by laying submarine cables under the Atlantic ocean from Europe to West Africa.
His gargantuan operations at ConOil was another matter entirely with huge investments in exploration, in upstream and downstream. The gas deposits were beyond imagination. What a blessed man!
Adenuga and his battle with cameras… It has been a struggle getting him to agree to take pictures even for his 70th. For a man who can afford the biggest photographers in the world, he only allowed one young talented Nigerian Photographer, Jeffrey Olalekan, to take his pictures and Maureen Ekezie, to clean up the job. What an enigma!
Let me give one more encounter, a very recent one, since there are too many tributes to read on Adenuga today. He called me two days ago to complain that the noise about his 70th birthday is getting too loud. So I pleaded with him to allow us celebrate him this time around and that I believe this one is beyond his control. It is not his style but his friends, associates and disciples have decided to celebrate him big time, whether he agrees or not.
Just imagine a newspaper edition in which you have Segun Adeniyi, Simon Kolawole, Reuben Abati, Nduka Irabor, Yemi Ogunbiyi, with congratulatory messages pouring in from well-wishers. What more can a man ask for from God?
Today na today…
Happy birthday to the Spirit of Africa…
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By Dele Momodu
Fellow Nigerians, let me say how much I enjoyed reading as a young boy while growing up in the ancient town of Ile-Ife. Life was so much fun in those good old days. As a university town, Ile-Ife paraded some of the best bookshops in the old Western Region. The University of Ife Bookshop was top on the list. This bookshop was ably managed at different times by very cerebral and highly influential men like Chief Wunmi Adegbonmire and Chief Oyeniyi Osundina. Next door was the Hezekiah Oluwasanmi Library, where I worked as a Library Assistant, from 1977-78. We also had the CSS Bookshops, managed by the Anglican Church, where I also served as a shop assistant in 1976, after my West African School Certificate examination. We had Surulere Bookshop, owned by Chief Ezekiel Oluwafemi Adegbola, Olusanu Bookshop (later changed to Omo Arewa Bookshop), owned by my first Headmaster, Chief Isaac Olagbaju. There was Adura Lere Bookshop, owned by my Mum’s best friend, Mama Adura Lere, as we fondly called her, the mother of Mr Erastus Bankole Akingbola, the former Managing Director of Intercontinental Bank. My Mum’s beer parlour was next door at Number 2A Atiba Square, opposite The Ooni’s Palace and the Ife Museum.
My early years were soaked in books and voracious reading. I soon fell in love with thrillers. I enjoyed James Bond novels, written by the British novelist, Ian Fleming. I thoroughly devoured the novels of James Hadley Chase, a master of suspense. I massacred the spy adventures of Nick Carter who wrote about 648 novels. I later graduated to Robert Ludlum, Sidney Sheldon, James Clavel, Joan Collins, Leslie Charteris, and so many others. I feel so nostalgic about those amazing days as I write this piece right now. I got so addicted to thrillers and was happy to discover detective novels written in Yoruba by two major authors, Baba Oladejo Okediji (the author of Aja Lo Leru, Agbalagba Akan, Rere Run and others), and Alagba Kola Akinlade (the author of Ta Lole Ajomogbe and others)…
Historical works and biographies attracted me endlessly. I loved the historical play of Efunsetan Aniwura, as captured by my teacher and supervisor, Professor Akinwumi Isola.
I followed the lives of African writers through the works of Wole Soyinka, Chinua Achebe, Ngugi wa Thiong’o, Mongo Beti, Ferdinand Oyono, Ayi Kwei Ahmah, Kofi Awoonor, Jomo Kenyatta, Alex La Guma, Nawal El Sa’adawi, Mariama Ba, Kwame Nkrumah, Julius Nyerere, Obafemi Awolowo, Nnamdi Azikiwe, Camara Laye, Cyprian Ekwensi, T.M Aluko, Elechi Amadi, Kenneth Kaunda, Oginga Odinga, D.O Fagunwa, Kole Omotoso, Amos Tutuola, Okot p’Bitek, David Rubadiri, Leopold Sedar Senghor, Christopher Okigbo and so many others. But one man stood out for me, not just as the greatest user and “manipulator” of the English language but as a fearless activist. Whatever little radicalism and activism buried in me today was planted in me by Wole Soyinka, who I met early in life as a teenager on the campus of University of Ife.
The book that did the magic is no other than THE MAN DIED. If you’ve not read it, please find one, possibly at The Booksellers in Jericho, Ibadan. It contains a riveting account of Soyinka’s prison memoirs. After reading it, you will realise and appreciate how much Nigeria has lost most of its ability to fight injustice.
After Wole Soyinka, I was privileged to meet and get close to Chief Gani Fawehinmi. His Chambers nearly became my home at a time and I marveled at his collection of radical books plus his neatly bound collection of newspapers and magazines.
I have deliberately taken you through this long preamble in order to demonstrate my fascination with knowledge. My dream was to be a scholar and end up as a university lecturer. But man proposes and God disposes. As much as I tried to get employed as a teacher, I couldn’t secure a job. It was out of joblessness that I started writing. That’s a tale for another day.
Growing up on the University of Ife campus really helped my formative years. Meeting Wole Soyinka was a major inspiration and the icing on the cake. Many young boys of those days wished to get arrested in order to acquire the “Soyinkean” experience and fame.
The meat of my epistle today, you can guess, is easily about the recent elections in Nigeria, which has surpassed others before it in all its negative ramifications. The matter is not about who won or who did not win. Not at all. It is about the brazen impunity of how a winner emerged without the umpire, INEC, following its own rules. Had INEC obeyed its own rules, I would have been the first to congratulate whosoever won.
It is shockingly embarrassing to see how we are being told to just adjust, accept the charade and move on, as if this is now our new normal, or just go to court despite the well known booby traps usually along the ways to the court of justice. Not even the usual members of the privilentsia, otherwise known as the Senior Advocate of Nigeria, have the confidence to determine good or bad cases any longer. Opposition voices are systematically being bullied, suppressed and discouraged. This could not have been the democracy we fought for, and certainly not that which we envisaged as compensation for those epic battles against the military juntas.
What I find most baffling is the attitude of many of our former comrades who no longer see nothing wrong in bold faced election rigging. Nothing insults me than those telling us it is an act of disloyalty to speak against our friends who may have been heavily involved in this gargantuan mess.
So I’m now thinking that what they are saying is that it was good to criticise those who were not our friends but we can keep silent and pretend that all is well once our friends can grab power by foul or fair means.
I weep for my country. Some of the people I used to respect so much have now revealed to me that hypocrisy is a virtue. I sincerely do not care if they refuse to speak up for justice, for varying reasons, but I do not expect them to discourage those who are willing and ready to travel the slippery roads.
A man I love so much called my wife aside recently and told her to tell me to support Chief Bola Tinubu because of our past relationships. I simply told my wife that the man should try and be fair to me for the following reasons.
I hold Tinubu in high esteem but we’ve not been in the same political parties since we returned from exile in 1998. I had chosen to be in opposition as my humble and modest contributions to nation-building. Two, I preferred to support individual candidates based on my personal experience and conviction and if I fail or feel disappointed, like in the case of Major General Muhammadu Buhari, I will seek other candidates, thereafter. This is the reason I supported the Atiku/Obi ticket in 2019, at a time I was not yet a member of PDP.
Three, I already tried to seek the PDP Presidential ticket last year and no matter the degree of disappointment, I won’t jump ship just because my friends are contesting in other parties. It just doesn’t make sense to me.
Four. I will not do anti-party like some senior members did remorselessly under flimsy and pretentious excuses. I insist that it is the height of chicanery to set fire to a home under which you still hope to sleep. Better to quit than being the Judas within. You may still come back later, if you wish.
Six. I prefer to give priority to the image and betterment of my country above that of my friends or pecuniary consideration. Anyone who does not appreciate that level of personal sacrifice is certainly an enemy of progress.
7. There are those who have come to attack me on the basis of ethnicity, saying power should come to the South, no matter who fills that space. I beg to disagree, by rising above such pettiness. At nearly 63 years old, I have lived long in Nigeria to understand the fallacy of thinking that bringing a President from your zone will guarantee the progress and advancement of your people. As educated as most people pretend to be, I expect them to place premium on experience, exposure, capacity, stability, and so on, and not on some primordial sentiments. While I do not expect the President to be a Saint, there must be some minimum standards to meet.
It is my right to then choose my preferred candidate just like I never begrudge your own choices.
And finally, throughout my assignment as Director of Strategic Communications for the PDP ATIKU/OKOWA Presidential Campaign Council, I reflected the wishes of my Bosses by keeping to the message, and focus, of our cardinal programmes. If we lost within due process, there would have been no controversy. But I wish to put on record that what happened was a garrison operation and I do not care if every other Nigerian do not to see it that way and so decides to move on as usual. I choose to exercise my right of recording this dissenting voice for posterity.
Long live the Federal Republic of Nigeria…
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