Nigeria, a Waving Flag!

  Nigeria, a Waving Flag!

Monday, October 17, 2011

Today, I remember October 1st 1976. As a Primary 4 pupil of L.A. Primary School, Bola, Oyo, Oyo Town; I joined other pupils from my school to attend the Independence Day celebration at Durbar Stadium.  Penultimate week to this date, those of us who would participate in the March Past, were taught the new National Anthem. Before this time and even a little after the Independence Day, some of us still find it difficult to recite the new anthem. We were sold on ‘Nigeria, We Hail Thee, Our Own Dear Native Land” and found it difficult to understand why we were asked to change to “Arise, O Compatriot!”  Looking back today, I have reasons to believe that while the old anthem celebrated our new found independence, the new anthem challenged us to the task of nation building. With the new anthem, we were told to rise up and heed the call to build a new Nigeria. We were told to open our eyes to the task of nation building, as the euphoria of independence wore away.

Need one say that the pitiable state we found ourselves today was built during those memorable years!

Rather than building the state, our leaders – Obasanjo, Babangida, T.Y. Danjuma, Shagari, etc. – were building mansions. As a primary school pupil, I carried with me memories of those days.

Xmas of 1977 was particularly fresh. Obasanjo banned importation of cloths to stimulate local production and to revamp the ailing economy. However, prior to the ban, my mother had bought ‘Won’yosi’, one of the banned stuffs, as our Xmas cloths. Resplendent in this new dress, the first locally-made dress I ever had, we went to church and were eagerly waiting for my father, the Pastor of our Church, to dismount the pulpit so that we can rush home to kill the Xmas fowls. 

My favourite pastime then was killing fowls. I was too eager to get home ahead of my siblings so that none of them would beat me to my pastime.

Why my father’s sermon was short that day, I cannot remember. But I can recall vividly that a Police man cut our joy of the moment short when he arrested the three of us for wearing contrabands! How old were we, you may want to know? Wale, my brother, was 6; Kemi, my senior sister, was 11; and I was 9. We were detained on a Xmas day!

How our father knew of the arrest eluded us. My only recollection was of a commotion at the Police Station's counter and people restraining my father. He was furious! Slapping this, tearing at the other; he was completely beside himself. He cared not if he was shot for beating a police man right in the police station. His concern was for us, his children! However, he was lucky that it was in 1977 and not in 2011.

We got home only to meet all fowls, four of them, already killed. The arrest meant nothing to me. It was the fowls. I felt so bad that I never bothered to ask mother who killed them. It was a very bad Xmas, I must say. Anyway, 1978 Easter was another day. I refused to go to church not for fear of another possible arrest, as we wore another locally-made material, but for fear that some other thing may prevent me from killing the fowls.

Sardine and Titus (canned fishes) were prime things then. Despite that my father was rich by the standard of the time; nothing will stop us from stealing one or two tins of those canned fishes for Easter Picnic at Galilee, which was located at Kosobo Area in Oyo town. Thank God Mum is dead now; she would have  been shocked to read that we normally stole her Sardine and Titus despite that she usually packed our stuffs so well that we never lacked anything at any Easter/Galilee.

Sardine and Titus were not the only lure for Galilee: the sheer fact that we would be together with our peers, away from the watchful eyes of both our parents and teachers, for an entire day made Easter and Galilee different in our lives. I miss my Easter and Galilee!

It is normal to forget a pair of shoes or even a shirt, as we play around. Many a child would not know the actual location of her/his family members and would wonder around a whole day looking for them. There were no armed robbers then! No arsonists! No bombers! No kidnappers! No OPC! NO MEND! No BOKO HARAM! So, we can wander and wander till our legs felt numb. Wale, my brother who is now a big RCCG Pastor in Abuja, once got lost! I felt so bad. I cried profusely. I cannot bear the thought of losing my only brother. I am sure now that he will be reading this; he will be shocked to know that I have always loved him, even more than myself. When we found him, I could not contain myself. I was just crying. Shedding tears of joy! Tears of reunion, of the fact that he would be by my side when I wake up for school the next day.

The day after Easter, which for us is nothing than Galilee and Sardine and Titus and Bread and play, unlimited play, was Tuesday. We will rush to school to recount and share the joy of Easter with our schoolmates. The girls, funny enough, would still come with their ribbons, hairdos and make-ups that their mamas forced on them the day before. Our Muslim friends and classmates, looking at us with amazement and jealousy, would rue such opportunities, which normally come when they also observed their two ‘Yidi ceremonies’.

Where were those days? Will my three musketeers ever experience such days in their lives? Yes, today they have DSTVs, Wiis, NITENDOs, etc. that were non-existent in our own days. But can these compare with the love, the joy and the freedom we shared and enjoyed and some of us still nostalgically crave for? 

What about the friendship we cultivated in those days? I remember Akintayo Oraka, Segun (Adisa), Taiwo Oladokun, Tunde Olashinde, Olawuwo Rasaki, Segun Bolarinwa (Atuka), Mayowa Adeosun, Kayode Oyedoja, Niyi Segilola, Niyi Okeola, Joseph Abraham, Dele Olaegbe, Dele Obaseki, Abu Tijani Ademola, Ayodele Japhet, Arinade Yomi Adejumo, Kayode Adeyanju, Rotimi Adeyanju, Chidume Sunday, Kayode Fakunle, Tunde Fakunle, Dayo (omo Mama elemu), Yaya, Alade (Survey House) Tundun and Saki (in front of Agboye Baptist Church), Shade Ohu, etc. They were some of the boys and girls that we shared Galilee together! We remain till today. 

Yes, we went after our different passions. We competed without hating one another. Oraka is now a big gun in GLO! Segun Adisa is at a Local Council in Ogbomoso, Taiwo Oladokun is now a Director General with the Federal Government, Tunde Olashinde is with Ministry of Culture, Olawuwo is a big time Lawyer, etc. etc. Will my son, Bayo, in ten years’ time, recall the friends he shared all kinds of games with when he was in Class 4? I think and strongly feel, he would remember his PSP pad than his friends of 2011 come 2021!

Where were those days and why cannot I give my three musketeers the same experience? Why are the times different? 

I remember my mother, a Pastor’s wife. Her friends were basically members of our church, mostly wives of my father’s friends. She could not be a banker! Who would take care of us? Who would watch over our first faltering steps? No woman of her time would work with MTN, Glo, Etisalat, etc. They were too consumed with what sort of kids we were and what sort of adults they would mold out of our prankish selves to pursue such careers! Not that they were not educated, but the society needed (and still needs) better citizens and they were nation-builders in their own rights! They and their husbands were not consumed with the passion to ride Hummers, 4-Matic, My X5, End of Discussion, Honda Allah, etc.! They were content with motorcycles, VWs, 404s, 504s, and Citroens!

Little wonder none from my generation is a 419er; none understood yahoo-yahoo! None of our girls are prostitutes. See Arinade today, beautiful as of old. She is going 50 and gracefully beautiful. Little wonder working hard and not cutting corners still make us happy and fulfilled! We would not know yahoo+, because our fathers and mothers had their eyes fixed on us and not on Agodi, Alausa, and Aso Rock! They come home from work every day to the warm embraces of our mothers! We know the humming of their motorcycles and VWs! We watch them leave home in the morning. They sometimes drop us in our schools before journeying unto their offices! They cannot come home at night when we are fast asleep. We share siestas together at 6.00 PM! We waited on them to turn on the TVs at 9.P! Remember those TVs with 4 knobs? Volume, Contrast, V and H knobs! They were with no Remote Controllers! They were simply ANALOG! We watched Michael Jackson and Lionel Richie pouring out their souls on those TVs. We watched Edison (Edson) Arantes 'Santes' do Nascimento (The Great Pele), Maradona and our own Odegbami, Owo-Blow on those TVs! I started following Manchester United since then. My favorite club was however ICC. In Oyo Town, Olivet Baptist football team were the best. They beat us 11-0 one day. The date was also 11. I was in secondary school at this time. 

We did not have Videos and DVDs, but we also watched Baba Sala’s ‘Come and See, American Wonder” at Akesan Town Hall. Alaafin was with us in 1978. There was no security fuss around him. Even in 1983 when Alex Ekwueme visited Oyo, we lined up the roads to welcome him. No one tried to kill him. We were no such kids! We had no such youths! No such adults! We did not aggregate around Manchester United FC, Arsenal FC and Chelsea FC; yes, we knew them and some of us loved them, but we did not see them as ours. We love ICC, Water Corporation, Gaskiya, Stationery Stores, etc. But Bola Ige rallied us around ‘Kekere Akin” – the Young Pioneers. And I remember that we, the Young Pioneers, built Durbar Stadium in Oyo! We were nation builders, because our parents were ones and taught us to be too!

Let me also tell you, we had no fences, but hedges. No barbed wires on our walls and no burglar-proofs on our windows. We had flowers and trees and everywhere was green. We buy banana and oranges on roadsides with no one at the stands. We simply picked the bananas, dropped the money inside the basins and went on our ways!

Today, we have all things and nothing! We have bombers, poverty-ridden people, rapists, kidnappers, hostage-takers, etc. Today, pets eat on tables while millions of people pick their daily breads from the garbage cans! We have Freedom of Information Act, Satellite TVs, CNN, etc.; but million of nairas disappear from tiny offices without a single trace. We had cocoa, palm oil and groundnuts and Awolowo built the first TV and Radio stations in Africa! Need we add Obafemi Awolowo University and Liberty Stadium! Today, oil money flows in trillions of dollars, yet Oyinlola could not build a ten-kilometer road in Iresi! Rather than crying in disgrace, Akala is bleaching gleefully over the place! First TV and Radio stations, Obafemi Awolowo University and Liberty Stadium, etc. were services to the people! Today, pot-holes, dried-taps, unemployment and looting of treasury are the ‘dividends of democracy’ that we got! How many houses did James Onanefe Ibori buy in Dubai after how many years in government? Did Sardauna of Sokoto build a hut for himself, despite fighting, with Zik and Awo, against colonialism?

Please allow me to cry for my Nigeria, I have struggled so hard to hold back my tears! Who took away my Nigeria? Who ruined so great a promise? Where is my Nigeria? Yes, even as bad as it is today, please, take away the Abujas and Agodis, the DVDs and DSTVs, the NITENDOs and PSPs, the BLACKBERRYs and NOKIAs, the Hummers and Camrys! Just restore to me my stolen Nigeria. It is mine, please. Restore to me that old national anthem! Let me rejoice in my freedom once again!

Jonathan Ebele Goodluck, restore Nigeria to me, please. I have missed her so much. I will make do with what is left of it. A nation is forever young. A nation, I repeat, is forever young. The older it gets, the younger it becomes. It is like a flag, when good wind blows it, it flutters in the air. When adverse wind blows it, it recoils and folds on its pole. Jonathan, Nigeria’s flag recoils at you and folds on its pole; if only you can restore it to me, it will flutter again. It will rise and stand up to its name and greatness once again! If only you can restore it back to me!

Please, my brothers and sisters do not just sit and watch this rape on our collective intelligence, join the train for change now! Join the Nigerian Spring!

Bukola Adeyemi, Oyeniyi
17/10/2011