What do you remember about growing up?
I just found myself in Ibadan when I was very young. My uncle was in Ibadan and my mother helped him to get a wife. We came back from Ibadan not very long ago and my mother said okay, I should join them so I would be able to interpret the Yoruba language to her. So, I followed. By then, my father was in Ibadan. I stayed there for two years and from there, I began to have problems with the wife. They always had one issue or the other. Of course, I was always on the side of my uncle. The woman didn’t like me for that. It got to a peak and my father said I should come back home. It was after that that my mother came to Ibadan. I may have been in Ibadan from 1946.
How did you feel staying with your uncle at that age, even when your dad was still alive?
There was no discrimination. The only discrimination I had was the constant quarrel I told you about. At times in the early hours of the morning when my uncle wanted to go to work, she would just block the road. Though I didn’t know what they were quarreling about, childishly I would push her out the way and tell her to allow my uncle to go to work. When my uncle was gone, she would beat the hell out of me, but I wouldn’t tell my uncle when he returned because if I did, she would beat me the more. The story, however, got to my father through my brother who was living not far away that the woman was maltreating me. At times, they would quarrel and she would hold the man’s tie, tried to strangulate him. I never for once sat my uncle down to ask him the cause of their quarrel.
And how did your father react?
Then, my mother was still in the East, so my father asked me to come and stay with him. His third wife was with him then. The first one had died, while my mother was the second and the third one was the one who came to stay with my father in Ibadan. My mother was looking after the rest of the children at home.
How was your primary school experience?
Then, until your hand could touch your ear, you were not of school age, even if you were old or brilliant enough. For two years or more I was rejected. In those days, you started from kindergarten. You moved from 1A to 1B. It was a long process, but if you were lucky, you got it done in about eight or nine years. In 1950 when I was in standard three, I came to the East where I completed my primary education in 1954. In 1955, I went to St. Thomas Teacher Training College. It was an emergency programme, as we used to call it that time. Awolowo was the foremost in doing the right thing.
What excited you most while in primary school?
I can’t forget one Miss Popoola. We even used to sing using her name. She went to school in Onitsha and was able to speak Igbo language very well. Anytime we sat for any examination, she made sure that you gave your own story in your own native language. She was able to understand if I spoke Igbo. She rated me high because I used to tell stories that she was used to while she was in Onitsha. Back then, teachers were very serious. They were very careful, but very strict. If you came to school late, they would flog the hell out of you. We used to trek all the way from Oke-Ado to Oke-Bola side and didn’t feel tired or worn out because we were young. We were about six always doing that. But while in school, I was not conversant with Igbo language, so I was only writing in Yoruba language. Because of my previous knowledge of the language though, it didn’t take me time to shift over to Igbo language.
It appears you have always been strong-hearted
I would say it’s a gift from God because in those days, if you travelled out of town and came back, the boys that had been at home saw you as a softie; a bread and butter child, so, they harassed you at any chance they had, but I was able to stand up to them. In fact, I beat one of them who was bigger than I was and was also my senior in school. I was so tough that one woman had to drag me to my mother to report me as a very stubborn boy. But my mother replied the woman that I wasn’t troublesome, rather, it was those people who wanted to test whether I was really a softie, and that she instructed me not look for anybody’s trouble, but if they looked for mine, I should try as much as possible to beat the person.
How easy was it for your school fees to be paid?
My brother left college in 1953, while in 1954 I also had to go to college. My father worked at the Department of Public Works in Ibadan and had just come back. He told me he had no money. What was one to do? If you finished from school those days and you did very well in primary school, they could employ you as a pupil teacher and one could teach for about a year or two. They were looking for more teachers and at that time St. Thomas was looking for teachers. That year, the headquarters wasn’t in my town, but we were told that anyone looking for teaching appointment should come. Many of us went for the exams and luckily, I was one of the best. They compiled names of ten of us and the Reverend Father told us that if we were not prepared to go to college, they had no place for us. We were what you could term emergency teachers at that time and we were sent there. That was how I started it. I never contemplated I would get into college that early but the circumstances of the situation. At that time, Chief Awolowo’s free education programme was in place.
What were the circumstances that inspired you to join the Army?
I joined the Army in 1971. In September of same year, my father died. Since I left in 1967, I had not gone there, especially since I got married. The Bishop said he wanted to see us. I told the Bishop we were only going to spend two days. That night, I started to think about my sick father and I told the Bishop I was leaving. When I got home, my father was almost dying, so we took him to the hospital. Along the line, we were making friends with some soldiers. They would stop over at my place, especially soldiers from Benue. I used to admire the uniform and their smartness. It was the day we were going to bury my father. They brought letter from the Military Secretary’s office that they approved my recruitment into the Army just as we were going, two soldiers came to me and said I should go because they were Warrant Officers and that they never had anyone in their life history who was commissioned as a Captain into the Army. They pleaded with me to go. When I got there, I was so impressed.
What were the memories you still have of the University of Ife?
Professor Wole Soyinka was one of our teachers. University of Ife had a lot of problems then. There was the Action Group (AG) and there was Chief Akintola’s party, who was in charge of Western Region. But a lot of people were behind AG and you didn’t need to be told Soyinka was one of the die-hard members of AG. One day, he was holding a lecture with us and excused himself. After some time, he came back and started packing his books. We asked what was happening and he said ‘don’t mind these people. They want everybody to join the party of Akintola’ and he was leaving. ‘You can’t leave us like that,’ we begged him. He just came and we were getting used to him. He said well, we will meet again. As we were talking, he just left. Honestly, we were disillusioned. Some of us contemplated changing course of study. This is because he was the pillar of our English Language. Not that we were so good. At times, we would have even written everything and one ended up with a C-, but we were happy. He would encourage you, saying don’t worry, as time goes on, you would progress.
Where did you meet your wife?
I met her at home. By then, I came home for holiday. That was when I saw her. Her aunt lived behind my father’s house. So, anytime she passed, I would see her and I would ask others few questions about her. The second son of her aunt was a friend of my elder brother, so I asked my brother to find out who the girl was. I was told the father was harsh and that I shouldn’t even bother to go anywhere near her. I said okay. But I saw her just once before I finally went back to Ozora, while she went back to her school.
Is there anything she usually complains of?
That was then, but not anymore. While I was in the Army, I developed some level of impatience and often got angry even over minor things. When we are together, she would say; why did you do this now?
How did you survive the civil war?
It is a long story, but God is a wonderful God. On the third day of October, they said they were going to pay us and that we should go to Asaba. When we got there, the people were scanty but they were rushing down from Onitsha because Asaba was in turmoil because the federal troops were closing in. That was when I was coming. I took two others, who were also teachers, and we drove to Asaba. When we moved around for a while and nothing happened, I dropped my in-law at Ogwuachukwu. By this time, I was already getting close to my wife. When we were coming back, we saw one lady who was stranded. No vehicle stopped to pick her. She waved frantically and even wanted to jump in front of my car, so I stopped the car and I asked who she was. She said she was a cousin to one Mr. Okolo, a Math teacher in one of the Anglican Colleges. Although the car was full, I asked if she could manage as there were three men at the back and my brother was at the front. She didn’t mind, but my brother said I shouldn’t give her a ride her because the car was already full. I didn’t like the idea of carrying a woman, but I didn’t know the problem she had and so, I would carry her. Unfortunately, federal troops moved very fast from Agbor. The groups that were supposed to pass my town were slowed down and ambush was laid for them. This was around 2:00 a.m. We didn’t know that Nigerians had laid ambush at Ogwuachukwu. We heard a shot and someone said we should stop. We stopped and came down. They were beating everybody, but nobody touched me. One was beating my brother and I said; ‘why are you beating this man?’ He said sharrap. I was a young man and I didn’t know anything. One Lieutenant came out and said to me; do you know what you are doing here? I said I was coming from Asaba, why should he be asking me what I was doing there. What saved me that day was my plate number. My number was MA (Mid West, Asaba). One man said they should look at my plate number. He said okay, where are you going? I said I am going back. ‘Who are these? he asked. I told him they were my elder brother and his colleagues. Who is this lady? The lady was the one that got us in trouble. She said she didn’t know where she was as we saw her in Asaba and they gave her a ride. The man said we were those who carried people’s wives and killed them. I said this lady, can’t you talk? Can’t you tell them what happened? She said she was confused and I just gave her a ride. So, the soldier said I should step aside and asked my brother and the others to march to the post office. My brother told them that he would not leave me because I was the only brother he had and that whatever they were going to do, they should do it to him. But I said brother, don’t worry, but he said he won’t leave me. As we were talking, some reverend sisters arrived. They asked the reverend sisters to take the woman along with them. So, I quickly told the reverend sisters who I was and that I was once a teacher at St. Pius Grammar school and that the lady was a liar. I started talking and admitted that my brother asked me not to carry her but I decided to help her after saying that Mr Okolo, a teacher at one Anglican school, was her cousin. They said they knew Okolo, so, I begged the Reverend Sister to help ask the lady to tell the truth. Luckily, the officers agreed with me and told the lady if she refused to say the truth, they would detain her there with me. At this point, she said she was sorry because she was confused. She confessed that I saw her and there was no transport at Asaba, adding that I was the only one that stopped to pick her. Suddenly, the officer slapped her and said if they had not been cautious, they could have shot me. They apologised for what had happened and said we could leave. About 500 poles from us, three cars with passengers were set ablaze.
and then