Why Awolowo organised send-off party for me when I wanted to study Law overseas —Adebanjo

(Being an excerpt from ‘Telling it as it is’, the autobiography of Chief Ayo Adebanjo)

CONTINUED FROM YESTERDAY

But he refused, saying that being Okorodudu’s private secretary wouldn’t be challenging enough. That I had many tasks ahead of me in Nigeria as an organising secretary, and a pillar and beam of the party.

‘When you are ready to go you will go,’ Chief Awolowo explained. I then gave up the idea, though I felt disappointed. It must be stated, however, that the appointment of Chief Okorodudu was not without controversy. This was because, apparently, other regions did not understand the status of this office under a federal system as did Chief Awolowo.

But not long after, the other regions followed suit by appointing their own Agents-General. I remember Alhaji Abdulmalik for the Northern Region and Chief F.O. Achara (Eastern Region).

I only knew Okorodudu at the party level. I didn’t have any special relationship with him. I wanted to be an attaché, just like the NCNC did for Matthew Mbu, who was sent abroad. He was not better than me when he was made the High Commissioner to the United Kingdom. Some members of the Ibo State Union later founded the NCNC (National Council of Nigeria and the Camerouns) in 1944. Herbert Macaulay became the leader of NCNC while Dr. Nnamdi Azikiwe was secretary.

Zik used his articles in West African Pilot to promote the cause of the Ibos, above all else. So, there were claims and counter-claims as to which of Egbe Omo Oduduwa and Ibo State Union was a tribal association. These generated verbal bullets from the opposing sides; but there was no bitterness.

 

Chapter 4

Sojourn in the UK

The time I was working for the Action Group, I had always known that my stay was going to be short-lived. It was meant to source for money to fund the desire I had nursed since 1950 to study Law overseas.

In support of this ambition, my mother had promised that whenever I was ready to go abroad she would give me some assistance. She made good this promise.

With the donation made to me by the party chieftains at my send-off, I was able to travel abroad and even buy a house on mortgage in England.

I left the shores of Nigeria on December 31, 1957 and arrived the UK on January 13, 1958. I had become a far more mature man in 1957. At 29, I thought about my career and the future – and plotted to do something about it – something I had always wanted to do since 1950.

My ambition was to pursue my education, and be a party leader. From CMS Grammar School, I had always dreamt of becoming a lawyer. There were leading lawyers at the time; and when I became a reporter, my fascination grew. I enjoyed the court sessions, the performances of the lawyers. And they were well dressed.

Whilst in school, the leading politicians were mostly lawyers, which further intensified my interest. When I told Chief Awolowo this time that I wanted to go abroad to study Law, he welcomed the move. He was more than willing to let his faithful disciple and dependable ally improve himself. He gave his prayers. But some didn’t understand what a young man full of promise, already earning the salary of a crown counsel (what is today called state counsel), wanted abroad. But no one could talk me out of my mission.

In fact, I was attracted to stay. I had two cars at my disposal, a Vanguard Estate (bought for campaign) and Opel Caravan. When I was leaving, there was competition among organising secretaries to replace me. (There was Adeniya Samuel from Oyo Division and Olomola from Egbado Division).

Although I was Organising Secretary for Remo Division, I was everywhere, supervising elections in tough areas. I was very dutiful, didn’t need supervision. So, Chief Awolowo wanted someone who could cope with any situation.

They appreciated my service and knew they would miss me. At his Oke-Ado residence in Ibadan, then capital of Western Region, Chief Awolowo staged a send-off party for me.

Attended by high-ranking officials of Action Group, ministers and legislators (formerly called parliamentarians), and the movers and shakers of that era, it was an honour I cherished very much. There were about 40 guests at the party.

One of the ministers at the time, Chief Odebiyi, was amazed that Chief Awolowo was organising a party for me.

It was unusual for organising secretaries to be so honoured. I was the first to enjoy such adulation. We were supposed to be career organising secretaries.

Chief Awolowo spoke highly of me at the send-off party. This remark drew Chief Odebiyi’s admiration. He came to the conclusion that I must have performed so well to earn it.

I was regarded as a member of the Awolowo family. They treated me well in Ikenne and Ibadan. Anytime I got there late, they prepared food for me.

One of Chief Awolowo’s endearing qualities was the manner in which he treated everyone with courtesy and respect. He never saw me as an underdog. Even as Premier of Western Region, he was very civil to all. That amazed me to no end.

With the £300 my mother gave me and my savings (of about £600), the monthly contribution from the co-operative association which I joined with my friends, where we took turns as beneficiaries (with Ositelu of Ikeja Division using his own to start his house and Babalola from Ekiti investing his in a worthwhile project), I had quite a huge sum of money to begin life with. My mother had saved towards my trip, keeping money with one of her customers.

That was how I could buy a property in England (I wasn’t working, I only worked during the summer). I knew then through Sir Olaniwun Ajayi that you needed only £350 which you deposited for the mortgage. You would then pay every month.

On top of the encomiums at the residence of the Premier of Western Region, where I was eulogised and my efforts in the four years as Organising Secretary praised to high heavens, Pa Awolowo raised funds for me.

He wrote a letter to some leaders of the party to make financial contributions. The least amount I got was £25. The contributions came to about £500. It was a lot of money at that time. (Chiefs S. L. Akintola, Rotimi Williams, S.O. Gbadamosi, Akanni Doherty, Alfred Rewane, Obafemi Awolowo, J.O. Odebiyi and Dr. Akinola Maja, and members of the cabinet, contributed). Many members of the party did so too.

By the time I was leaving as Organising Secretary, I already had my own car which I got through a loan. I sold it when I was travelling. This extra fund came in handy. Well prepared for the trip to England, having given away things I would no longer need, I packed my bags, ready to board MV Aureol.

I   spent the night before travelling to England at Isale- gangan with Mosunmola Folarin, a timber merchant whom I met in Sagamu. He was a successful merchant who had lorries. I normally stayed with him anytime I came to Lagos. He was from Makun area of Sagamu (where I stayed then).

On December 31, 1957, at Apapa Port (Lagos), along with my bosom pal, G.O. Sodipo, we set sail. We (Sodipo and I) had already secured our seats on MV Aureol. We were classmates, and had always been friends. When I was at Medical Headquarters, he was with Government Press.

When he got married, he spent his honeymoon with his wife in my house at Sagamu. But he was not a party man, he was not politically inclined. He also studied Law in England.

There were only two passenger ships then: MV Aureol and MV Apapa. Travelling by sea to England took two weeks, it used to take a month. You could also board a plane; that took three days. But I couldn’t afford a flight ticket for MV Aureol ticket was between £50 and £100, which was affordable. I had got my passport in Lagos. The passport, a colonial travel document, was free.

Smooth-sailing, you could describe the trip on MV Aureol, the passenger ship that ferried humans and cargo on sea. For the two weeks that the voyage lasted from Apapa to Liverpool Port, there was no major storm or unusual turbulence. The journey was uneventful.

I had enormous time to plan my future, re-design my fate or at least try to influence it positively. There was my friend and classmate, Gabriel Oliyide Sodipo, beside me – and we exchanged stories and long silences. We ate, drank and spoke about everything under the sky. We also left many things unsaid.

On January 13, 1958, MV Aureol anchored. I headed straight to London by train that took only a few hours. Olaniwun Ajayi, my close friend since 1954, warmly received me in the city at Euston Station, along with Chief Olu Adebanjo (who later became Shehu Shagari’s Special Adviser on Information).

Our relationship blossomed after I registered Ajayi into the Action Group, and we had always been in touch, even when we were apart. We were like brothers.

When he (Ajayi) had his first child, a son (now Dr. Ola Ajayi, a medical doctor), I was not around in Sagamu. I was away in Ilorin, and when I heard, I brought a turkey from there for the christening. We did many things for each other, watched each other’s back, and lightened burdens wherever we were concerned without question. Now that Olaniwun Ajayi was in England ahead of me, to study Law, it was never an issue that I would be his guest until I settled down properly.

The city of London was far different from anywhere I had been. The roads were far wider, the houses more wondrous and beautiful, and the system far more organised beyond my imagination. There were faster and neater trains, while the buses and taxis were more easily accessible. I marvelled at the products of serious people, what focus and purposefulness, and genuine care for compatriots and country, could accomplish.

I settled at No. 187, Mayall Road, in South-East London (in Brixton), and lived in Ajayi’s apartment (his wife was not there then), and never paid a dime throughout the four months I was there. It rekindled our friendship and bonded our brotherhood. We had been like 6 and 7 ever since.

Mortgage was easily available over there and the amount of deposit necessary was just ten percent,  which  was affordable.

While still living with Mr. Ajayi, he made a constant contact with his agent, who informed him of the availability of an apartment near him at No. 233, Mayall Street, for£3,350.

We quickly visited the apartment and, having been satisfied with its condition,  jumped at the offer.  I  was particularly delighted because it would afford  us  the opportunity of being close to each other.

So, I paid about £350 through a mortgage company while the rest was spread over 20 years. I then moved into the apartment.

During our sojourn, a high standard of cleanliness was maintained through a roster of cleaning the common access, the corridor and the bathroom among the tenants. As a result, we hardly had any vacant room in the house. Whenever anyone moved out, new tenants quickly moved in because it was a neat apartment. At the end of my sojourn in England, I sold the apartment in 1962, paid the balance of the mortgage and used part of the proceeds to buy some furniture which my wife brought home from England.

Among my tenants, I remember M.O. Bello (whose son, Lekan Bello was Commissioner for Finance in Ogun State in Gov. Gbenga Daniel’s first term, 2003-2007). We knew ourselves from Nigeria. He contacted me when he was coming to England that he would like to stay with me. He came around 1959 or 1960, after being a manager at UAC.

He came to study Accounting. Then, there was Olomola who succeeded me as Organising Secretary in Remo Division.

My major concern, as soon as I got to England and found my bearing, was to conclude my GCE ‘A’ Level (in Economics, History and British Constitution).

I was conscious of the fact that at almost 30, I was an old man studying. So, the moment I got to England, I became rather more serious. I concentrated all my energy on my studies at Westminster College. It was an evening school.

Tunde Ogunnaike, another old friend from Lagos, who was a customs officer, took me to the college for enrolment. Westminster College was an international school, and he was the only Nigerian there at the time.

I did my studies during the day since I was a full-time student. For the first nine months, I read hard, until my eyes ached and my back throbbed. When I took the exams I had no fear. I passed the GCE exams well. I was also conscious of the fact that I had a limited amount of money, and so could not afford to fail. This made me frugal. I had a white girlfriend, Sylvia, but the relationship didn’t last long. That was in 1959, the same year I met my wife, Christie.

Apart from the extra income I made from rent, I sustained myself with a summer holiday job at Unilever. I worked there as a clerk, on the recommendation of Chief Obafemi Awolowo who gave me a letter (drafted by Chief Folarin  Coker’s wife,  Apinke,  who was  Awo’s  secretary). The additional income came in handy and conquered many challenges.

Qualifying as a lawyer was my next major preoccupation after passing my GCE ‘A’ Level. I registered at Lincoln’s Inn (the oldest of the Inns of Court and the most popular among Nigerians in the latter part of 1958).

There are four inns of court, namely: Lincoln’s Inn, Gray’s Inn, Inner Temple and Middle Temple, whose members attended lectures at the Council of Legal Education. In 1960, I took the Bar exams at Lincoln’s Inn.

There were three exams in a year, and you could take any – in May, September or December. Students were required to take eleven subjects in three days, and await the result.

And the rigours of taking such number of papers in a short time was scary. Everyone dreaded the exams and the result.

There was a programme; so you knew when the exam was, and when the result would be released. The calendar of the Council of Legal Education was such that both the time of the examination and publication of the result were contained therein. I failed the first time because I rushed my studies. I thought it was easy, the way I took my GCE. The subjects were varied and it made lawyers very versatile. Meanwhile, politics never left me, even in London. I was the Secretary of the Action Group’s London branch (with Chief Z.O.K. Adetula as chairman, Ben and Tunde Oluwole, Chief Olu Aboderin and Mr. S. P. Ajibade as members, among scores of other Nigerians).

The Action Group always had a branch in London and it was natural I joined them. When I became the Secretary, I organised a weekly ‘Any Question about the Action Group?’ Session for members in London.

This weekly briefing kept members of the party in London abreast of the party’s activities back home.  So, any leader that came would meet the members who in turn asked them questions about the party and politics in Nigeria. Whenever members of the party came from Nigeria, I hosted and organised their itinerary, ensuring that they graced scheduled meetings and honoured appointments. They were briefed about goings-on in England. Even Chief Awolowo came on a number of occasions, especially during constitutional conferences.

During these visits, I was always honoured by Chief Awolowo who gave me the privilege of hosting him in my house on Mayall Road.

I always prepared the food myself. I learnt cooking through Sir Olaniwun Ajayi. He was a good cook, being a product of Wesley College, Ibadan where, as a teacher training institution, cooking was part of their grooming. Ajayi later crowned this by having a master cook as his wife.

I also played host to Chief Ladoke Akintola and his wife Faderera whenever they were on a visit to London.

On one of Awo’s visits during which he was accompanied by his son, Segun, who was studying Law at Cambridge at the time, Chief Awolowo showed how much of a disciplinarian he was when he scolded Segun for not greeting me. Unknown to him however, Segun had greeted me at the reception.

When I got to London, both Ajayi and myself joined Ijebu Students’ Union (Egbe Omo Alare). Dr. Tai Oworu was then the president. The Ijebu students of the time organised a reception for Awolowo.

Most of us who were members of the party in England often benefited from financial gifts from our leaders whenever they came on a visit from Nigeria, in particular Chief Alfred Rewane. On the occasion of my wedding, for instance, I remember Chief Rewane gave me a cheque for £30. He often showed affection for me anytime because of my activities in the party. It was natural for Chief Awolowo to address us (members of the party) as his friends and colleagues without any air of superiority. He always called many of the members by their first names. He had a pet name for many of us, his colleagues.

For example  A2  (Abraham  Adesanya),  Ayus  (Ayo Adebanjo), LK (Lateef Jakande), Bisi (Bisi Onabanjo), Bola (Bola Ige), Alfredo (Alfred Rewane), SOS (Shonibare), MA (Michael Ajasin), to mention a few.

However, I was one of those sponsored to attend the Independence celebrations  (on  October  1,  1960)  on the invitation of the government of Western Region of Nigeria.

With  an allowance, hotel accommodation and a car,  all arranged by the Agent-General, we were treated like foreign guests in Nigeria. Even members of the National Council of Nigerian Citizens (NCNC) were invited by AG. Tobi Dafe was President of the Students’ Union. The Western Region invited him and some others for the independence celebration in Nigeria. He came with me and Z.O.K. Adetula; Vincent Egbarin, who was chairman of the London branch of NCNC, was also invited.

We were here for a few weeks, participating in the various ceremonies staged to lower the Union Jack and fly high the green-white-green flag of Nigeria (designed by Michael Taiwo Akinkunmi, who beat three thousand other contestants at a competition in 1959).

While I was here, my wife delivered on October 6, 1960, of a bouncing baby girl (Adeola, now Mrs. Azeez). We were still celebrating in Nigeria when I received the news by cablegram.

The official activities in Nigeria over, I returned to see my daughter for the first time. The naming of Adeola was done when I got back to London. Mrs. Awolowo was the godmother and Mrs. Tola Oyediran, her daughter, represented her at the christening ceremony. Adeola was born at Annie McCall, Stockwell, South London, and was christened at Herne Hill (an Anglican church). Party members in London attended the christening.

With the euphoria of the christening over, I awaited my fate at the Bar exams. Because no one could really say with any certainty how the result would swing, Ajayi and I decided not to tell my young wife the exact day the full list of those who sat for the exams and their grades would be published.

We gave another date, one long week after the results would have been known.

I was at home that day, and Ajayi sneaked away to buy the paper (London Times) at midnight, the day the result was expected. He rushed back and screamed, ‘You made it!’ Then my wife heard the noise and asked what the matter was. I couldn’t hide it again. I said it was the Bar exams’ result. That I made it – and we all jubilated.

When the result of the Bar exams came, it was special. I passed with no reference. My result was good in constitutional law, criminal law, contract and tort, land law, and equity.

It was the practice in the form before you were enrolled at the Bar to state where you came from, not knowing that such details would be published along with your results. So, I listed Ogbo/Okelamuren.

Back home, the name Okelamuren in a foreign paper elicited great joy and pride from my townspeople. They were so proud of me.

Even among the political parties in Nigeria, there was no animosity at that time. We as members of opposing parties were more or less facing the colonialists, and we were progressives. This was reflected among the students’ community in London.

The cordiality that existed between the AG and the NCNC, London Branch, was such that at the time I was returning to Nigeria, the Chairman of the NCNC London Branch, Vincent Egbarin (father of Mrs. Joko Abebe, nee Egbarin) organised a send-off party for me at Western Nigeria House in London.

Before I finished my exams, there was crisis at home, and there was pressure from Chief Awolowo that I should come back home in late 1961. I was called to the Bar in June

‘61, and came back home in November. In November 1961, with my wife left behind in London to conclude her studies, and heavily pregnant (with our second baby), I headed home finally; this time on a plane and I arrived at the airport in Lagos.

I was met at the airport by M.A.K. Shonowo (one of the leaders of  Action  Group from  Remo Division who’s also a friend), and my parents (Salamotu and Joel Adebanjo Adedairo). When I went to my village, Okelamuren, they lined up for me on the streets, organised a party; happily chanting and dancing. Now qualified as a lawyer, and more politically savvy, married and a father (of three children), I came home to make a mark, improve my country and myself, in all the ways I could.

 

 

Chapter 5

Starting a Family

Long before I was self-conscious, very mature and in search of a woman, I had always been particular about my appearance. I gave it more than enough attention,

I took dressing very seriously. Spotless Banjus, the nickname I was called by my classmates and some teachers, right from Form 1 in 1944 at CMS Grammar School, was not for nothing.

I elicited admiration, and many looked at me more than twice. Gazes trailed me.

So, anytime I was on holiday (from CMS Grammar School in my senior years), I went to Ijebu-Ode where I had my eyes on a cute, young lady, Bimpe Dina. She was herself a student of Ijebu-Ode Girls’ School, and was my neighbour, living opposite my uncle’s house on Gbelegbuwa Street, Iyanro.

We enjoyed each other’s company and spent quite a lot of time together. When both of us left secondary school, we remained very close. Everyone knew we had the hots for each other.

 By the time I was working at Medical Headquarters as a clerk, Bimpe and I had become an item. She was training to be a nurse at the General Hospital on Broad Street, Lagos.

Living together was the next best option, but we had to become man and wife first, legally. In 1952, at a registry, St. Anna Court, Tinubu, we signed the ‘dotted lines,’ became Mr. and Mrs. Ayo Adebanjo.

Princess Street, Lagos, in my bedroom and living room abode when I was barely 24, was where we made home. She was pregnant at the time, and we looked forward to a new tot. When a boy was delivered shortly after our nuptials, we were high-spirited.

But the boy only lived for a few days! We were devastated, inconsolable. It took sometime before we acknowledged the radiance of the sun and accepted our fate. Two years later, in 1954, a child, a daughter (Ayotunde, who later became a teacher), came into our lives.

Work, activism and politics took me around, and Bimpe was not comfortable with my constant absence.

When I was appointed as the Organising Secretary of Remo Division by the Action Group in 1954, and moved to Sagamu, she didn’t leave Lagos. She didn’t come with me to the place I made home for the next three years. She stayed back in Lagos, and only left when she was transferred to Ibadan.

Our marriage became strained. She was becoming intolerant, agitated and unpleasant. The union became painful and joyless. We began to have disagreements over minor family matters. Bimpe filed for divorce in 1955, alleging adultery.

Not quite shocked about the turn of events, I received the divorce papers in Sagamu without any bitterness. I didn’t contest the divorce nor did I go to court to defend myself; so, Bimpe went her way, barely three years as Mrs. Adebanjo.

During my tour of many cities and towns as Organising Secretary, I ran into a lot of women. And in Ibadan, I met an attractive and very neat lady, Aduke (a relation of Mr. J. A. Akinlotan, the party’s Financial Secretary) who had come on a visit to her uncle. We began as friends, and later lovers. In no time, she became pregnant. Adeseye, another girl, was born in 1956. However, the relationship with Aduke ended by the time I left for England.

TO BE CONTINUED TOMORROW.

READ ALSO: Afenifere honours late Pa Adebanjo with public symposium