Once Upon a Time in Lagos: Episode 10

 

As we left his house and drove through a little town two policemen signaled us to stop. We did, and they flashed their torches on us. 

“Sorry about this, Chief Tunde,” they said when they found who he was. “We’ve got instructions to look out for a Peugeot 404 car,  and the description’s like yours.”

“No problem, officers,” he replied, while I thanked God for the strange ways I had been brought to safety. After that he remained silent, for his mind began to think heavily about his coming speech. I could see his lips muttering and I began to prepare myself for second challenge, which may be catastrophic. I tried to think of something to say myself, but my mind was completely blank. Soon we pulled up outside the door of a hall whose name was written in bold as Odudua Hall, and we were welcomed my some noisy gentlemen, who I believe, were politicians.

The Odudua Hall had about six hundred people in it, women mostly, a lot of bald heads, and about two dozen young men. The chairman of the occasion, who they called Chief Dayo, lamented Chief Rotimi Williams’ absence, soliloquized on his illness, and introduced me as an ‘illustrious son of Nigeria who was born in America and  is a trusted advocate of free education.’ There were two policemen at the door, and I hoped they took note of Chief Dayo’s testimonial about me. Then Chief Tunde started.

To my greatest surprise, his speech was good. But he was really nervous. He had a pile of notes from which he read, and when he let go of them he fell into one prolonged stutter. Every now and then he remembered a slogan he had learned by heart, straightened his back, and gave it off like Martin Luther King Jr, and the next moment he was bent double and crooning over his papers. It was a very patriotic speech too. He talked about how Nigerian unity can be guaranteed through social reforms that will eradicate corruption and nepotism and provide free education, quality health care and other things that will enhance the citizen’s quality of life. He was all for civil service reforms, and was totally against the regionalization of Nigeria’s civil service – a practice that had created a lot of distrust among the various ethnic groups in Nigeria. He noted that every Nigerian – whether Hausa, Yoruba, Ibo, Tiv, Itsekiri, and others – should have the right to live, work or do business in any part of the country without fearing intimidation or molestation due to their ethnicity. He also noted that, but for corruption, nepotism, and regionalization of civil service, even the Ibos and the Hausas who had always distrusted each other so much would see themselves as brothers and sisters, - as Nigerians - and not as Hausas or Ibos.  He said that the current state of affairs had created lots of tensions in Nigeria, and that even the Nigerian armed forces, who should be more disciplined and patriotic, are equally becoming polluted with corruption  and cronyism in their domain. It’s only a matter of time before the country explodes. He will work to stop this from happening if he was elected as his local government area’s Chairman, by working with people at grassroots level.

I must say that I loved his speech. You could see his niceness shinning out behind the piles of paper he was carrying in front of him. Also, it took a load off my mind: I may not be an orator, but I was convinced I was more than a hundred percent better than Chief Tunde.

I was convinced I did well when it came to my turn. I simply told them all I knew about free education and how it could turn Nigeria into a great nation. I doubt if I remembered to mention how free education programs was implemented in America, but I said that with free education Nigeria could train professionals who would even out-compete the West in terms of technology, healthcare, and so on. That fetched a cheer, and I woke them up a bit when I started in to tell them a list of more things that they and their families, as well as their constituencies will gain if they really put their backs into free education.

Even though I was convinced that my speech was a success, I somehow noticed that Chief Dayo was not that impressed. When he proposed a vote of thanks, he spoke of Chief Tunde’s speech as “statesmanlike” and mine as “very rhetorical.”

When we were in the car again Chief Tunde was very excited about having got his assignment over. “A very good speech you made there, Jideofor,” he said. “Would you mind coming home with me? As you can see, I am single – well, actually I’m a widower. And if you’ll stay a day or two, I will show you around the town.”

We had a hot supper comprising of garri and egusi soup – a meal I had wanted pretty badly. After that we drank red wine while sitting  in his parlor. I told myself that this is my  moment to put my cards on the table. I saw by Chief Tunde’s eyes that he was the kind of man you can trust.

“Listen, Chief Tunde,” I said. “I want to tell you some important things about me. I’m going to be frank because you are really a good man. Where did you get information about the things you talked tonight?”

His face brightened. “So it was good, eh?” he said, smiling. “I got most of it from the opinion columns of various newspapers and some pamphlets that Gbenga keeps sending me. But you surely don’t think Nigeria’s corruption and cronyism can be eradicated?”

“Ask that question in eight weeks and you will have a disappointing answer,” I said. “I’m going to tell you a very scary story if you have about thirty-minutes to spare.”

“Sure, of course,” he replied.

I can see very clearly the bright room as well as the pictures on the wall, with Chief Tunde relaxing on one of the sofas, and myself lying back in an armchair, speaking. My voice sounded like that of another person, standing aside, listening to myself  and judging carefully how believable my tale of woes sounds. It was the first time I had ever told anyone, apart from Mr. Akin, the exact truth, so far as I understood it, and I was glad I did, for it cleared my mind. I left no detail behind. I told him all about Mr. Reddington, the newspaper vendor, Mr. Reddington’s diary and my doings in Sagamu area. He was both surprised and excited, and he walked back and fort the parlor.

“So you see, Chief Tunde,” I concluded, “you have got here in your house the man that is wanted for the Victoria Island murder. As a good citizen, you are obliged to surrender me to the police. But I don’t think I will get very far if you do that. There will either be some sort of accident in which I won’t survive from, or I would end up being stabbed in my chest an hour or so after my arrest. In spite of that, you still have the duty to turn me in. So, what are you going to do now?”

He was looking at me with surprised steady eyes. “What was your occupation here in Nigeria, Mr. Okorie?”

“I am a doctoral student majoring in public health,” I replied. “And I am conducting a malaria research in Nigeria, the outcome of which I will publish in scientific papers.”

“A very interesting job, right?” he asked.

“Yes,” I replied.

He smiled, and then said, “I believe your story and I don’t want any proof of it. You don’t seem like a murderer to me. You are too smart for that. I’m going to back you up. Now, what do you want from me?”

I was so relieved.

“First, I want you to contact your uncle, Chief Adedibu. I need to get in touch with either the American Embassy or the Prime Minister’s office sometime before January 15.”

He pulled his moustache, and then said, “That won’t help you. First of all, right now you are a man wanted by the police for murder and it will be very hard to make your story stick. Everyone will be thinking that you are only trying to get out of trouble by inventing all sorts of lies. For the same reason my uncle will never believe you and trying to convince him would be like selling meat pies at a vegetarians’ convention, you know. This is what I’m going to do. I will contact  the Secretary to the Western Region Government. He’s my godfather and he would listen to me. He is highly connected to the Nigeria’s Foreign Affairs Ministry, as well as with the U.S.  State Department guys. So, tell me what you want me to say to him.”

We sat down at the dinning room table and he wrote my dictation. The gist of it was that if a man called Patterson(I don’t know why I chose that name, but I  thought I had better stick to it) turned up before January 15 he was to welcome him with open arms. He said Mr. Patterson would prove his bona fides by passing the word ‘Code 777’ or by mumbling  ‘Power to the Action Group.’

“Very good,” he said. “I will tell him I will explain later. By the way, you’ll find my godfather – his name is Chief Aderemi – down at his white mansion in the village, which is not too far from here. Don’t worry, I will show you how to get there. He loves the village and he lives there but works in the city.  One of the good things about having a car, right? He even built  landline wires and poles from the city to his house so he could use a telephone while he’s in the village. I call that a waste of money, but no one can tell the rich how to live. Anyway, tell me the next thing to do for you.”

“You and I are almost the same height,” I said. “Would you mind lending me one of your clothes? Anything will do, so long as it’s something that is traditional Yoruba style, you know – since it will be very different from the clothes I destroyed this afternoon and hence will make it hard for my enemies to recognize me. Then show me the map of this area and explain to me the lie of the land and how I would locate your uncle’s house. Lastly, if the police come looking for me, just show them the Peugeot 404 saloon car in the narrow valley. I’m assuming that you already know what to tell my pursuers if they ever turn up?”

“Leave that to me,” he said.

After he showed me the map of the area and explained to me how and where to locate his uncle, I shaved, took a shower and got ready for bed. The map of Southwestern region that he gave me made me understand my whereabouts, and showed me the two things I wanted to know – where the main railway line back to Lagos can be joined and what were the widest towns and villages nearby. These towns and villages has names that I could not pronounce properly. Some of them include Offin, Itunshokun, Sabo, Ajaka and Isale-Oko, among others.  I also learned from the map that Shagamu is a major market center of the Ijebu-Remo kingdom – one of the kingdoms in Yoruba land. Shagamu later declined in importance in 1892 after the British (the area’s colonial masters) destroyed the Ijebu trade monopoly and after they built the railway from Lagos to Abeokuta – a neighboring town to Shagamu.  Despite the fact that it was mainly rural at the time, Shagamu later regained some of its old significance as a trade center in 1953 after the completion of the Lagos-Shagamu-Ibadan road in 1953 and the opening of a new road to another town known as Benin-City in 1964. What an interesting piece of history, I thought.

At two o’clock he woke me up and led me blinking into the moon-lit night. He brought out an old Phoenix bicycle  from his toolshed and handed it over to me.

“Try and avoid the main roads by all means,” he said. “Just follow the pathways that cut through the forests that I have already explained to you. Believe me, the only people you may encounter this early are the village’s palm-wine tappers going to get down their calabashes from the palm trees and a few late night hunters. Just say ‘E ku aaro’, which means ‘good morning’, to them and continue your journey. They won’t border you at all. By daybreak you’ll be well into the hills that I described to you. Don’t forget that my godfather’s village and house is nearby when you get there. Just dump the bicycle when you get there and continue on foot, for the terrain through the forests there will be difficult to ride on anyway. It will be a long distance walk, but you will recognize my godfather’s house when you see it. Be safe, my good friend.”

I pedaled diligently up the steep pathways of the hill and as the morning mist cleared before the sun, I found myself in a wide forest with valleys falling on every side and a far-away blue horizon. In my mind I was craving for any news of my enemies but, unfortunately, I would not get such news from my current location.

 

 

 

END OF EPISODE 10

P.S. Stay tuned for Episode 11, which  will be published here next Sunday.