‘ It Was Indeed At The Home Of Chief Obafemi Awolowo
me back home. So, instead of helping him, he was the one doing everything like a father to me. That is why I owed him so much for helping me to get off my feet in life.
You grew up in a polygamous setting and you had a good story about it. But now, it’s like a crime. Nowadays, we abhor polygamy, only for us to be talking of samesex marriage and other vices. How would you look at both scenario?
Actually, what happened was that for my father, it was important that he became a polygamist because he had a big farm like about five miles by four miles; vast area and he had all sorts of crops — cocoa, oil palm, cotton and so on. So, he needed helping hands and he discovered that if he brought these people who didn’t share the ownership of the farm with him, they could be difficult members of his team. He therefore married the women, put some in charge of palm oil, others in charge of cocoa production, or cocoa marketing, and some in charge of cotton. My father became very wealthy and he was among the richest in my town. He had the transport service called Omolewa Transport Service, a Bedford lorry that plied Ipoti to Ibadan to Ikole and back. You also know once you are wealthy, people would want to associate with you, so, many people approached him and some donated women to him for marriage.
Everything has changed in modern times, many of the reasons to marry many wives are no longer there, the setting for running a polygamous home has also changed. It is inconvenient now to have multiple wives.
Perhaps, I should add that I had Divine intervention in my life very early. By Divine providence I followed a friend of my father, Pastor S A Dare to live in Erunmu where I continued with my primary school. Later, Pastor Dare was posted to Ibadan. In the meantime, my brother Joseph had returned from his training and had been posted back to Ibadan. I had to go back and live with my brother. Things were not rosy at the time: we had garri in different forms of soaking, making eba and selfdeclared garri cake every day.
After my primary school education, I decided to look for job as a Messenger so that I could earn some money to eat better than what my brother could afford at the time.
One day, I went to the Ministers’ Quarters in Iyanganku, Ibadan to the residence of the Minister of Education, Stephen Oluwole Awokoya. I had written an application along the lines we’re taught at school, “Dear sir, I beg to apply for the post of a messenger in your establishment. I promise you I will be loyal. Yours faithfully, Michael Omolewa.” I gave the letter to the secretary of the Minister whom I begged to give the letter urgently to the Minister. That time, if you wrote to a Minister, there would be a response in the post within three days. After the fourth day, when there was no response, I decided to go back to the Minister. On arrival at his residence, I told the Secretary that I wanted to meet the Minster. The secretary told me to go in and see him. When I knocked at the door, the Minister said, ‘ Come in’, when the Minister saw me, he jumped up and wanted to escape through the back window because of my small stature as I was only three and half feet tall at the time. I was like a sigidi. In those days, political opponents used to send sigidi to one another to terminate the lives of the opponents. When I responded “Good morning sir”, the Minister was pleased because the sigidi does not talk. He relaxed and asked me who I was.
I told him that “My name is Michael Omolewa. I wrote an application to you four days ago and I have since been expecting a reply. I decided to come and ask you what has happened to the letter sir.” The Minister started laughing and asked what I wrote in my letter. I said ‘ I applied to be a messenger, sir ’. He looked at me, and said, “I cannot employ you, I am the Minister of Education; I am not in charge of employment or recruitment. There is a Minister of Employment. I probably sent your letter to that person’. I then brought out my Primary School Leaving Certificate and told him that I had distinction in all my examination subjects. I added that I desperately need a job to survive. The Minister started laughing again and said,
‘ my boy, see me on March 4 in my office and not at my residence’. I said ok sir and left. I started counting the days to March 4 and calculating my first salary, when I would be able to add ewedu to support my eba and hopefully also add fish or meat.
On March 4, I woke up very early to walk to the secretariat in Agodi from Oke Bola. When I got to the secretariat, I was still rejoicing at the prospect of becoming a Messenger. When I knocked the door to the office of the Minister, the secretary said ‘ who are you’?, I entered and said “I am Michael Omolewa sir, I have an appointment with the Minister of Education this morning.” He said ‘ if you don’t go out of this office, I will throw you out of the window. He added ‘ you this urchins, useless boys, you roam streets and offices instead of going to school’ but I kept explaining myself, and refusing to be intimidated. At that moment, the Minister walked in, he looked at both of us, went in without saying anything. The Secretary said that’s the Minister, I said I know. He then threatened to invite the security to come and throw me out. While he was still talking the Minister rang his bell, the secretary went in, then shortly after, he returned, and he asked me if I was Michael Omolewa. I said yes, sir. He then said please sit down. His countenance had changed and he was courteous. He offered me albums to look at, photographs and some newspapers. I was thinking of my job as messenger and my first salary.
A few minutes later, two white people came into the Minister’s office, and I was asked to come in. The Minister asked for my name again. He said ‘ what did you tell me when you came to my residence?’ I said I came to tell him that I had applied for a job as a Messenger. Then one of the Europeans asked, what is your hope for the future, I told him that I wanted the position of a messenger and that as a messenger, I would work with diligence and later get promoted to become a Clerk and that hopefully I would become a Chief Clerk and would buy a BSA motorcycle, the type that my Pastor in the Church rode. I thought that was the best that could happen to anybody. They said I should leave the office and wait outside. I was happy that I had gotten the job and I planned to buy pounded yam for my brother.
They now invited me in and said I should follow a man. I was happy because I thought the man was taking me to where I would start work as a Messenger. The man passed Oke Bola where I lived, I was happy that my place of work would be close to my house but the man drove straight to Ibadan Grammar School. There, we met the School in festive mood because Bishop Akinyele, the man of God who founded the school in March 1913 was visiting. His in- law, then Reverend Alayande was the Principal. The driver gave a letter to Reverend Alayande who then called the Vice Principal, Mr Charles, a Sierra Leonian, and whispered something to him. Mr. Charles asked me to follow him. I followed and went to the classroom. He said you are going to do an exam right now and I said okay. I wrote the exam and he marked it and gave the score to the Principal. Then, the principal called me to join him in the office. He then telephoned Chief Awokoya, and said ‘ Minister, we have set exam for the boy and he scored 100 percent’. The Minister told him to send me back to him. So, I went back to the Minister. I must confess that I thought that they would post me to the distant Ibadan Grammar School and I was protesting in my mind that I want the job very badly. When we returned to the office of the Minister, the secretary welcomed me very well and cheerfully. I was wondering about the magic touch given him by the Minister about me. When I met the Hon Minister, with the two Europeans with him, he said “Michael Omolewa, you will start school tomorrow at Ibadan Grammar School on the Western Nigeria Scholarship which will pay for your tuition and accommodation, and books and clothes and travel allowances.” I was speechless as I calculated all the payments and I discovered that they were going to be many times larger than the salary of a messenger. So, I went back home and told my brother that I am now a West Nigerian scholar.
The following day, I went to Ibadan Grammar School and started schooling. One of my teachers at the time was Uncle Bola Ige who taught us Latin and English. Bola Ige was the only teacher who didn’t cane us. So, we could come late to the class. Later in life, when Uncle Bola Ige became Governor of Oyo State, I was the Dean of my Faculty of Education in Ibadan. He wanted to introduce literacy to all citizens. He had gone to Cuba to learn how he could make everyone in Oyo State literate, to be able to read, write and do simple calculation. He however decided to postpone the projected launch to his second term in office, only to be voted out of office in a controversial election in 1983.
By the end of the second term at School, I was among the best ten students in the class although I came so late to School. My class teacher, Mr. Kuti- George, also from Sierra Leone wrote in my report: “evidence of good scholarship.” I was elected Secretary of the Rainbow Boys Club in the School, a club of mostly poorer students who gathered together to challenge the Young Boys Club of which the late Wole Awolowo was a member. It was indeed at the home of Chief Obafemi Awolowo that I had a meal with three pieces of meat. I asked Wole if there had been a mistake in the kitchen: “There is a mistake here o, three pieces of meat for one person.” Wole responded that he could tell the mummy to add more pieces of meat if the three pieces were not enough. I screamed. I was thinking in myself that one piece of meat would be torn to shred for all of us in my home, I now have three big ones to myself alone. At Ibadan Grammar School, I forgot my origins and joined “The Jungle Boys club” of which I was the secretary. If any of the students were fighting, you have to look for me to report and I will tell you what time we will meet in the jungle. At the jungle, all the jungle boys will be watching while the two of you fight it out. The one who loses will now go inside the jungle, as far as Molete, buy palm- wine and Itele ( cow leg) to give to us who have judged the fight. We would then drink the palm- wine and eat the itele as celebration. We would also play the Monopoly where I made sure that I had houses in Pall Mall and Wine before the ambition to buy some hotels at the Strand and Park Lane.
Later, my father decided to withdraw me from the School, saying that I needed to go to a School where there were challenges of life to be groomed and prepared for real living. That was how, with the help of my uncle Chief G. K. Dada, who was then a Member of Parliament, I ended up at Ekiti Parapo College, Ido- Ekiti. I got to the place no electricity, no water, the roads were bad.
What about the scholarship?
There is a saying that you are told that the Babalawo is burnt to ashes and you are asking for his beard. What was the first to go? The