The Day I Almost Died In An ‘Action Movie’ | By Olawale Sadare

Until mid 1980s, the Nigerian Army 2nd Mechanized Division was located where we now have the headquarters of Ibadan North East Local Government council. What used to be an Army barracks harboured offices, training grounds, shooting ranges, orchards and other military facilities including a Mammy market and Army Children’s Schools which I attended between 1982 and 1988 after I had been made to waste two years in some formal elementary schools.

For every pupil of that particular school in those days, the fear of a single military man (Sergeant Shittu) was the beginning of wisdom though it came to a point that he had to be supported by another discipline czar and flogging wizard (Sergeant Segun). The duo could instil discipline on a lifeless body as it were but trust school children, we would still beat them to it on several occasions as we would be found wanting in one way or the other. Our popular criminal offences included; coming late to school, overstaying on the soccer pitch after break time, wandering aimlessly around, entering swampy farmland close to BCOS (Ile-Akede) fence to harvest sugarcane which belonged to unknown farmers, engaging in fights with fellow pupils, disturbing the peace of the classrooms, being found in company of domestic thieves among other juvenile ‘crimes’.

I started a new life in School 1 (1982) and later School 12 (Afternoon session), School 6 and finally School 5. In all of this, I had the privilege of being taught by the best hands who included Mr. Babalola, Mrs Jegede, Mrs Akinwale, Mrs Sadare (not a relation), Mrs Ojo, Mrs Olayinka, Miss Hassan, Mr Aluko, Mrs Abolade, Mrs Olanrewaju, Mr Ayorinde, Mrs Osunkunle, Mrs Olagunju (our Quintessential Headmistress) and many others. There was a day my late cousin (Sade) found a new N20 note inside a gutter on our way to school and seven of us (including two aunties who became grannies long ago) shared from the largesse satisfactorily. Oh, Sade could discover lost money hidden beneath the lowest layer of soil or rock pedestal… May her gentle soul rest in peace.

It was about this time that two female teachers fought a colleague of theirs over me. It was getting to the end of the academic session and we must act the Jesus play. Mrs Olayinka (Mommy Gbenga) wanted a brilliant me to act Jesus but the other two teachers opposed her vehemently. “A Wasiu with tribal mark can never be our own Jesus Christ… It is not about being brilliant and smart please”, one of them had thundered. I ended up acting one of the three wise men who later delivered ‘Wura, Turari ati Ojia’ to the one they anointed to replace me after the first day practice which I did very well. Meanwhile, I can still recognize the two haters if I come across them tomorrow and I would not say more than this here. Lol.

Yes, how can I forget an amoeba-like female teacher whose main hobby was to fish out witches and possessed female pupils who she would parade around for several hundreds of people to identify and begin to ostracize them? How can I forget a day when pupil Dominic raped a female colleague and was caught in the act? How can I forget Ebenezer, Dare Adeonigbagbe and others from School 1 who would always lay claim to the good portion of the biggest soccer pitch? How can I forget a day when Baruwa broke the arm of Ade to show the then garrulous mates from School 1 that we in other Schools were no second class citizens? How can I forget the mad rush for Akara Iyadunni, Ice Kongi, Eekanna Asa, Eja Dindin, Tabataba? How can I forget that the whole of Oluyoro High School was relocated to a segment of our expansive school land and rechristened Army Barracks Grammar School in 1985?

Before the final relocation of the Nigerian Army 2nd Mechanized Division from Iwo Road to Odogbo, we the pupils of Army Children’s School used to feel like children of soldiers not only because we had classrooms and play fields inside the barracks but also due to the fact that the men in uniform would do anything to make us have care and discipline. However, wandering and loose movement around their offices and strategic was totally prohibited as only pupils whose dad or mom was a military man or civilian personnel could go near such places with proper identification. But I use to follow the like of Akibu Bello, Felix Sareowo, Samsideen Raji, Ezesobor Omoikhudu, Cliff Ejatewvho and few others who had access to the whole place since their parents were Officers and staff. Adamu and Shuaib were typical Barrack boys who used to take me along whenever they needed to visit their dad who was a soldier. The two brothers were Hausa and they were popular for some elementary physical magical displays as pupils.

Now the real gist here, Mrs Abolade was my class teacher at Primary 4 and she was an excellent woman who knew how to impart knowledge into her pupils. There were concrete structures arranged lane by lane with each building having two blocks of classrooms. By that time, most of these buildings had had some of their parts vandalized by some enfant terrible who were pupils of the same school. These devilish kids would not go home after school hour but stay back to do all sort of repugnant things. They destroyed wooden doors and windows, broke ceilings, dug holes on buildings and shattered the cemented floors of most of the classrooms.

The same set of mannerless children were also in the habit of forcing their way into any classroom and mess up the either the floor or pieces of furniture with faeces as it were. This became the case immediately soldiers were made to relocate from our school environment and all shades of acts of indiscipline began to raise their ugly heads among the school population and the neighboring communities.

Anytime we reported for class in a new day and teachers or pupils began to perceive obnoxious odour of faeces, we would have to clear the mess first before normal classwork would start. Boys would fetch water for girls to do the cleansing while teachers would stay away until the foul odours were totally gone. Rather than abate, the shameful development continued as some of us (pupils) later saw it as an opportunity to ‘escape academic work’. Sad enough, the ‘invisible’ culprits raised their game and took to climbing the ceilings to defecate. This posed a new challenge as only boys could make it into the ceilings to do the evacuation of faeces.

On a particular Thursday, we marched down into the classroom from the Assembly Ground only to be confronted with offensive smell. We embarked on a fruitless search to locate where the human waste products were deposited but we could not find anything in any of the lockers, desks and containers on the ground. Then, the two female teachers picked about seven good boys to move up into the ceilings and bring down the ‘substances’. With automatic alacrity, we found our way into the dark arena where there was insufficient fresh air to breathe in. We acted as expected by breaking the points where the mountains of faeces were deposited and those on ground started received same in batches. Those bad boys must have come in their threes or fours to perpetrate the evil act.

But rather than come down after we had got rid of the whole mess, we decided to stage an action movie. The seven of us began a hide-and-seek expedition inside the ceilings. Each one of us turned a gunman and started to shoot at each other by matching two fingers together, pointing same at one another and shoot to ‘kill’. One would shoot his ‘enemy’ and when the victim refused to show a sign of being hit by a ‘bullet’, the one who ‘pulled the trigger’ would say in hush tone; “mo ti pa e joor!” and other person would reply; “iro ni, emi ni mo koko yinbon fun e joor”. This ‘action movie’ continued for about five minutes and those on the ground floor didn’t know anything.

Going forward, I thought about what to do to become the ‘Actor’ who can never die in a film and I moved to the darkest part inside the ceilings. In the process of trying to hide at a safe ‘place’, I left the log path for an unsupported ceiling plate platform and before anyone could call ‘Jack’… the plate paved way and I fell from the roof top only to land on the five-step stair case at the entrance of our classroom. I came down heavily, landed on my head and hit my occiput on the sharp edge of a step. Confusion ensued in the whole school environment but I was able to get help immediately from some medics. All the films actors were asked to come with their parents but it was only me who didn’t bring anyone. They beat me until they got tired… Until about 12 years later, that part of my head would pose a medical challenge and this caused my mom a lot of stress. The scar is still feasible till tomorrow and if you like, look out for it whenever you meet me in town!

 

Wasiu Olawale Sadare, Journalist and Media Consultant writes from Ibadan, Oyo state