SEVEN TALES

Suspension “For What?”
A Cricket game was scheduled for Ikeja cricket ground, near A the Ikeja Golf Club, Lagos on a Saturday afternoon. The cricket team, along with the supporters’ club, left Ibadan and arrived on time. Having waited for long, the expected team didn’t show up and were worked over. I quickly seized the opportunity to dash home at Akoka, Yaba for a meal of lyan and Efo Riro with Egusi. By the time I got back to the playground around 5pm, the school truck was ready to leave, but had to wait for some of us, which led to the cancellation of the trip back to Ibadan. Our names were taken down for disrupting the journey and punishment at the assembly on Monday.
The principal, Mr. Olafimihan “The Bull”, dealt us with all forms of punishment; from caning, grass cutting, kneeling down, crawling on our knees and finally a two week’ suspension. I chose an option not to go home, that would result in a greater punishment from mum. I stayed back in school, the Grier-Field old dining hall roof “Hosanna” for two weeks. I wouldn’t like to bore you with my feelings and reaction when the announcement was relayed, it was with immediate effect. My plans were well arranged, I acted immediately and got in touch with the school kitchen for my meals. During this period my meals were subsidized by another contact at Apata, where I bought moin-moin and akara in the late evenings. I carefully kept out of everyone’s way who could put me in more trouble, I was very watchful. All contacts were well informed on the activities of the suspension.
A plan had to come up with regards to getting back to school once the two weeks’ period was over. The akara and moin-moin seller was my saving grace. She was a stark illiterate who couldn’t write or explain in English except Yoruba language with Ibadan dialect in pronunciation. She followed me to school on the resumption day and met with the Principal Mr. Olafimihan “De Bull”. She explained to the principal as my guardian, that my parents were out of the country at that moment in time. Within ten minutes I was back into school after she thumb printed.

A question I wish I could ask the Principal Mr. Olafimihan, but had no courage to, out of respect and fear – “Suspension for what?” I remember a classmate who came with his parents, didn’t find it easy like I did. He faced the full wrath of the principal’s expression of anger.

Maize from School Farm
There were two school farms. One was situated on the road to Dele’s village behind Field House, directly behind Mr. Popoola’s residence, a member of staff also referred to as “Poppy!” The farm size was about an acre. The second farm was situated on dual road, on entering the school after the woodwork shop, on the same side as a banana plantation, about three acres in size. Crops planted on the first farm were usually maize and yam (intercropped) around the rainy season. It was a farm where students had a portion to work on during the term and were awarded marks.
It was an act for students to make sure they reap the fruits of their labour. During the harvest period, the farm was infested with different pests, rodents, insects, birds, and even humans, mainly students. Students would cart away farm produce in bags to cook or roast. Cooking utensils used by students were metal or iron buckets, boiling ring etc. It was always a delight to enjoy these illegal harvests. Until.....
On this fateful day, a good number of us came back to the locker room with our harvests where we all ended up cooking the maize in buckets filled with water using the boiling ring. There was a heavy bookshelf, which we moved behind the double door as a barricade to keep off intruders (maha). With the door well secured, we waited for about 30 minutes for the maize to become a cooked corn on the cob.
There was a double bunk bed, which I strategically drew under the ceiling fan with some empty plastic buckets to contain the corn. The fan was switched on to its highest speed to enhance the cooling of the corn on cob. The easiest way to know if a corn was ready for consumption was the aroma being let off into the air. In the immediate surroundings, attention would be drawn to the cooking. With all arrangements in place, we were surely prepared for those who lay in wait for such moments of the aroma.
But the unexpected and unimaginable happened. The heavy, giant bookshelf and locker, used to fortify and act as a barrier and backup for the closed double door, gave way. The moment I saw all this act coming my next plan was an escape route with the plastic bucket of corn. So I quickly grabbed the bucket of corn in cob, cooking under the fan on the double bunk. Behold the unthinkable happened, I felt something hit my forehead. I felt a deep pain and I looked above and saw the fan come to an abrupt halt. The locker came crashing down, I headed for the open door. Everybody at the entrance made an immediate turnaround. I held my hand to my forehead and blood was dripping from my face to my chest and shirt. It was horrific, people were screaming, there was commotion.
Toilet roll and towel were wrapped around my head. I remember the House master showing up. I was rushed to the dispensary for first aid and off to Adeoyo General Hospital off Ring Road, where I had seventeen stitches on my forehead. I had my head bandaged for about a month to complete the healing.

The Grier/Field Block Combat
It was the last day of the last term of our Form One; we had just completed our examination and had a lot of free time. No more night prep (7pm to 9pm). We chose to occupy this period by having a “Combat” game. Combat was a Television programme watched in those days featuring Vic Morrow, Rick Jason etc in a US platoon FIGHTING ITS WAY ACROSS Europe during World War 2.
But in December 1972 at GCI, the venue of our own “Combat” was the Grier/Field Block. We had two opposing sides simulating a battle incidence and holding an attack and shoot out like the “Combat” war programme. In our own fake “Combat” we had hide and seek tactics and running all over with noise of shooting guns with our mouth and faking injury of being shot and hurt.
This event was between the Grier and Field House boys, focused around the Grier – Field Block. Not all form one boys participated. There was an accident, some thought it was fake, but ended up real. I was taken to Room One, Field House for a first Aid treatment by some senior boys. Obviously, I became a specimen (at that level) for biology, when my arm was tied up with a piece of clothing and ruler to try and straighten it out.
I was immediately taken to the School Dispensary under the care of Mr. Oloko, the dispenser. That night I was transferred to the Adeoyo General Hospital, off Ring Road. My arm was in “Plaster of Paris” (POP) most of the Christmas holiday. The POP was removed a week before resumption 1973 for the new term.
That Woodwork Master
Mr Olusanya was our Woodwork Master and woodwork was a subject that involved physical and technical abilities. Woodwork was always in the last period 1:00pm to 1:45pm on Friday. Mr Olusanya had this unique character for perfection and was determined to make carpenters out of us. He had the act of emphasising his words which left us fidgeting and provided material for side gossips. He was a disciplinarian, who brooked no nonsense. One day, Opeke who was a class ahead of us had a brush with him. Opeke had a slightly compressed nose, which made his nose twitch (Reflex Action). This act of twitching was noticed by Mr. Olusanya during a class and the following dialogue followed:
Mr. Olusanya: Opeke! Opeke!! Opeke!!!
Emi n’soro, iwo yin mu (While I’m talking, you are twitching your nose).
Mr. Olusanya:Latti, Latti, Latti (his assistant)!
Get me a cane, ma na e, Baba a wa se thank you fun mi (By the time I finish caning you, your father would thank me).
I remember Opeke’s father then was the Head of Cocoa Research Institute in the then Mid-Western State. There was no way he would come to thank him for caning Opeke. (Olu Opeke passed on April 2020 – May his soul rest in peace).

That Woodwork Master Again
Woodwork Master Mr Olusanya soliloquizing:
Mo nlo si Abeokuta lati Ibadan
Ninu motor mi
Obirin birin fe overtake me
Mo ju di fun
O wo gbo lo

Translation:

I was driving to Abeokuta from Ibadan
In my car
A female driver tried overtaking me
I nudged the car
Made her skid off the road (He said it casually).

Lawn Tennis Court Drama
(This was between Olagbegi and Ojurongbe). Both of them were Lawn Tennis players and were on a game. Ojurongbe was in Upper Six class, while Olagbegi was in Form Three. Olagbegi was winning and making jest of Ojurongbe by singing a song:
“Ogbon j’agbara”, which means: “Not by power but tactics” Ojurongbe crossed over the Tennis court at the mid court to deal physically with Olagbegi.

Social Nights
Pillow fight was one of the main events which took place during social nights. On Saturdays, the house programme was laid out. On the social night, which was immediately after supper, we all reported to the prep room. The prep room had been rearranged from its usual Sunday to Friday look. All tables and benches were moved to the walls, with the benches arranged round in a “ring like” form for the spectators to sit and face the inner bowl of the room for action. Activities for the night included:
Arm wrestling – which was usually between two powerful guys seated on chairs and their elbows resting on the table. The rule was that if you raised your elbow from the table, you were disqualified. The idea was to force down the back of your opponent’s hand to the table.
Tug of war – involved two groups of six or more people in each group, with a line drawn on the ground. The aim of the game was to drag the opposing team across the dividing line.
Alternative chair game- was accompanied by background music and a number of persons circling around the alternatively arranged chairs. Number of chairs was one less number of persons. At the stop of the music, everyone must be seated, anyone standing was evicted along with a chair. It continues till the last person who was declared the winner.
Pillow Fight – was usually between two contending opponents, similar to boxing within a ring. But pillows were used rather than boxing gloves. Fight ensued until one quits, knocked out or declared winner on points. Pillows were selected randomly from various rooms and beds. A heavy and hard pillow was the best selection for the event.
On this particular night the event took a diverse act. Every knock from this particular pillow had a devastating effect on the opponent as it made him stagger and dizzy and provided an advantage on points. The fight was at its full swing with everyone fully engrossed in the action. The wave of pillow for an expected technical knockout was foiled when the unexpected happened. Suddenly dust of “gari” filled a part of the room.
Beheld, the pillow was packed with gari which created the hardened effect and portable size for easy and effective landing on target. Out of the crowd of spectators came a Form One boy (nicknamed “Chisel”) shouting at the top of his voice, “my pillow!!! My pillow!!! My Gari!!! My Gari!!!”.
He was escorted out of the Arena for him to confirm his ownership of the pillow. It would have been a forgotten issue if he had remained anonymous, but the fact that he never admitted having garri to his senior landed him in trouble. He had no pillow for the rest of the term.


Culled From: Our story (1972 Set Anniversary book)
Submitted By: DIPO AKINYEMI (SN 2429, Field House)