HOOKED ON GCI

In 1971, when I was about to sit for the common entrance examination in Lagos, I applied to:
1.King’s College Lagos
2.Igbobi College Lagos
3.Government College Ibadan
I was invited for the interviews of all three, but when I went to Ibadan, I got hooked on GCI.
I arrived by air, accompanied by my tutor, Mr. Leye Akinola, a University of Ibadan student doing a vacation job at Dunlop Industries, where my old man, a chartered accountant, was the Buying Manager.
The three-day interview left such a lasting impression on me that I decided immediately on continuing my education there.
Unlike King’s College Lagos, which was squeezed into Central Lagos, Government College was spread out over hundreds of hectares in the suburbs of Ibadan. It was my first time away from parental supervision, and was just like a summer camp. For a London and Lagos-bred boy, it was a truly liberating experience. I had never felt so free!
The exotic location and an early friendship established with a charismatic 11-year-old Seun Mabogunje, who shared his box of chocolates with me, with a promise to send me some more, sealed the deal for me. I told Uncle Leye, who went on to become a senior executive in charge of the Nigerian Airways offices in Rome, I was going to attend GCI if I was accepted.
In January 1972, when I showed up at Carr House for my first term in school, I quickly realized I had been thrown in the deep end. My baptism of fire came at the hands of a brilliant scar-faced senior with unkempt hair, Femi H.. He was a big lug of a guy nicknamed Broken Bottle, who would shuffle around the house grounds in trainers he always wore like slippers.
“Bro” demanded I hand over my meat pie, and when I refused, ordered me to kneel down on the lawn with it in my mouth, but under no circumstances was I to take a bite from it. What followed was an incredibly challenging year of victimization at the hands of a pair of refugees from Benin, Abu I., and his yellow sidekick, Tony E.. They latched on to me and wouldn’t let go. It was brutal hazing where I was always ordered to go and get them cornflakes at pain of kneeling down next to their beds, sometimes all night, with a box of books raised above my head. They figured me for an Aje Butter, so they reckoned I had an inexhaustible supply of provisions from my folks in Lagos.

Abu doubled up his mattress with my own, while I spent most of the year, especially the freezing Apata Ganga harmattan, sleeping on cold springs. I suffered terribly at the hands of that reptilian duo, but those bullies never broke me.
I arrived GCI a Mama’s boy. At home, I couldn’t eat fish without first having its bones picked out by my mother, and at night, they had to leave the door to my bedroom open so I could see the reflection of the lights from the passage or I couldn’t sleep. A lantern also had to be placed just outside my doorway, just incase there was a power outage.
By the time I went back home after a year at GCI, I couldn’t sleep with any lights on, and I ate my fish whole, bones and all.
Carr House became my second home. In Form One, I was assigned a Form 4 student, Omoregie Eke, as “School Teacher”. My Teur was a lanky, light skinned Edo guy, as gentle as he was brilliant; he would later pass school cert with distinction, the only one of three in his set in GCI.
Omoregie never bullied me. He once greeted me, and I replied “ezz”. Shocked, he asked me what I just said. I told him I had just acknowledged his greeting. He laughed good naturedly, and explained that “ezz” was in fact a rude reply to a joke. I was lucky to get off so lightly. Most seniors would smack a junior upside the head, for lesser infractions in those days.
Carr House had by far the best students in the whole of Government College Ibadan. In my Class, there were Olanrewaju Amos and Aiyesimoju, both of whom, in Form 5, were the only two who had distinctions in the class of 1972. Aiyesimoju, who later left Carr House for Powell House, was the most playful smart guy I ever met. He would spend hours in old SWANSTON House playing Table Tennis using asbestos bats with junior boys. The Usi Ekiti boy was so small in size that he blended in with them perfectly.
Amos, who belonged to my House family, was a more serious student. He was, however, no swot (nerd), and in fact was far away the best Table Tennis player in our region. He was also a Chess grandmaster.
In Carr House Form One, perhaps the students I found nearest to my personality were Amos and Folabi Ogunlesi. Being a Lagos boy, I had no former primary schoolmates to move with, so I befriended Ogun and even went home with him once or twice, where I met his junior brother, a bright friendly kid. Soma was too intimidating for me to hang out with. Apart from my father, he was the only genius I ever knew personally.
GCI was an elite school, made up of many brilliant students. Olanrewaju Amos was, however, on a higher plane than the rest of us. Physics, Chemistry, Biology, Mathematics, Additional Mathematics, Agricultural Science, Geography - he always came out on top. The intelligent boys would score averages of 70% in exams. Amos, invariably came out in the middle to upper 90 percentiles. The philosopher Aristotle described genius as more than an occasional attribute, but something that must be displayed all the time. By that measure Amos was a true genius. He never had an off day. It was preternatural!
During our Mock School Cert I got the best score I had ever made in Additional Mathematics, 69%. Amos scored 99%. That helped me keep my grade in perspective. Aiyesimoju, was the only one who ran Amos pretty close back then, but in my eyes he was too playful for me to take seriously. The always neatly dressed Chess whizz Soma, was a better role model. In an ironic twist of fate, Aiyesimoju, whom I gave the nickname Mela, beat Soma in School Cert, making an aggregate 7 distinction to Soma's 9.

Culled From: Our story (1972 Set Anniversary book)
Submitted By: B. OSHIN (SN 2490, Carr House)