Nkrumah Bankong-Obi Jazzhole on Awolowo Road, Ikoyi, Lagos, is a perfect venue for any discussion bothering on the things of the mind. For certainty, apart from patrons of the bookshop, the only other uninvited guests likely to eavesdrop into discussions in the expansive arts centre are: books, compact discs, magazines, frescoes of varying sizes and perhaps a perfect collage of assorted beverage condiments for the refreshment pleasure of patrons who desire a drink. It was in this ambience that Chief Frank Aig-Imoukuede ensconced with a team from this magazine to share his life experiences, his foray into literary and general creative contributions to our national growth and his post-service activist disposition. At 80, you would have expected him to be frail. Memory should ordinarily have sunken and the power of recalling events totally blurred by the passage of time. But that is not the case with this statesman. As he sauntered into the bookshop, his gait was graceful, with the grey hair speaking much of the wisdom he has accumulated. [caption id="attachment_18673" align="aligncenter" width="300"] •Frank Aig-Imoukhuede[/caption] And for three hours, he betrayed every tinge of the fact that on 8 January, he turned 80. He sat throughout the interview session, recalling events and incidents with ease. His agility and clarity of speech could tempt one to think Pa Aig-Imoukhuede is perhaps just turning 60. The march to the top for this culture impresario was not always coated in sweetness. Indeed, his is the story of the triumph of perseverance over adversity. Born in 1935, he lost his dad just as he turned three. From then on, his mother took up the responsibility of his parentage. And this she discharged creditably, bequeathing to the nation, a man who, like a muster seed, has grown from little to become a forceful voice in Nigeria’s national life. Married to Mrs. Emily Aig-Imoukhuede, herself a historian and an active voice in the culture industry, they are blessed with high-achieving children, including Aigboje Aig-Imoukhuede, a prominent banker. His immediate siblings have also attained great heights in their chosen careers. Mrs. Mabel Segun epitomises the creativity that flows in the family. In politics, his extended family is represented, among others by Senator Liyel Imoke, Governor of Cross River State. Pa Imoukhuede, apart from his varied contributions to other aspects of culture, has written plays including; Munchi Charm, Alente Tatakumi, The Secret of the Rainbow. How would you describe your years of childhood? I had a mother who was very caring. I did not know my father but I had an idea of who he was because I once saw a giant (my father was a six-footer) rebuking my brother. Who was your brother? My brother is Ikpehi Aig-Imoukhuede, a renowned journalist. When you said you didn’t know your father, what exactly did you mean? He died? Yes. He died when I was three years old. There were certain impressions that I had of him. He was an assistant scout master-general for Nigeria and started the first Oyo troop. A lot of scouting events and activities happened around him. He was also a Reverend. That was why I knew at the age of three, those scout songs. My mother also confirmed his involvement with the scout later on. I saw the boys scout carry him round in a cycle and I knew him through those things and my reflections of him as a tall being. I had to keep moving with my mum. So, If you see me have a particular approach to women, I think you should trace it to my mum whom I was so much used to. Through her, I cultivated the respect for women and hard work; she was very hard working. She was born in 1907; her husband died in 1938 and she had five children. What were the names of these children? The first one was Juliana Ebun. She was the first child; she worked as a librarian in the United States Information Service (USIS). The next one, who died, was a boy. He was followed by Mabel Segun who was followed by Ikpehi Aig-Imoukhuede, who was at The Times and worked in the Ministry and was the press attache; then me, followed by my younger brother, who I saw one moment and the next moment he was dead. He was playing in the rain and suddenly caught pneumonia. My younger brother died shortly after my father died. And I had to go with my mum. One day he (my father) went to school with a wrapper round his neck and said he wanted to go to school. Fortunately, someone from outside the area intervened on his behalf, and that was how he started going to school. He also played cricket and was at a training school where he was selected for catechical training because somebody had failed on the way. They were looking for someone to complete that set and someone said call that young man there! They called him and he joined them in the second year and still topped class. My father also taught in one or two places, started a school in Urhoboland and then went to Ondo where he worked with the Vicar as a head master. The superintendent for the area was the man who became Bishop S.E. Philips and he wrote a primer for the school in Ora. He also had a hymn book in my language and started among other things, the first large farm in the area which was 32 acres. He was a clergyman and a member of the synod. There was just one synod of 29 members including four bishops. Among the other people in the Synod board were: Erika Moore, Venerable Philips, Dalemo, Dr. Oluwole, and others. He was coming from the interior to preach in Lagos and also preached in the cathedral. We knew about white people a long time ago in my family. My mother had a lot of things which were ordered from abroad. The family at home sent a message that she should bring the children, but she said no. That was why I attended so many schools before going to secondary school; I went to school in Oshogbo, Edunabon, just a few miles from Ile Ife and Modakeke near Ife. I also went to school twice in Osogbo. Among the friends of my father I lived with was Mr. Akinyemi, Bolaji Akinyemi’s father. I think Bolaji was born the year I went to live there because there was the cry of the child all the time. There, I experienced a lot of things. The Orisha devotees often came into the river to wash and they would leave cowries and coins in the water. We could see the bottom of the stream, and often went to pick some of these things, but we had to hide them. That was where I had my first experience of the clash between tradition and Christianity. In the night you heard a loud cry. ‘‘I no bi thief o! I no bi thief o! etc. That was the resident’s cook in the hands of the vigilante hunters. For a long time, on the way to school, we saw them. Somebody dashed to the back of your house there was the parlour and the kitchen. The villagers would dash in to escape from the CID that came from Ibadan. The man who was the leader was a tall handsome man with a beard. But by the time they were finished, he had no beard, and his jaw was swollen because they were pulling his beard as they questioned him. I also saw the masquerades in Osogbo that time. Then I went to school in Lagos. I lived with my relations and I knew what Shadare street looked like that time in 1942. In 1943 I ended up in Ila. In Ila, I went to school first in the Native Authority, NA practising school, which was in the administrative section very near the palace. That was where we also lived. I was part of the children’s masquerade. We watched the annual festival and that was why I knew about things like eunuchs in the palace, and young Oloris. That’s where I knew some of the architecture, some of the artistic carvings. Some of the biggest carvings were in wood, like Elempe, Adamude. I knew the palace inside out. A kind soul was on the throne at that time. A handsome black man. Even after becoming king, he was a very quiet, soft spoken man. He reigned in 1943. There, I also knew about the bell that rang around noon time. One of the queens rang the bell and she must not meet you on the way. When I got to Lagos, I was familiar with the museum; I was going there in 1947. I went to the library which was not for away from the museum. All those areas I went to, I saw these same things that I grew up with in the palace in Ila. They were already there. Then I moved from the Native Authority, N/A practising school to St. Mathews which was owned by the Anglican. There, an old catechist used to upbraid one of the boys that he didn’t know anything about his culture. We lived at that time, with an old catchiest, Pa Obadina who did herbal medicine, knew all the songs; including the ones by Olorisha. He did some type of herbal Vaseline. I learnt a few things from him. He also played tricks on us. He would say “can you tell me the person that is coming to the compound? He would describe the person and the person would come exactly as he said. It was later on we knew that he had a mirror he set somewhere that he was using. We were interested in worms or ekulu. That was why we ended up with scratches on our bodies. In Ekperin, the catechist was Ladipo, Duro Ladipo’s father. That was where we knew each other. My mother was teaching the women stuff relating to home economics in the church, showing them how to cook and care for the home. Was this teaching by your mother the reason for your movement from one school to the other? My mother was a trader. She learnt how to sell things; she went as far as Kano. She was itinerant. I would stay with people while she travelled. But she was still part of the place, because when she came back, she took part in the activities of the community. How were you prepared for your entrance examination into Igbobi College? I took my first entrance exams in 1945; that was at the age of 10. But I did not think it was any big deal. It was when it was getting a bit too late that I realised that I had to go to secondary school the following year, otherwise I would have been stranded. What happened was that I had to go to so many schools to go through this same process and I was still able to make it. Sometimes I went to two schools within the same town. I went to St. David’s Lafiaji, from there, I went back to Osogbo, tried my first entrance exams. What was responsible for your movement to St. Davids then back to Osogbo? Yes, I had to go with my mum. My mother came at about the time I came out of the hospital. She insisted on taking me with her. What was the nature of the illness? Pneumonia. In Osogbo, I took the entrance exams. She took me with her to Ilesa, and I went to St. Johns. At the end of the year, she took me to Lagos. By this time, my sister had returned from abroad. That was Juliana. She was well-known and appeared in the Pilot newspapers at that time. They knew when she passed out of secondary school, because she was in grade one. They knew when she went abroad and they knew when she came back. They put it there; “Aig-Imoukhuede arrives” when she came back in 1947. From Ilesa, I came to Lagos, started in a new school, Yaba Model. From there, I went to the school which my sister was familiar with. That was near the cathedral which was opposite her own school where she was teaching (CMS Anglican Girls School). Was it your sister who encouraged you to go to Igbobi College? No. How did you come about that choice? The school that we always wanted was Kings College. That was what we knew about. There was CMS Grammar School behind us, Methodist Boys High School was down the road; those were the two schools apart from Kings College. It was in Lagos that I knew that if you wanted to go to King’s College, you had to be more serious. Also, it turned out that Igbobi was there and had a reputation. So, I opted for Igbobi. My brother was already there, he got in there in 1947. Later on I confirmed that K.O. Mbadiwe was an Igbobian, Lambo was an Igbobian, Will you say your years in Igbobi-College were very significant? You may also add my time at the Cathedral because I had a teacher, he didn’t teach me but he caned some people and caned some people again at Igbobi. Igbobi is a combination of Methodist and Anglican; we had a lot of expatriates there. There was S.A.B. Babalola, Cyprian Ekwensi was also an Igbobian. And Igbobi had a tradition. There are certain things that you will do and I will know that you are not an Igbobian. You had it in other schools like Christs’ School, Ado-Ekiti started by an old principal of Igbobi. We had a strong tradition introduced by Reginald Park. We had scholarships from Britain and so on. You know Ibru was an Igbobian. In fact all of them except one. Two of them were senior prefects at different times before and after me. My headmaster’s son at Osogbo was my classmate at Igbobi. I knew, many people at Igbobi- Dr. Shadare, the Ataoja’s son also came to Igbobi. You were taught to put in your best even in singing. If you are singing a wrong tune, Parker would stop you and you would go through a lesson in music till you got it right. Were you also good at sports? I think so. The one I gave up was athletics. I did because I didn’t see why I should struggle between here and there and kill myself. But I loved football and cricket. I won a prize when they introduced a prize for that game. I played cricket for the university; I didn’t play football because I was always injured. In spite of that, I even played for the fourth term as a goal keeper. In my last two years there, Igbobi was the champion in school sports. I was the leader of the team. I played against Ghana in inter-versity games twice. Christopher Okigbo and I. He had 49 knock-outs. I played two knock-outs. They would have beaten us. You were trying to succinctly describe what you meant by the Igbobi spirit... Yes. That meant, you gave your best. You avoided cheating. You tried to work hard. If an Igbobian went to politics and succeeded, it was because of the Igbobian spirit, because he was so open that you could see all that he did. Yemi Osinbajo who is the new Vice Presidential candidate of the APC is an Igbobian. You can see his records so far. Olu Falae was in my house, I was his house captain. You can see his records so far. You had to be straight. I didn’t send my children to Igbobi for a simple reason: Igbobi went into bad times. A group of people who ran Igbobi became bad. My first daughter went to Sokoto for her HSC. My sons went to Kaduna. This was to make them recognise that Nigeria is one; to make them know how to travel from here to any part of the country. What were the motivating factors behind your activism as a student at the University of Ibadan? The Englishman’s house is where his castle is. How do you mean? That is what we were taught. This was the time when we were talking about “boycott the boycottables” even before we even went to the university. We went there and started writing. Your language, your culture, you defend to the last. There were people who decided that we should try and act plays ourselves, with the leadership of Ralph Okpara. Then we joined and very soon, everybody wanted to express himself through the theatre. Even the Classics students joined. JP Clark was there; they started a company, with Professor Ferguson who played cricket but also acted plays. The idea was, let us have our own students productions. I have lost a lot of those pictures that I scanned where there was Yetunde Esan, Laide Idowu, Juliet Odezue. The people there were not all art students. Tony Adegbola, Professor Adegbola, later on, our first oil Minister, Bernabas Akobu, who was a good poet. We had a few science students who joined the productions and they performed well. I was Hop croft mind, for which my friend Dr. Falase called me Oncro! You had shepherds’ Hell which became Oke Sapati. play Oke and Sepati. We produced one, two plays and the other people moved. We decided to do our own plays just when I got there. By that time, the Horn had been started by JP Clark and co. We went in for the theatre and wrote one act plays. I wrote Woman Palaver, Yetunde Asun wrote the Gossips of Ewa, Ayo Okunlade also wrote. And since we had no access to the Arts Theatre or Trenchad Hall, we showed in the dining halls. In the dining halls, we used the raised platforms as stage and people came from town and the plays became very popular. It was when I wrote the adaptation, Monkey’s Spur, that Nkem Nwankwo did the inventors. His book Dauda was adapted for the Negro Arts Festival in Dakar. The last one was The Wife, and by this time we had gone big. We were accepted into the Arts Theatre. That was when I wrote The Curse, which was performed later on by one of the people who took part in it – Dapo Onobulu, who did it in 1961 or 1962. They did Wole Soyinka’s plays. After that JP moved in, he had done a dramatic poem, Edvie, which was published in The Beacon and the next after that was Song of a Goat. Then, they started scorpion in 1961. That was how I came in. And then outside, something happened. Ralph Okpara, who was the president of the Students Dramatic Society, was also boss man of the Capo and my brother jointly brought out Safe Journey Seki and Alao. People used to rush home to go and listen to that type of thing. Then my brother went abroad, and a new person took charge. After my wanderings, I came back to Lagos and joined the writers and I wrote The Last Episode from 1964-1970. So, you can see why they think there was only one thing - Imoukhuede and that he is dead. Me and Ralph never separated. I was readily available because I was in the Federal Film Unit, next door to Radio Nigeria. I could type my episodes out and then pass it to them. I wrote so many episodes and I was still writing other things for theVoice of Nigeria. As far as many were concerned, there was only one Aig-Imoukhuede who was responsible for those things and it must have been the one that died. You are not thinking about collecting those materials together? It is a pity. It’s symbolic of our approach to record-keeping or preservation. We were trying to get the tapes so that we can give them to someone to transcribe. But to get the tape is even the problem now. We don’t have regard for things that other people would prize. The only film that was released and was shown in cinema houses and television within 24 hours, it was done in October, 1970 and we can’t find it any more - Gowon Weds. I directed it, I was acting producer at that time. Do you know one day I went there and it was put at the balcony and rain was falling on it? It happened also at the National Council for Arts and Culture, where rainfall had destroyed a lot of the artworks. When I was there, I insured all the artworks at the National Council for Arts and Culture. Go to the National Gallery of Art, ask them now whether they insured their artworks. That is a problem that we have in Nigeria. When I was in the National Council for Arts and Culture and the old radio stations were going to be dismantled, I spoke with Ahmadu Bello University and the Nigerian Cultural Centre there, and asked them to take those tapes. I don’t know what they have done with those tapes now. If you go to the arts council, you will still see the black tapes there in their so-called library. It’s a pity that we don’t value records. What was your experience editing the Beacon in school? We did a lot of things even though we didn’t have a lot of money. This was just student money. It was JP Clark who was the first editor. They also produced The Bug, we had been drawing pirate things. I did a little bit of art because I was the best artist before I went to Igbobi, I was one of Onobulu’s students while he was our visiting teacher. I was also a carver,’’ I won an award. What did you do when you finished from the University? In the University, it is possible that I could have been a dropout because other things were pre-occupying my attention. You saw a lot of things around you and you would rather face things like writing plays, doing musical programmes to welcome visiting guest etc. H. MacDonald, (the man connected with the detonation of the first atom bomb at the Sahara Desert on Fedruary 1960) came to Nigeria, he came to the University but we were not told he was coming, yet the students learnt about it. He went to the library which was new at that time. As he came out, he saw a huge crowd of students protesting, waiting for him. When he got to his car, he hit his head on the frame. Among the students, I came with a placard which read’’, “we who are about to be bombed salute you,’’ and that was the time they were doing bomb test in the Sahara desert. We had Banda, Sekou Toure, they all came in there and we carried placards. We were awake to what was happening around us and we disputed certain things with our teachers. I worked at the radio and was a controller of programmes. I dealt with all that before going back to the university to complete the degree. I was in the radio, from there, I moved to journalism. Was that when you worked for Daily Express under Bisi Onabanjo? Yes. After the result came out, I went to work at Daily Express. I went back to Midwest Region. From Midwest, I went to the film unit in Ibadan. I had some challenges there with politicians. So, I decided to go to where my talents would be better appreciated. First, I went to a newspaper. I went to Express. You know, Alhaji Babatunde Jose was fighting with Bisi Onabanjo to have me. I told him, go and speak to your friends in UPP who were writing all sorts of things that they wanted me to do at the film unit. They wrote that I was attacking them, that I was a columnist, so as such they should use me for their newspaper. I told him “go and tell them to leave me to you.” He said no, So, I said, “eh, I can’t come to Daily Times: I moved from the film unit to Cultural Division as a grade one officer. The money was not much but I could make a mileage. In any case, I was making money from radio plays and my columns; I had no reason to spend money in any case. I was wearing the most fashionable clothes but what caught attention was the thing I was writing. That was despite the fact that I was a chainsmoker and also drank spirits. But all that stopped on 22 of December, 1972. Why? I had stopped smoking before then, the devil tempted me again when I was on tour of the country, writing a script on Nigeria. We got to Kano or Kaduna and then I saw an old boy of Igbobi and he gave me cigarettes and I started smoking again. I never took beer. Just spirits like gin, whiskey. Rum was popular with Pirate’s Confraternity. I was mixing hot drinks with time. All that stopped during the All Africa Games. We were in charge of taking care of the athletes from all over Africa. One day, I decided to stop and I stopped. What is your take on the sale of National Theatre? I will take it one by one. They failed to convince people over the mall, now they want to make it an emirate shopping mall. Have you done a study of that area, to know that once you go in here to Ijora, everything is packed -full from Leventis. Two, where does the Lagos State mono-rail stop? It ends inside the theatre. And for something of that nature; that is the area they wanted to put the hotel. [caption id="attachment_18672" align="aligncenter" width="300"] •Frank Aig-Imoukhuede. Photos: Emmanuel Osodi[/caption] Don’t you need space? Don’t you need the greenery in the middle of Lagos? Isn’t that what you see when you are on the bridge, the greenery in the water logged area? If you have people driving in there to go and buy and sell, where are they going to converge and disperse? They mean that they have to be supported by the BRT. So, where are they going to put that one? If they show you the architectural designs of what they intend to do, will you, in the light of what you have done for the sector, agree with them? Let’s go back to that sentence I told you earlier “The Englishman’s home is his castle.” This is our castle. So, we have to defend it to the last because there is nothing Nigerian about that idea that they are bringing. Rather, it will enslave us the more, it will create corruption which they are not stopping because they will be going between Nigeria and Dubai. In the process, the trafficking and all that will be strengthened. And very soon, what they are trying to fight will come; it will move down south. They are afraid of Boko Haram, let them go and see what started Boko Haram and if you create it right here, you give it leverage and then we will have problems. Yemen is not far from that place. There is nothing that has happened that has not had Yemeni connection. A lot of our people claim that they came from Yemen to Nigeria. But they can argue that there is no terrorism in Dubai or Qatar, so why would you have terrorism here? Yes, this is not Dubai, we are talking of Nigeria. If in lieu of what they want, they say, we will put a tower of unity, in the National Theatre that would have made some sense. People would go there and from the tower, they can see a lot of places, they can make sense. But a place for buying and selling; who is going to sell and buy? Is it the ordinary Nigerian? Don’t we have the mall in Ikeja, Surulere, Lekki and in other places. So, what are they talking about? They would say we need more money to make progress in Nigeria Excuse me. That is nice; these are the same people who are fighting they had a programme sponsored by Zenith where they were talking about culture - the creative industry. They are destroying culture; they have fought and fought against it and have not succeeded. Now, they are trying to batter it down with people from the emirates. Has anyone gone to Yemen to go and do it, have they done it in Egypt? Why Nigeria where we want to start to build our castle ourselves and create a defensive mode round it? It is stupidity, greed and avarice. It is the same group of people who did what they did in Abuja. I got, in 1994, C of O for a cultural centre complex in Abuja. If I had stayed two more years, it would have gone through. We had even got it to the stage of models. We had sent it to council in 1994 under Jerry Gana. And I left on the 8 of January 1994, so we couldn’t do it. And you had their agents fighting us all along. I wanted to create something that would be the centre of tourism in that city, where there wont be everything you want by way of creating art that you won’t get there. That is where you have Ladi Kwali Road and so on. The project was about twice the size of the National Theatre in Lagos. So, what have they done to the space now? They revoked the C of O, gave one person who made them Man of the Year award, a portion of the land for Galleria. Before then, they had been doing something, they put the Musa Yar’Adua centre there, all because of some stupid boys who are thinking that a national parastatal is their father’s property, it does not belong to the people. As chairman of an arm of UNESCO, I wrote a proposal which was accepted for the establishment of regional craft units, metallurgical centre. When I left they did magomago and they were embargoed financially by UNESCO. They thought among themselves and said ‘‘let’s bring that man who created all these things to help us out of this.” So, they brought me in as a consultant. The embargo was lifted. That takes me to this very important project that you are doing, two volumes of coffee table books on Nigerian festivals. Tell me, where are these festivals? They are in the rural areas. That is why you have this book. When you have something like those festivals and you support them properly, considering the multiplicity of those festivals, that means that money will go round. You could take most of those elements from the village and bring them to bear on the villages. That is domestic tourism; that is what is in there. Not just that, the type of festivals that we have, take the festivals that we have in Cross River, you bring people from Cross River and you bring them there. From there, you develop outlets for television. That was what I put in the Niger-Delta plan – that we have competitions among the states. In 1988, we set up the traditional Wrestling Association of Nigeria, TWAN. After I left, that was the end of the association. That is what we should be having on television. We can have regional and states competitions, and then people coming from the West African Coast to compete and before you know it, it would become something big. So, do you need the emirates to invest in the national theatre? You think it’s deeper than that? It’s greed, just avarice. But this is a set of people who don’t have the kind of knowledge that you have? They are lazy people. They can’t exercise their God-given brains. And they are there with eyes that do not see and they cannot dream dreams. The only thing they use that for is to go on television and talk about the American, Martin Luther-King Jr. This is our own dream, this should be our own dream not Luther King’s dream. They have a whole faculty but they don’t dream. The second volume of this book tries to make sense of who we are? Not only that, the book talks about the fact that we are mistreating ourselves for nothing. The title is Between God and Man. Between and god and man, what do you have? You have lesser gods, kings, the intermediaries are all there. It means therefore that when you want to reach the intermediaries you use festivals. You have the intermidiaries, who are inter-related. And so for example you have gaya, which is an example of communal living in parts of northern Nigeria, those are the festivals. You have the ojude oba that is the new one that is coming up. Self-help is great. Tradition and some of the things we are doing are reconciled. We made efforts to reconcile the differences we have – archeological findings and others. If this man comes from a certain place, the evidence must show that he comes from there. Wasn’t this done before? In what way does your own work make it any different? Distortion! You base your arguments on the fact that you derive Benin art from Ife. The evidence doesn’t show. There is nothing like Benin art in Ife. But there is something documentary that Ife was somewhere else not where it is now. How long did it take to finish these two volumes? They are the things I have gathered since I was young. There were the things stored in my head from when I was eight years old. Part of it, for example is my journey to the place that is historically the boundary between Ife and Yorubaland. I didn’t know about the importance of carvings until I got to Lagos and saw some of the things I used to play with at the palace at Ila in the museum in Lagos. I now told the people there that ‘this is elempe’ and I sang adamude.