You went to Government College, Ibadan, at a tender age of ten on scholarship. How did you cope with the older boys? Can you share with us some of your memorable experiences of that college?

Those school mates of mine, they were bullies. They were terrifying because they looked big. Some of them, I’m sure, had children already. Some had moustaches and so they shaved every morning. The ‘over-confidence’ that my mother used to complain of saved me and put me in trouble also. Because they were big they felt they should trample all over me. I had no hesitation in taking them on. It was a very good training because you defeat people like that largely with moral persistence. They knew they were misusing their power. Whenever they turned on me, being really small, the bullying got really intense because these big boys could not stand the idea that this rondo (small) boy was sitting while others were standing. They couldn’t stand it. They intensified the bullying, which made me even more aggressive. I must confess that sometimes I was responsible for bringing disaster on my head because I would provoke them: I would call them names they didn’t like. Anyway, it got too much, so I called Christopher Kolade and Mesida, and said: “Let’s form a tripartite alliance. Anytime any of us is bullied, the other two would come to his rescue of the others.” And that’s what we did. I summoned the most notorious to our presence and read him the riot act. We tried to move together as much as possible. The bullying reduced. The very notion that the three of us were ganging up against bullying infuriated that particular bully. He just couldn’t stand it. Even though the others backed off, this individual— I remember his name very well— he just became more and more aggressive. And he somehow sensed that it was my idea.

You volunteered in the library?

Yes. The library was my favourite place. Also, the library was sanctuary. When I was cornered, or didn’t feel in a battle mood, there were two places into which I escaped – the library and the chapel. Their respect for the latter used to amuse me, so sanctimonious! They would back off and start circling the chapel when I sat in there, indifferent. I used to enjoy their frustration. I would just step inside the chapel and the fool would wilt. I remember one of them who decided to invade the library sanctuary. He didn’t want to beat me up inside the library; so he tried to drag me out. As we struggled, I remember that I was catapulted through the glass door and I had a huge gash. I bled profusely. And he became frightened. It was very amusing to see this bully cowering because he thought he had killed me. Of course, I enjoyed that sense of power over him during that incident.

One of your class mates told me two days ago that there were plenty of snakes at the Government College that time and that you were one of the students killing the snakes. You were not afraid that those snakes could kill you?

I hated snakes. I still do. If you like, I was even scared of snakes – those creepy creatures. Many of us have a superstitiouus dread of snakes. Since I was afraid of them and considered them dangerous to humanity, it seemed logical not to leave any such intruder alive – wherever possible. Made me feel safer.

Instead of running away from them?

Instead of running away? Yes, I preferred to attack them. I grew up with an attitude that you must overcome your fear – but this I only realized in retrospect.

At school, when you confronted the bullies, were the authorities behind you?

Sometimes of course the case would end up with the authority. I can’t really remember but there were a few times I was involved in cases that went to the authorities. However, I considered it a personal battle, one that had to be resolved among us because one couldn’t always depend on the authorities. In any case, the authorities didn’t particularly like me because I insisted on going my own way. In many instances I would be where I was not supposed to be, so I also got into hot water with those who should be on my side. Sometimes, even I felt that I tended towards avoidably provoking authority!

What kind of writing did you do? Poetry? Short stories?

I’m sure I’ll be embarrassed now by the poems I wrote but, yes, I did write poetry. I believe I even won a prize. I think it was a bronze medal at some writing competition which was organised by the British Council. From the moment I fell in love with language and discovered the power of imagination, I started writing short stories, essays.

Is it true that you spent two years at the University College, Ibadan, making trouble for the authorities as a campus journalist and as Captain Blood in the Pyrates Confraternity?

My campus journalism was mostly to counter some nasty student journals, misogynist rags like The Bug, so the authorities had no interest in it The Eagle – the main medium for my kind of journalism. No, let me deal at some length with your interest in the Pyrates Confraternity over which some heinous misrepresentations, even libellous inventions continue till today. Here goes.

The saddest, and most frustrating thing about a special breed of Nigerians is their unconscionable resort to calumny when their ox is gored. Then – watch them wallow in slander, distortion, vilification and allied toxic weapons in their narration of, or recourse to, historical references. The Pyrates Confraternity was never a cult. There is a difference between a cult and a fraternity. And you journalists, I blame you for failing to educate the public about that distinction. There is absolutely no correlation between a cult – secret or not – and a college fraternity. The Pyrates Confraternity was a typical high-spirited college club with a self-deflating disposition allied to social commitment. Tafawa Balewa – if you go all the way back to pre-independence – the authorities invited the Pyrates Confraternity to help in welcoming him. With their colourful dress and theatrics, they were the main feature when the Prime Minister visited UI. That is what all university alumni of that period recall about the PC – or seadogs as they also address themselves. Fun driven, yet committed to social service, irreverent, an eccentric slice of the college creative spectrum. Nigeria however has a remarkable talent for enabling perversions of any routine culture. Criminal, cultic gangs do exist on campuses. acting out their putrid and deadly fantasies. They also call themselves fraternities.

It is the failure of the informed media to underscore the distinction that nerves the real public enemies and their scions, such as that pathetic character – Sanni Abacha’s whelp – to feel entitled to abuse the freedom of speech and association for which his betters have fought, and insult the public with a reminder of the thoroughly corrupt origin of his existence. He wrote, “Somebody who started an evil cult, he should go and repair that before he talks about my father.” This son of a killer, torturer, murderer and a cultist incidentally – if you don’t believe that last, go and ask the man who took over shortly after Abacha died – the neophyte solicitor had the impudence to join in the choric lie. I recommend that he ask Obasanjo also, ask him what was unearthed around Aso Rock. Talk to Obasanjo’s private chaplain. When people talk glibly about cults and fraternities, I feel nothing but pity for society because such fast and loose attributions merely deprive their children of some truly light-hearted yet disciplined and socially committed activities in college life.

Since I am still around, let me use myself as an example of the garbled notions that result from hand-me-down, corrupted hearsays of history. Take my own “pyratical” name of those early student days – Captain Blood – a name that was taken, of course, from historical figures – note, by the way, the adoption of the ancient inscription of the word, just to underline a difference. Now, in those early days, you might have encountered a slogan – “Blood for Blood”. What did it really mean? How did it arise? Let us delve into ancient history a little.

A campaign in blood donation was introduced into this country late 1953. Blood banks were a rarity. As always the Pyrates Confraternity undertook to be among the first donors, breaking a superstitious jinx for the uninformed. And the slogan was “Blood for Captain Blood … let’s go and donate blood.”. The pyrates led the way. And that sense of public service has endured till today. I shall not bother to enumerate. One of the pyratical codes is – ‘Just act. Don’t advertise’. Suffice it to reveal that, having pored through tomes of compiled security reports on the PC, including those by infiltrators from the SSS, Military Intelligence etc., organisations such as the EFCC, shortly after its inception, signed a Memorandum of Cooperation with the Confrat. That anti-corruption body was merely following the example of the NDLEA which had no hesitation in running joint programmes with the Confraternity. Neither had the slightest cause to complain about the collaboration – very much the contrary. The Sanni Abacha approach was a different matter. Several seadogs were detained and tortured, on suspicion of being underground members of NALICON. A number were of course, but the victims were all innocent, without exception. Their only crime was – they belonged to a movement founded by Abacha’s implacable enemy, WS.

More than enough said. The Confrat has floored both state governments – including the military – in their misguided attempts to proscribe the PC as a secret cult. Those who have swallowed garbage, yet refuse to spit it out, even after the emetic of facts, are free to continue to chew the cud of ignorance. Seadogs can fight their own battles. The Pyrates Confraternity has long quit campuses – at least three decades ago – leaving those citadels of learning to authenticated diabolical cults of gang-bangers, armed robbers, paid assassins and kidnappers, acid throwers, political thugs, protection dons and extortionists. They deserve one another!