Jazz in the Present Sense

Lovers of Jazz were treated to another evening of soulful tunes as a contingent of indigenous and foreign-based acts treated jazz followers to a rare evening of music at the Eko Hotel and suites on November 12.
The Luxury Concert was another musical episode in a year that had witnessed the MUSON Jazz Festival, Lagos Jazz Series and Sax Appeal, a preponderance of shows that kindled hope for a genre that had witnessed a preference of some of its jewels for foreign shores.
This did not douse the enthusiasm exuded by the foreign acts on the line up as Gerald Albright, Angie Stone, Tiwa Savage and the duo of Richard Bona and Mike Stern shrugged off all signs of fatigue to attend to a long list of pre-performance events after their arrival a day before the show proper. Indigenous acts Bez and the duo of Pure and Simple were also not intimidated by the glut of international names as the press conference at the Eko Hotel revealed lots of gusto.
This mood set the pace for a night of soul and jazz fusions promised by the organisers which included Smooth FM, GTBank, Onward Publishers, Avis Car Rentals, UNIC Insurance, Linetrale and Design Options Limited.
Sadly, some jazz lovers missed the boat as tickets were sold out hours to the start of the night of complementary music that commenced with Tiwa Savage. The Sony ATV songwriter regaled the audience with her captivating voice fitted over tunes like “Collard Green and Cornbread” and “African Man. The gorgeous singer’s dancing skills were suspect, but her vocal might was not in doubt as she held the audience captive with a vocal delivery befitting her profile in the event catalogue. With a repertoire that has seen her back-up the likes of Chaka Khan, Kelly Clarkson and Whitney Houston, the foreign-based Nigerian singer might achieve her aims of sharing music with the whole world sooner rather than later.
A blend of Ebony and Ivory was on display as Richard Bona, one of the best bassists in the world opened with five-time Grammy nominee Mike Stern, also described as one of the best guitarists on the planet. Their dexterity with the six-strings was evident as their 20-minute performance brought the house down after their six-man band move from a low to high tempo. At some point, Stern could have been accused of showboating during his solo, but it was his first trip to Nigerian shores and he seemed bent on making up for lost time with his guitar delivery and a Yoruba salutation that commenced it.
The electricity of this performance was replaced by the stark simplicity of Pure and Simple who returned with their armada of indigenous tracks. In a line-up brimming with established names, the duo of Ifiok Effanga and Nathan McDonald seemed unperturbed as they exuded the potential that has seen many jazz devotees finger them as the next stars of the genre. They closed their act with “99 days for the thief and one day for the owner”.
A standing ovation heralded Gerald Albright unto the colourful stage and such adulation was not misplaced as his dexterity in the genre was followed by fame that was bigger than his imposing frame. Having also sold over a million copies around the world, it was understandable why many swayed and chorused to the soulful notes from his silver saxophone with familiarly. The night of soothing tunes also had performances from Angie Stone and Bez.

larger than life

Larger than Life (Published in naijaunderground.blogspot.com)

With the release of the This Is It- a documentary on the life and times of Michael Jackson, fans of the wacko Jacko got an extraordinary glimpse into the final hours of the ultimate showman. As Adewole Ajao joined others for the premiere at the Lekki-based Genesis Deluxe Cinemas, it was devoid of any attempts at a tawdry cash-in.

Escapism definitely comes in many forms and one is a two-hour film dedicated to the memory of a certain departed pop star that attained global popularity for his skills in the realm of entertainment. Welcome to the world of Michael Jackson whose life and death was rife with ambivalent comments and stuff that bordered on the extraordinary.
However after the Kenny Ortega documentary, critics are being forced to have a rethink about a personality who might have been one of the few humans to utilise their talent to its fullest capacity.

With a name that was as popular as Walt Disney and Coca Cola, this film on the King Pop with its doses of forgone greatness and sparks of what could have been if he’d made his proposed 50 shows was a good way of saying bye the to stage great that let a bundle of mementos that include his dance steps, crazy costumes and baffled fans. And if you are one of the film’s critic’s earnings of $2.2million on its premiere alone would erode all your doubts.
Of course many have dubbed it shameful profiteering after back-breaking rehearsals preceded Michael’s death but 120 minutes of the Columbia Pictures piece restores Michael to his past glory by evading all the drama that occupied his 50 years on earth with most of the footage coming from rehearsals at the Los Angeles-based Forum and Staples Centre in California prior to final performances at the London-based O2 Arena -venue of his supposed comeback into music. Such scenes depict a tireless performer in full control of his gifts rather than a drugged man forcing himself through the 80 hours of rehersals.

Present rehearsals are juxtaposed with those from the past and one can fully comprehend Michael as the consumate perfectionist-a tag fosited on him by Akon.
There are some tears in the piece though as dancers selected from far & wide to tour with him are all shook up after meeting him. His voice also remains in segments where he croons his popular tracks while decked in the clothes that made him the quintessential showman
Innovations come with a remake of Thriller and Smooth Criminal-a throwback to classic fifties mobster movies where he stars alongside Rita Hawthorne, Cary Grant and other screen legends in Gilda, Tokyo Joe and His Girl Friday in a remake video for ‘Smooth Criminal’-a black and white segment ending with Michael escaping a hail of bullets delivered via Humphrey Bogart’s machine gun.

Despite being fifty years, the signatory groin clutching and hip-lifting alongside his dancers in preparations for ‘Beat It’ retains a flawless clarity that can only be peculiar to the progenitor of the evergreen dance steps. Despite being horribly lean he still exudes rare energy for his age, silencing those who thought his dance skills had ebbed with time.
Words from guitarist Orientha Panagaris, Jonathan Muffet, Judith Hill, production designer Michael Cotten are another angle to an embellishment of the pop king’s character- glowing terms which go in tandem with whatever inferences the audience arrive at concerning the pop king’s character.

In the final scene, an end to rehearsals shows an effusive Michael thanking everyone for giving their all while expressing optimism for the coming shows which he will never make after passing away a few weeks before they commence- a development has seen some boycotting the film due to their animosity towards AEG Live for overworking him. But he might have had the last laugh over critics while adding another memento to a long list of bequeaths like the moonwalk, weird costumes and a list of unparalleled hits. And like the fictional Beowulf, Michael might just be a larger than life character who remains with us even in death.

a tale of two streets

It is rush hour in the central business district of Lagos sees everyone busy with the routine of the day. So are the undertakers who sit patiently in the usual waiting game along Odunlami and Igbosere Streets. Many might frown on this inertia but it has definitely been profitable for them as their present locations have become a coffin capital within the metropolis.
From innocuous beginnings as typical streets in what is now a Central Business District, both lanes have become synonymous with the undertaking business and coffins which are entwined with the history of the area. You might be forced to call it a highway to heaven when you realise that a vast majority of the locally-made and imported coffins that have been used, and will be used by deceased Lagos residents come from this domain that has become a thoroughfare for getting to the Third Mainland Bridge.
This realisation packs zero gloom for the proprietor of Ramos Caskets Alade Isiaka Ramos takes me down memory lane. He is an old hand having trained at the Magbamowo Industrial Company which has morphed into MIC caskets, and is also the proprietor of his personal business which has been running for forty years.
“Back then it was owned and managed by Theophilus Oladipo Okusanya, but he was not the first person here. There was also Mobolaji Bank-Anthony whose shop was in front of the High Court, Pa Johnson and a woman from Badagry who took over the business from the dad of the current Oba of Akran who used to operate at Kakawa before he went to take the throne that his son is presently occupying.”
With various versions of who sowed the seeds of the coffin trade in the area, there is no agreement, but an accord is reached when it comes to training as most of those interviewed are products of Theophilus Oladipo Okusanya. From his early beginnings as a maker of Church pews, he moved to the business and trained a multitude of acolytes on 17 Odunlami Street. They later graduated and own shops on the street where it all began.
“My parents could not send me further,” added Ramos. “I had the interest so once I got back from Holy Cross which was my primary school, I would go there. I was a street boy then but earned little money which was useful when I finished primary school. I was there for six years before setting up my own company and I currently have children who have graduated as doctor and lawyers.”
Like Ramos, others who have tapped from the gains of the business attest to the changes in the whole trade. Starting as a street with a sprinkling of undertakers and early tags of Coffin Makers Area, it has all changed, just like the coffin-maker tag which has also been replaced by undertaker.
But this has not replaced views on the rigour of casket-making process with many attesting to the effort a befitting one. With a range of activities involved, it is not a one-man affair as disclosed by the manager of Time Caskets Taiwo Daudu.
“All the coffins are a division of labour but the fittings are imported. It might take a week or more to make caskets and demand determines what we make. You can choose from a range but we import the metal ones.”
These are gotten from abroad due to the cost implications and the whole attitude towards coffins is not of a proactive dimension as it is in foreign countries. Many would rather have nothing to do with it until the passage of a loved one, or when they have to use it. A view which is most of the undertakers call unnecessary since the process of assembling them is similar to that of furnishings.
“The casket is just like another piece of furniture,” argues Sanni Adeniran of Kafsan Caskets. “The rudiments as construction, finishing, polishing and the salesmanship angle are things you must learn.”
Requests have definitely played their part in nurturing the undertaking business as importation which used to be a fad has been joined by a range of diverse activities and an adoption of marketing principles over the years. These services include sale of clothes for the corpse, provision of band boys and others exuding a TQM (Total Quality Management) angle with emphasis on satisfying customer needs.
“There was nothing like that in the seventies,” recalls Saheed Akintunde of Ebony Caskets. “It was later that we started providing people to carry the coffins including the band boys and vehicles.”
Ebony Caskets is another heavyweight of the area located on Igbosere Street.
Established in the eighties, it also exudes the stylish angle to burying clients, and apart from the provision of the coffin, pall bearers and flowers, even the archetypal hearse is gradually making way to intimidating vehicles that a corpse might have been unable to ride during its lifetime. Repatriation also seems to be an innovation that ensures the undertaker service transcends local dimensions. With a glut of such services, demand is elastic, and comes with the usual competition belying the solidarity exuded by the inhabitants.
“You need to use what you want to get what you want,” says the production manager of Peak Caskets. Everybody wants to survive and you might get an offer when you need money.”
Price harmonisation is a general dream, but it is hard as there seems to be no union, or a semblance of it in place. While most rave about the existence of an Association of Funeral Undertakers and Coffin Makers Association, others like Fashola Okusanya, another product of the Magbamowo Industrial Company who left his brother to establish Fash Undertakers is oblivious of such. But they remain upbeat since a coffin will always be used in the short of long term.
“If you make a casket, someone eventually has to use it even if it stays outside for decades but you have to realise that some are even afraid to touch or come near it and you see them cringing once they even sight one,” Okusanya said.
The kids have a swell time playing in them though. Some even fall asleep in them according to the undertakers. It is this innocence the undertakers apply to their production despite the stigma attached to it, and fortunately their products seem immune to CBD officials and thieves.
“The best the CDB people do is to tell us to move the caskets off the road, but they do take them to their office like they do the products of other people,” added the undertaker. “Most of our caskets even stay outside overnight and cannot be stolen because the fear is there.”
Another emotion common to all undertakers is sympathy. Amidst their needs for perpetual succession and sale of their wares, Okusanya mentioned a human angle belying their profession.
“I don’t feel happy when my coffins are bought for people that die at a tender age. Even if the person is 40-years, due to that line, when they come and you go to do the funeral, you will not feel happy. What you are supposed to do is not even possible because they will be crying, but if the person was aged, it is better. I don’t pray for it.”
It is hard for many of the undertakers to imagine further novelties, but having survived this long, they patiently wait for further innovations.

A DAY AT THE MUSEUM

The car looks okay amidst some bullet holes and broken glass. The windscreen at the back is gone, but the coat of arms is still keeping faith with the dark vehicle balanced on wooden stands. It rekindles memories of a dark day in February when death whisked away the then head of state General Murtala Mohammed. I am very familiar with the tale and remain undecided about skipping the session with the an education officer whom the Museum head Ibironke Ashaye instructs to lead me on the tour, but she insists, and it seems to be another history lesson as Antonia Adewunmi Wiliams leads me into the latest home for the car that was conveying the head of state to work on February 13, 1976 before it was besieged by gun-toting coup plotters.
For a Thursday afternoon, I am surprised to be the only visitor, but I am told a pottery exhibition was opened the previous day before by the Minister of Culture, Tourism and National Orientation. He was also one of the numerous visitors to the structure tagged Nigerian Government’s of Yesterday and Today.
As we enter the air conditioned interior, it is not just the bullet riddled Mercedes Benz 230.6 that catches my fancy as other signifiers of Nigerian nationalism adorn the green wall. Initial pictures include those of the Ooni of Ife, Oba Akitoye of Lagos and the Emir of Kano.
“Lord Lugard was the one who amalgamated the North and South Protectorate, she rattles on, and it sounds too familiar, but I soak it in like a sponge as she leads me round. The pictures do say a lot as images of Nigerian Governor-General’s end with one where the Union Jack is lowered- an end to colonialism, and the commencement of the images with Sir Tafawa Balewa, Nnamdi Azikiwe trigger memories of the First Republic.
Military rule commences with the usual characters spread over eight regimes. There is Aguiyi Ironsi and Gowon in his prime. The picture of the youngest head-of-state till date sees him balanced on a seat replete in his military regalia. His portrait is next to that of General Murtala Mohammed whose chubby cheeks and solid visage is admirable. This makes a change from the twenty naira image.
“The car started the whole idea of the structure,” adds my host. “It was formerly around that area, but we moved it here and it was commissioned yesterday (September 1) by the minister of Tourism, Culture and National orientation Alhaji Abubakar Mohammed. We moved the car here since the former place was not befitting for it. Also the coup was not successful as Obasanjo took over while the coup plotters were brought to book,”
A picture with Dimka being led away in chains with a grin on his face brings back memories of school days spent poring over Nigerian history. Most of the actors in this script have gone, but the Mercedes Benz 230.6 that used to convey the head of state on his official duties remains. It would not turn heads like it did in 1976, but its current state ends numerous tales on its state as the limousine retains an intimidating aura while the red leather upholstery and flags triggers memories of what used to be.
The bullet holes stick out with a horrifying clarity and I am told the driver also passed away. “Murtala’s ADC survived though. He (Murtala) was just there for six months and apart from Ernest Shonekan .I think he was the head of state that stayed shortest,” infers Williams.
I count about ten bullet holes which are discernible on the side-mirrors, left side of the car and parts of the passenger seats have also been ripped by hot lead. A new set of visitors have arrived, but the guide continues her tale on military coups which are punctuated by the Shonekan era and a shout of “Uncle Sege” by one of the visitors.
“Maintaining the car takes a lot and you need a constant AC to keep it going,” my chaperone continues. “The engine is still intact and the tyres are also new after a fresh set were donated by Michelin.”
Most of the pictures come in black & white and end with a portrait of President Goodluck Jonathan and that of his vice Namadi Sambo. The wall is devoid of any more space to hang pictures, but she says the museum is ready for further changes in government. With the re-commissioned haven being a temporary one, the plan is to have a permanent venue that will accommodate the size of its visitors.
“We have an average like 30 coming here to look at it daily, but when school children come here, we have around 200.”
Cool,” I reply. As a schoolboy I never visited the museum, but it is good to know that the kids can be acquainted with the real thing other than pictures in some mote-covered textbook lying in the school library.
“Most of them ask about Murtala, Obasanjo and Lugard. The also want to know about the coat of arms because they need it for social studies, government etc. It is not the main attraction but attracts a lot of people.”
With centenary celebrations of Nigerian independence around the corner, the museum is set for a large contingent of visitors who will want to feed their eyes.
“What if you get a buyer for the car? I joke.
“It is not for sale,” my guide replies with a grin. “If we were not passionate about it we would just abandon it.” The car is still intact and the museum head was upbeat about this artefact even if most visitors seemed indifferent to it.
“We still have many pictures that are not there, but by the time we complete the new building, everything will be in place,” Ashaye enthused.

SWAYED BY THE SPIRIT


Odia Ofeimun’s serious gaze was often broken as a smile cascaded across his face, and despite the scarcity of discernible humour from the poet he was still enjoying himself as another play held sway within the dimly lit conference hall of Terra Kulture in the Victoria Island neighbourhood of Tiamiyu Savage. Once again, it was hosting the Jero Plays and the aim was to celebrate Soyinka’s 76th birthday which occurred on July 13. After last year’s performances, the cast had changed. Ditto the Lagos Bar Beach which had inspired the tale of sand, deception and gifted rogues in white garbs.
The costumes were also sporting some improvements as the dominant white hue showed its predilection for blending with virtually any complexion from the colour circle. And if you were one of those still in doubt about the rationale for staying on the beach, the sixties play by Wole Soyinka showed why beach business was and still remains a very religious and lucrative enterprise via Jero (played by Sola Roberts Iwaotan). The duty of the recalcitrant man-of-God after liberating himself from his angry boss is to tender God’s flock on the earth, an effort he tackles via deception and trickery as his disciples like Chume (Kanayo Larry Okani) are suspended in an unsatisfied state due to Jero’s deliberate antics.
The man of God does not hide this strategy during his dialogues with the audience as he explains that he deliberately prevents Chume from beating his wife Amope (Ijeoma Grace Agu). But even immaculate Jeroboam, the articulate leader of God’s Christ’s crusade is an unsatisfied fellow as his time on the beach still engenders comments like “If only I had this beach to myself”. This hunger for bigger things allows a peek into the style of crooked individuals who sway their targets with colour and appeals to the imagination. Like the ventriloquist, his gullible servants are swayed with all sorts of antics and make-believe. Things continue until the lid of his game is blown open when Chume discovers he is actually the debtor his wife has moved house to lay-in-wait for. With the truth overrunning the lies he has fed Chume, the willing disciple becomes an antagonist who chases his former mentor with a cutlass at the end of the first play. This sour conclusion triggers the commencement of Jero’s Metamorphosis, and not much has changed in the sequel despite the crooked man of God nearly losing his head. Armed with a new sidekick he calls Sister Rebecca (Jumoke Lahdi Bello), a former employee of the town planning council, they are up to a new wave of deception. By using the government’s own tool against it, he commences a plot to acquire the beach and conscript fellow beach churches headed by Shadrach (Gbenga Adekanbi), Ananias (Kenneth Uphopho), Isaac (Precious Anyanwu Marcuos) and Martha (Ijeoma Grace Agu). Like Jero, the so-called soldiers of salvation have terrible pasts right behind them despite their professed rebirth, an effort that has increased their demons instead of reducing them. Jero has them all by the balls, and he uses this craftily till a conclusion that can only spell doom for Christianity and the contested beach which eventually comes under the influences of the Church of the Apostolic Salvation (CASA). Chume also stages a comeback to the pack as Brigadier Joshua of the latest army after time in the asylum and a renewal of spirits under the Salvation Army. With an umpteenth christening from Jero, his kissing of Jero’s signet ring signals the dog’s return to its vomit, a pathetic sight which is another nail in the coffin of religion.
Any semblance of resistance is removed after a missing file and the unrelenting stupidity of a missing council official leaves the Tourism Board Executive (Austin Onuoha) powerless to Jero’s demands, and he finally bows to the wishes of the crafty Jero who emerges at the end of proceedings in military regalia, a scene rekindling the veracity of earlier comments that “by the cut of his tailor, a man is known”. He is not alone as his beach competitors minus Shadrach look regal in their new found military uniforms. This denouement attracts a shake of the head from most viewers, the only pitiful reaction to the tragedy of religion and thoughts on how many devouring prophets litter reality disguised as sheep.
First staged in 1960, the Jero plays witness some alterations under the day’s performance by the Renegade Theatre. As always, contemporary incidents like the national team’s recent World Cup catastrophe via Yakubu Aiyegbeni and Sanni Kaita are spread over parts of the first drama. It offers some dynamism, but sadly slows the tempo of the scenes down at some points. The anomaly still allows the play its role of engendering a recall of one of the most popular Soyinka plays, an effort that packs lessons on appearance and reality, different sides to the whole coin of religion and life.

TOE TO TOE

The noise started last year, and with the dawn of March, it was time for words to morph into action as the V Monologues and Wole Oguntokun’s Tarzan Monologues came to life on the stage of the weekly Theatre at Terra Series at the Victoria Island-based terra Kulture. Since Eve Enlser’s Vagina Monologues had been adapted to the Nigerian V Monologues, it had witnessed a handful of performances with a sprinkling of popular actresses. The arrival of the male version via Wole Oguntokun’s Tarzan Monologues followed in 2009 and its quest for bragging rights commenced with a month of performances at Terra Kulture with names like Bimbo Manuel, O.C Ukeje, Paul Alumona, Precious Anyanwu Marcous and Kunle Adeyoola. And just when you were thinking the Tarzan Monologues was and end to the sexual jousting bedevilling both plays, the next thing was a blend of both plays into one performance.
Initially, it sounded too good to be true as the Wole Oguntokun and the Kudirat Initiative set to work but as soon a cast crackling with names like Ego Obaro, Kate Henshaw-Nuttal, Ireti Doyle, Katherine Edoho, Adunni Nepheriti and …King were set to join the men, all you had to do was sit back and anticipate the resolution of this pleasing problem, just like others in a filled hall which also had Nobel Laureate Wole Soyinka in attendance.
And the wait was not long as the 14 characters emerge from everywhere amidst drum beats and changing lights. Clad in black costumes and with some traditional embellishments, there is a conscious appeal to contemporariness despite a grim hue which adds strength to the themes of tragedy that will come later in the play.
Modernity is also fitted into most of the statements despite some unsavoury throwbacks and somewhat vulgar diction. As always, Oguntokun’s manipulation of time sees the story as close to the present as possible. This is discernible with some terms that give an inkling of socio-political events are currently rocking the global community-interludes that offer some comic relief which go in sync with the vocal pugilism between the sexes. The ladies are first and this commences a ding-dong plot of statements and refutations as each character will change roles to accommodate the diverse elements within the play.
Some situations are peculiar to both sexes though as the male child syndrome puts the women in a dilemma but the men also suffer. While the male is a victim of the nocturnal desires of a wife desperately in need of a male child to gain relevance from her in-laws, the husband is tired of losing sleep over the need to constantly copulate. Kemi “Lala” Akindoju’s outpouring about her daddy shows the good and bad sides of fatherhood, a grim prognosis which is similar to those of Precious Anyanwu Marcous’s, except that the female will kill her dad for abusing her, rather than admire him like her male counterpart will. This is not the only iron hand clad in a soft glove though as it seems abuse is common to all of the women with widowhood, beatings, trafficking and violation running through deliveries by Ego Obaro, Ireti Doyle, Kemi “Lala” Akindoju and Kate Henshaw. Their reactions also expose traditional practices as the woman is portrayed as no more than a pawn whose value is underscored by a melange of caustic episodes like child loss, rape, and constant deception caused by the male who is made out as an ogre incapable of nothing more than transcendental evil. Fortunately, the women are not all angels as the interlude involving Ego Obaro’s widowhood and a later scene with Ireti Doyle sees them turn against two of their own while depicting the bestiality akin to all members of the human race. An interesting psychological dimension made more enjoyable with songs from sonorous Adunni Nefertiti and interesting choreography which gives more appeal to the unsavoury episodes.
The men are also victims too. Apart from arriving at the isolation and feebleness of his persona, there is a discovery that all that makes him a man can also ferry him to his grave. This crucible comes with an inevitable contention with the mind-boggling ways of women. Moral content and lessons are not in short supply as each argument by one side is blown out of the water by another member of the opposite sex. This evokes different emotions from the audience as the changing fate of the characters will evoke pity, sympathy, laughter and disgust.
At some point the feud gives way to agreements as menopause, premature ejaculation and the appreciation of the other sex are convergences for both sides. There is also the notion of ‘enjoying it while it lasts’, an ideology that makes Kunle Adeyoola the victim of hard-fibered Ireti Doyle’s wealth. Cradle snatching also peculiar to the men but the label seems otherwise when Bimbo Manuel argues that a lady old enough to vote is old enough to choose her partner, even if he is an older sexy grey. Escape also comes up an option for the faint-hearted like Sola Roberts Iwaotan but his dream of foreign freedom would change if he could tap from Kemi “Lala” Akindoju’s Italian sojourn. Rationality and outright ridicule also go together and it is no wonder that …King’s commentaries about the female orifice seem disgusting but true as she reels out a list of possibilities for the female orifice, towards the end of the piece. At this point she sounds inaudible and perhaps it is due to her personal aversion to her statements or just the noise from the audience cat calls. The play reaches its head with the narration of a long list of male and female stereotypes and ends with the song “Lean on Me”, a unifying tune for all the characters. After two hours of bickering, the only sensible direction for both sexes is as complements rather than competitors. This covert theme of no victor, no vanquished also packs a more appealing diction. Away from some flashes of vulgarity, it is descriptive enough to make the audience feel the cast as they reel out experience after experience. However, some pieces are still missing from the whole monologue puzzle and the organisers might have to address this issue and that of getting a bigger venue if the premiere scenes give way to bigger things.

Gingering his Swagger


The venue for the interview is dark, so dark that I hardly notice Gabriel Oche Amanyi a.k.a Terry G arrive at the Oregun venue for our interview. The last time we met at the Yaba-based Veritas studio in the company of Charly Boy and Rugged Man, he was sporting a low cut and exuding tons of potential. Years on and he has proven his mettle by surpassing pervious expectations. And he swears there is more to come in his current re-branding campaign which inspired his shock of dreadlocks and a lip piercing.
“I don’t want them to see me like they see them and I will keep doing what I have to do for Nigerian music,” explains the Benue indigene who has never set foot in his home-state. “I have never been to Benue because I was born in Lagos and grew up in Iju where I spent all my life. Also, I never had the opportunity to be posh but my parents were hard-working. I am just a person who discovered that at the end of the day, it is someone like me that can help me because a rich man will only help a rich man.”
This inference is contestable, but views on him resembling Congolese singer Awilo with the new look are not. He laughs as this conjecture while explaining that he and his quartet of protégés are all for peace.
“What we’re here for is peace and by the grace of God I will create peace because controversies have been around but we are here for the re-branding of Terry G and house of ginjah so people will know that Terry G us a different person from when they see him.”
This is laughable but probable as he has more stories than a book. From singing back-up for artist Faze, he is on the road to becoming a heavyweight in the music business via personal hits and music productions. And he has made it happen for the so-called big names that were up there when he started out with gospel which remains his first love.
“The reason I went secular is the need for comfort. We needed comfort in my family and as the first born, I have to struggle. If you do carpentry and it doesn’t work, you do something else. It doesn’t mean I won’t go back because that is the root and certain times, you have to do some things before going back to the Lord,” waxed the singer religiously.
Some things for Terry G include his quiver of albums. From “Free Me”, he has raised the bar with others like Free Madness, a headline catching song that has proved his critics wrong.
“Free Me was a responsible album and one that I took time to do with zeal and passion but it did not make any impact because no matter how you sing or how professional you are, there are other people that sing like you,” he adds emphatically. “So how do you make a difference? For me personally, the message of Ginjah your swagger is adding zeal to what you do. The ginjah is the zeal and the swagger is what you do. That is the reason why I changed my style.”
His style has also attracted a diary of caustic events as tales of fights, arrests and other unsavoury episodes have stuck closer than his shadow. Terry G agrees but is quick to explain why anybody believing all the allegations would also believe anything.
“The reason is because I am obvious and if I was not, there would be no controversy. When you are in public, you act like a leader because if you do not act like a leader, you lack the ginger. Right now, I am a good boy and as the first born of a deaconess and elder, I have to act responsible. If I am going home, I leave all the things I do outside behind. Seeing in believing but there are other things people should see.”
This is hard especially when he balances popularity and notoriety in an uncanny fashion. Recent episodes include the alleged stabbing of a DJ, his issues with Mallam Spicy and the ban by the national association of Nigerian students (NANS)
“Mallam spicy is a very good friend of my and a colleague,” recalls Terry G with a nostalgic mien. “In my former residence he used to live with me in the studio and we would record songs and he was the only one I featured on my first album because he was a very good friend to me. I know him very well and do not have any conflict with him, but this is a mistake that I regret throughout my life because if I knew that song would become a hit, I wouldn’t have even done that song because it was stolen and later became a hit. That is why the question on our relationship keeps coming up. It was the biggest mistake of my life. It was just a free style with no bad intentions but with the market and all that, we have not gotten to a level like they do in the US. We have no grudges at all and are just trying to make money but a mistake can create something.”
On his recent nationwide campus ban, he feels much of the reports had been embellished even after he had re-paid in excess of what the organisers initially gave him to perform at the Benin show.
“We all know how student shows are but you have to support them because they are your strongest fan base. We had an agreement for them to book business-class tickets and we missed out flight and the show because they didn’t book business-class. There is no musician that has not missed a show before and we made refunds after. Around 20 policemen came to my place a week later and I told them to go since I would report to the station at Ikeja later. The student expenses came up to over million and I paid the money because I did not want any stain. Right now, it is not my fault because I see no reason why I am coming for a show and they did not do the necessary things.”
The dark clouds seem to have failed in eroding his popularity as the singer still has fans that would even go as far as stabbing a club DJ on his behalf.
“I was at the club on the day of the DJ issue. I just came back from trip and went to a club to hang out. The deejay was playing the Mallam Spicy song and a fan stood up and told him to stop. It was a fan’s reaction and they both started a fight and I had to run away from that place.”
Terry admits to not being a runner. He argues that if he were, he would have packed it in during his climb to the top as a back-up singer, a period of glitches and rejection from those who were reigning then.
“These developments are not because I went through a whole lot to get here because people plenty wey suffer pass me,” remarks the former back-up singer. “The unexpected controversies are the one that come up more. The reason is because I am obvious and if I was not, there would be no controversy.”
With a new album in the offing and a band of future stars under his wing, he feels the best is yet to come for him and his future stars of D Money, Rakwell, I.Q and Prince Banton. “This is a new brand and we have not dropped the album yet. For now, I am obvious and I will use my talent to ensure things happen for them soon,” vows the ginjah projenitor.” Free Madness will also birth another sequel as if his words are true. “The reason why it is free madness is because it is freestyle and a madman does not have a bus stop because he keeps going. I am not mad but that is the orientation I am using for my music. When part one came, there was no plan for a hit, just like part two. Finally, I will do part four featuring top Nigerian acts and part three will feature the House of gingah and we will do it anyhow.”
The lewd lyrics also have the recurrent tunes and fumes of marijuana which symbolises many things for him.
“Marijuana means the highest because people that smoke it say it makes them high,” raves Terry G. “Fela was the highest intellectual and did so many things. He was not inspired by what he did but what he wanted to do. I am glad this impression works out and it is like acting but there is nothing like the real Terry G. This is my own Yahoo Yahoo. The hair is also part of it and the desire to make sure people do not get tired of seeing me.”
One cannot fault this enthusiasm. Ditto his hopes for clinching more awards while making sonorous tunes with Tu Face and Faze.
“Everyone prays to be successful in life and right now, I give thanks to award organisers. This is a political world and the highest award is from God because you can be disappointed by men. Sometimes you need to create an image and people have to see you for who you are. I would like my fans to have some patience because at the end of the day, they will see that I am versatile. I have produced for these artists but for now there is no song because I know I will always do something with them.”

SUNDAY TONIC


It is just a way of keeping fit during the week,” recounts my mobile host. “I do this regularly before going to the Mosque for my Sunday prayers.” He soon breaks off into a jog while others coming behind are either sweating or soaked. Such sights are not a rarity but today I am surprised to see a jogger being tailed by his ram which follows its running master dutifully along the Alaka area. The traffic behind does little to deter the dutiful creature which trots, stops and continues behind its owner who is bound for the stadium. Following closely behind this weird duo are a bunch of kids who cannot be up to a decade-old. Their tender ages have not deterred them from donning the toga of exercise or the sacrifices it entails as they jog energetically to the National Stadium. The venue might have been brought to its knees due to years of neglect, but it still retains tons of attraction for athletes and others who make it a Mecca of sorts every weekend. Gone are the football matches which made it the toast of league enthusiasts and club supporters, but that has not eroded its trait as a melting pot for sport-minded individuals who restrict their exertions to its concrete interiors. The practice is even more appreciated when one considers the fact that it has outlived popular weekend activities like the rested Bar beach Show and Sunday Jump which took most youths away from Sunday worship in the past.
Today is a Sunday, and if the stadium could be likened to a place of worship, it would be the largest gathering of people devoid of a pastor, Imam or spiritual leader. Still, it does little to erode the religious dimension it has attained in the metropolis as people come from as far as Ojota, Ajegunle and other far flung areas to be at the sanctuary of sports once or twice a week. There is no communion or tithes though, just a pot-pourri of selected activities that increase fitness while sustaining dreams of fame via sports as many of the disciples of this temple are either passive or active sportsmen like Victor, a footballer who is still nursing dreams of soccer stardom despite being way past the required age.
“This week’s training is something else,” laments the part-time barber. “Once you stop for a while, it is very hard to get into the drill again.” Denmark is his dream destination, and like other footballers dotting the spacious interiors of the monument, they are split into different clubs for this purpose. The unofficial sides are a leeway for catching the eye of scouts who liaise with their coaches to push them to limelight, a fishy process, but with likes of Obafemi Martins and other big names tapping from this age-old approach, there is still light at the end of the tunnel for the dreamers of all ages, whether true or false.
Presently the stadium is no place or swimmers due to the dismal nature of the pool but it will do for the duo of pugilists who are busy shadow- boxing beside the football training pitch. One invites me for round but I decline as I hurry to accost a popular home video star who has come to pump weights in a secluded area of the capacious grounds. I am not talking to the press today,” he pleads. “Let us do this some other time.”
As he struts away to find his imposing weight-lifting colleagues with colossal biceps, who are probably club bouncers by night, I bump into another stadium frequenter who has come to burn fat. Her name is Victoria, and according to this female with a masculine mien, she used to ride her bike through the Third Mainland Bridge from her Tejuosho residence before settling for the stadium. Presently, her preferences are for jogging and light football. The part-time secretary trains with the boys who could be of different ages, buttressing the title of it being the world’s number one sport. With the efforts put into this weekend ritual, expectations for a multitude of international stars cannot be faulted, but sadly, this is not the case as the early interest is not sustainable due to various reasons.
“Before graduation, I used to play ball at Evans Square and once we were told to jog from one end of the Third Mainland Bridge to the other all in the name of roadwork,” recalls a Benue-based manager with a popular international brand. “At some point it felt so stupid and I had to take the bus home.” This was the last time he ever tried such a task. But it has not deterred others or the weekend pilgrimage which is synonymous with stadia around the country. Consequences abound though and in a situation where exercise is not properly monitored, serious cases of sudden death due to exhaustion are inevitable. Other caustic episodes include degenerative bone disease, arthritis and vascular ailments that silently creep up on the human form with the passage of time. But for now, the saying “No pain, No gain” might be a popular consolation, even for furry ung

SIX STRINGS


Sax Appeal 2 was fantastic. Kunle Ayo feels so too as I sit with him a day after at the Best Western Hotel in Victoria Island, where he and other performers from show are waiting for summons from a radio station. The jazz heavyweight betrays no signs of fatigue despite a playing his heart out just a few hours earlier. Rather he seems to be bubbling with enthusiasm as we settle into a leather couch for the interview, and you could say he is full of joy, like the title of his first album which has been followed by three others.
“It has been good,” he recalls with a rub of his chin. “We’ve been doing it now for the last eight-years. That was when my solo career started and the acceptance has been wonderful. It did not come on a platter of gold, but I just think we’ve been blessed as God has been really good to us. We are grateful that we are where we are and the love we have for music has compelled people to warm up to us and we are grateful for where we are.”
Jazz flight is a trait common to him and his indigenous colleagues. With the Nigerian jazz crooner having little value in his homeland, an exodus of talent has nestled in South African shores where they manage to do their thing along with other greats from around the world. Nigeria is often considered as a hostile ground for the genre, but Ayo feels all that is changing even though hip hop reigns.
“I think appreciation for that form of music is only now growing to an extent where it is worth it because as a business person there must be a demand for it. The demand for it is not as great as that for hip hop and hip hop musicians are able to live the life,” he says with a quick glance at his phone. “It is hard to live here and depend on your instruments alone but I think we are getting there big time. People are just warming up to listen to contemporary smooth, Jazz and other things.”
He pauses to answer a call before offering a comparison of the Nigerian and South African Jazz scenes, and his observations whip up the usual problems sounded by other artists.
“When you live outside of Nigeria you find out that the residents can go out to buy your music and don’t pirate it or take you for granted. People outside appreciate you and that is why they say a jazz musician will play a million chords to two people while a rock, blues or hip hop musician will play two chords for a million people. I think we have a satisfaction seeing what people love what we do and it is more important than money but it is also very necessary to sustain ourselves then and have a life, feed our families and have a home.”
Mixing business with pleasure has its perks for Ayo. Besides allowing him to thrive financially, it has also triggered comparisons with notable jazz greats. All the hype becomes significant when he adds that he only picked up the guitar a few years back. He was almost 20-years when he started playing in 1992 but would go professional five years later and tour with names like Lagbaja and Mike Aremu. With the influence from other pals like Femi Ojetunde, Niyi Adams and Agboola Shadare, he later realised he could do more than just play. This set the pace for a solo career which commenced in 2002, and fame, which has followed closely like his shadow.
“I am humbled to be acquainted with such names,” he admits with all modesty as he sinks further into the leather settee. “These are the guys I listened to when I was growing up and Jonathan Butler was one of those guys I respected a lot and when I had the chance of meeting him in California he was humbled. I was with him in his studio in Los Angeles and for him to request for me when he was in South Africa to feature on his song was awesome. There is no money you can pay for the value of that and I appreciate it since the love for the instrument is the primary reason we’re doing this. Not all of us are looking at the big money that will come out of it. It is just the joy of doing music and we do not care what the world brings. I am just very satisfied but reality sets in sometime and as an accountant having a studio is not the only means of living.”
Blowing his instrument is definitely prime pleasure and it has engendered four solid albums and laurels. But there are still some uncharted regions for him to tread amidst all the accolades and time as a model and broadcaster.
“Every industry has got goals and aspirations and even though you have all the awards and have played in all the stages there are still some things you look forward to. There is always that next thing and for us it is being able to reach more people and collaborate with them. There will always be more to achieve but it is two different environments and Nigerian artists do not get opportunities to know what is going on out there when it comes to music,” confessed the instrumentalist with another gaze at his Blackberry phone. “The ones that are really singing here have to start doing hip hop influenced sounds because of the pressure. People are really pulling towards that young sound thing.”
This has not stalled his love for traditional beats fitted over his diverse inspiration. He also has no plans of having full-time protégés but remains very particular about his role in the propagation of indigenous sounds.
“Asha is someone who has broken the barrier of playing to Nigerian crowds but her sound is even contemporary,” admits the instrumentalist. “You need to ask what has been happening to traditional sounds and that is what I am hoping to do by allowing people appreciate my traditional stuff. But it is the language. If I lived here and had access to traditional instruments I will use them. I think we should look inwards and try to use what we have, influence it and not completely relegate it to the background.”
A question on his homecoming attracts a bout of laughter which shakes his imposing figure to its roots. But it seems to be his itinerant streak at work rather than sarcasm.
“I am too young to think along those lines but the thing is does the home appreciate my music to the extent that I will be able to survive when I return? He asks. “We will try to build our base here even though we are over there. Kudos to Mike Aremu for Sax Appeal, but there aren’t many people that can sponsor such a show. If you go to sponsors, they will want to look at the commercial value so it is difficult. If we want to have it all the time, there must be someone who wants to sponsor without being particular about returns, In South Africa they have a culture of Jazz and Standard Bank sponsors all the time.”
The future is bright, and if he had to change anything, he would not as the guitar is home.
“I really don’t know because I don’t have what I want in terms of material wealth but I am so content with what I do and if I came back to this earth, it would still do it. We have not really released any of my albums in Nigeria due to the fear of not selling. We are going to start and see how it goes.”

A GAME OF NUMBERS


Monday is a special day for adherents of Monday Special Lotto as they scurry round the gamer and his machine for the latest numbers he has received from the head office via his machine with the dominant red hue. Some win while others lose, but the allure of easy money ensures they will still play another day. In fact, everyday is ambivalent for the diligent patron as a good eye for numbers might spell Christmas or Armageddon.
The agent is a smooth talker and explains to me that for a paltry sum of ten naira, I can win some lunch money. This amount increases to 12,000 if I can spare fifty naira. All I need to do is get a minimum of three numbers correctly if I play direct mode or its alternative. Such promises are not rare as they stimulate an urge to play the lottery as it is fondly called.
Despite the array of games available, most players fit them all under the Baba Ijebu tag which is handled under the Premier Lotto stable, just like Maggi seasoning, Macleans Toothpaste and Lipton tea which have become the generic terms for other brands of similar products.
Besides being synonymous with a popular lotto, the Baba Ijebu term also exudes the stinginess akin to the game. Most players associate the name with Kessington Bukola Adebutu, the sweepstakes magnate and owner of the Premier Lotto which also handles a sizeable number of Nigerian and Ghanaian lotteries. Located on Western Avenue, the corporate firm is a Mecca of all sorts for agents who spread the lottery gospel and winners who prefer to take their winnings there. The edifice boasts all the trappings of a contemporary establishment with a sizeable workforce that is busy with the daily routine, just like it is overseas. Sadly, a long list of meetings for those I need to see ensure I have to fix an appointment for another day, but triggers a wish that the uniformity of the lottery’s head office would spread to the players, as most are deemed as the scum of society. But Baba Ijebu is anyone and everyone who can afford to play, just like it is elsewhere. Agents are ubiquitous and their take from daily sales is 15 percent, a cut an Apapa-based agent describes as a meagre amount that is not enough to exist on even though the work is a form of employment.
“The money is not something tangible. If it were, I would have a stall and might not be one of those playing it, but what can a man do? Dare laments.
If Baba Ijebu had not been a non-living brand, it might have qualified for Nigerian man of the year a number of times due to its popularity which has also seen some musicians even croon tunes in its honour. Acolytes throng cubicles daily to pay homage by casting a sacrifice of numbers that promise quick rewards. Such obedience is uncanny and has become a way of life for many despite their claims that the lottery’s fist is tighter than that of a corpse. This is expected as it favours or breaks the best. Other recycled tales about the lottery’s perpetual winners are also a commodity peddled alongside a weird allegiance to the ritual of numbers. Imagine your bus ride being interrupted when the conductor suddenly holds up the journey by lying to his passengers that he wants to source for change, only for him to quickly play some numbers he got from another conductor he met on his route.
Such solidarity is also peculiar to the game as word-of-mouth spreads so-called “sure numbers” among adherents of the game of chance. With the ubiquity of stalls, players do not undergo much stress as agents are everywhere. Red machines powered by batteries are a common sight. Such scenes, alongside tales of recent wins of outrageous sums of money stoke the embers of addiction that has taken adults and children in its wake.
Amidst the glaring reality of the gambler’s rule which states that “the house always wins”, most still retain a strange hope of hitting big. Critics tag it a distraction, but for an unrepentant player like my vendor, it is just a plan B in an uncertain society.
“It is a way of keeping my options open and earning more cash,” he says while unearthing a pile of tickets from his pocket. He explains that playing daily with 50 naira is a negligible amount compared to the total profit he makes from sales, and his line of thinking is in sync with that of other players who feel it is a form of escapism from the credit crunch.
One consequence of the growing interest in lotteries is the relegation of pools and the business of fixed odds to the sidelines as the whole idea of selecting a bore draw from a medley of leagues takes the stuffing out of the whole process of numbers. The profit margin is also small compared to what the lotto can bring.
“The money is better than pool, and you don’t share the money with anyone,” claims another player who spoke on a condition of anonymity. “You bear your risks alone and can even source numbers, collate them and strike lucky. There was once I was coming from Isolo and got numbers off a car’s number plate which won me a large sum.” A lottery agent also claims to have struck it big by playing with a factory address in Apapa once. But these are some of the lucky strikes in a pool of humorous tales on attempts at replicating. And most interviewed players admit that their subsequent wins are not really like the first one.
“On a certain day someone came with two numbers he claimed were sure winners. I was not sure they were real so I played with ten naira and won almost 3,000 naira. I was scared stupid and regretted because some school kids played the same numbers with 50 Naira each and went home 12,000 Naira each,” added another player.
It all sounds so easy to choose numbers, but it is hard business as a wrong combination deals a crunching blow to a die-hard player. Since there is no Paul the Octopus to guide lotto lovers, the chart remains an indelible tool of any unrepentant lotto follower. The importance of the sheet is not toyed with as it is even stolen from owners. A popular one is a Ghanaian import with prediction charts for all games played on Nigerian soil as well as previous winning numbers from Adebutu’s, Golden Chance and the Ghanaian lotto. Their documentation of digits for every week from 1962 till date give a whiff of the arithmetic which relies on a sequence of occurred digits for future forecasts. According to the owner of a paper I peruse, certain numbers go in tandem, making it rare for one not to occur without the other. “For instance if 60 played to the centre in 1970, based on that observation and reoccurrences, of numbers which followed it that year, you can be certain to some extent that it might happen in the future,” he says. “There are also many plans and counting weeks, but one thing that remains definite are re-occurring orders of certain numbers.”
Classified as events, these synonymous digits are followed closely as a correct prediction attracts some extra cash for a cash-strapped pocket. A player can also choose to go direct or otherwise. Going direct starts with a minimum of two selected digits and each number fetches a particular sum. You could even go three-direct or more, and the more correct your numbers are, the wider your earnings. The other mode includes selecting six numbers based on the player’s discretion, and the more your selected numbers occur after the roll, the more your earnings.
But each number has a counter which can derail the road to fortune. With ninety numbers in ascending order, the first one to 45 digits are followed closely by another group of numbers 46 to 90. A number from any group acts as a counter when the numbers are being rolled at the head office, so if you are hoping for the number one, you might get a 46 or any other number stalling your flow. A brain-racking process of permutation follows, but it is enjoyable once you have a keen sense for numbers.
“It is very easy for me since I’m good at maths,” adds another source with a chart adorning the wall of his bedroom. “There are ways you can notify yourself once you follow weekly occurrences. Some even have what you call hot cakes, I recall an episode where the touted numbers were 15 and 51, a certain fellow crooned it from Oshodi to Shogunle and the agents went into debt that week because the numbers gave hints of what the octopus did at the 2010 World Cup.”
Such dreaded events are signs for agent to scamper as it is preferable for winners to go to the head office to claim their winnings. Other reasons to go into hiding are inspired by a customer losing his head, but amidst the tales of agents absconding with winnings, there exists some level of trust between owners of the lottery, their agents and regular players.
With the lotteries assuming a religious dimension, juvenile betters are also a common sight as they have started young, a pitiable angle to the whole game.
“It has helped curb some menacing events in society,” adds Deji, another disciple of the lottery, but the bad side to it are the kids who manage to play. There should be an age restriction to it really.”
Compulsive gambling is a worry though as Helpguide.Org describes it as an impulse-control disorder which sufferers are powerless to control despite the hurt it might bring to their pockets and loved ones. But it is not really a problem once the person involved can afford to play daily. There is also a loss of time as a bad manager of time will see valuable periods that should be spent building and sustaining relationships frittered away when he focuses on the lottery. “It is so infectious that you keep coming back,” added a veteran of the process. The sensible ones turn the money over but most don’t know when to draw the line. Just imagine a crucial game day coinciding with an important election. I am sure most Lagosians who play might not be sure whether to play the lottery or come to vote.” That remains to be seen, but amidst all the ambivalent comments, the lottery still has the noblest of intentions.

Where Future Eagles dare

It is 9am, and observers enjoy a training match at the popular Oko-Baba pitch in the Ebute Metta area of Lagos. The notorious trash heap which used to attract a swine of pigs has mysteriously disappeared and all that remains is soccer artistry and gusts of wind from vehicles traversing the Ebute-Metta axis of the Third Mainland Bridge.

The football stunts here are not akin to Lionel Messi, but some flashes of precocious talent still offer a consolation for numerous watchers who have not gotten over the woeful performance of the national team after their bout of self-destruction at the World Cup in South Africa.

Demola Towolawi of Amazing Queen Football Club of Idumota is the leading man of today’s training between two amateur clubs, and the former Nepa FC Osogbo and Insurance of Lagos player who is now a coach reeled out some names that had left the popular ground for greater things while explaining the whole system. “We also have a female team, but our boys club is Towotan FC of Idumota,” he said in smattering English. “Some of our players are now in division one clubs like Bayelsa United and Nassarawa. There are also some players in 36 Lions FC in Badagry. We don’t have anybody at national team level but some of our players have gone abroad.”

The development of the area is on the cards and it is said to lie in the hands of a certain councillor, who should play ball with a re-election year around the corner. It is no wonder a white man has been coming for pre-development briefings. But the foreigner has not been the only one paying regular visits as the fellow next to me hails from the Ajegunle-based Maracana Stadium. His purpose is to see his brother while exploring the possibility of nurturing football talent. “We all play ball daily,” says the fellow next to me. “We have talent in this country but all we need is a stop to all the glass house politics and a coach to harness our talent.”

Evans Square is five minutes away and the stretch of land boasts a new look after its development by the Committee of Wives of Lagos State Officials (COWLSO) in 2004. The marble plaques are discernible at every entrance alongside warnings against the selling of hemp. Sadly, it has done little to dissuade its consumption as the venue was and still remains a perfect destination for lucid interludes and daily games.

Players synonymous with this stretch of land lying between McCullum and Simpson Streets in Ebute-Metta neighbourhood include Obafemi Martins and Benjamin Chukwuka Nwachi.

Musicians like Bode Davis have also displayed their soccer artistry at a venue which has had a large contingent of potential within its sandy interiors. The love for football is a uniting factor but with money from other areas coming quicker than a club contract, many have been forced to squeeze their dreams into another lifetime, adding veracity to the Biblical saying that “many are chosen but few are called”.

“Martins had always been arrogant since the days he went to Europe,” added a source. We always knew he’d become a star as he exuded lots of skill then.”

Onola pitch around Taiwo Street used to be one of the most popular pitches in Lagos Island. Having birthed greats like Thunder Balogun, Haruna Ilerika, Yisa Sofoluwe and others in its pre-independence fame, the expanse of land is a shadow of its current self as there is zero development hat the famed site. Training has gone on earlier in the day and the current hours belong to a bunch of youths kicking around a ball that is gradually losing breath. There are two monkeys within a cage at the gate next to a lotto operative who diverts questions to a physical trainer within the grounds after intimating on one of their stars Salami, who played for the Nigerian under-17 team last year.

“It is not usually this empty,” says a physical trainer as he pushed weights in a space within the sandy interior. There is a grudge match later and most of the players are at Campos Street getting ready. And like the mini-stadium, which has received a Midas touch of the state government, they are also confident of getting Onala developed. “We are sure of getting this place developed as it is the governor’s area and you know charity begins at home.”

Campos is already brimming with activity as two Lagos-Island wards get set for a grudge tie. The stadium is also wearing a new look, and one can only marvel at the change that has seen the former pre-independence burial morph from a burial site to a mini-stadium. From its tag of Ite Oku (burial ground), a sixties cemetery which had the likes of Samuel Ajayi Crowther buried there and exhumed later, it became a football pitch for grudge matches, and now its latest status of a mini-stadium is replete with an imposing fence, plastic seats and artificial turf.

Alakoro has a good view from Apongbon Bridge and a frequent visitor to the island could not pass without a glance at the piece of land surrounded by water, development and livestock. Things were going smoothly for the wave of development that had seen the popular venue being renovated until there was a dispute over the measurements for the new pitch. I am being regaled by a one-eyed okada rider who has taken it upon himself to give me a personal tour of the grounds while the grounds master is unavailable. There are a few undesirables and livestock within the capacious grounds boasting the Lagos State colours, but it is devoid of the usual footballers and bike learners. There is also a concrete stretch on which the new surface is rolled up in a chained heap to prevent any damage to it.

So who are those who the eagles who have dared this ground, “I ask?

“Obafemi Martins and his brother Ladi used to come here regularly,” adds my impromptu guide with a sneer. We can actually lay claim to having made him.” This seems to be the trend in most pitches already visited as the Wolfsburg player and his elder brother’s names are being dropped with ease. It is possible as the footballer’s itinerant lifestyle makes him a visitor to different pitches as a rookie or experienced hand whose skills are for hire.

This makes him a member of different pitches before the big or match that catapults him to foreign shores and a lifestyle previously dreamt of. There is also the scout who is a frequent visitor to most of these havens to search for talent. But with the Nigerian scenario at work, most feel his presence is just for fun as he knows who he will select at the end of the day. But amidst this sad awareness, the boys still come out to play regularly.