Jan. 31 .2016
[In the evening. The Oduduwa road looks deserted. Student 1 is seen walking past Queens Elizabeth II Hall to the Bus Stop. In his early twenties. He walks carelessly with an earpiece plugged to his ears shaking his head probably to the rhythm of what he’s listening to. He stops at the Bus Stops and sits down on the wooden bench. He brings out his phone and he starts pressing it. Three minutes later, another young man – The Spirit of Kunle Adepeju, dressed in Buba and Sokoto with a slightly bushy hair, walks to the Bus Stop and picks his seat at the edge of the bench.]
The Spirit: (Calls out to Student 1) Hello, brother.
(Student 1 already immersed in the pressing of his phone and with ear piece plugged to his ear did not respond. He calls out again, still no response. He then moves to touch him.) Hello Brother (Still no response)
(Sits down dejectedly)
Oh! These sad moments bring back memories
Sorrowful experiences that raped the vulture of his stylish hair cut
Sad event that dyed the star in the colour of mourning.
This cold evening brings back the memories of a riddle
Embalmed in the path of a stray bullet
This cold evening brings back the cruel memory of my sad transition
To this formless realm…
(He shifts back to where he sat earlier)
I can see again, the reality of my journey
In the image of the wandering goat
I can see again, the reality of my path
In the image of a wayward sheep
The helpless lizard on the wall of memory
Reminds me of my deathly plight…
O ma se o.
(Another student, Student 2, walks to the Bus Stop dressed in the same Buba and Sokoto holding a book title, “”. He sits between Student 1 and The Spirit of Kunle Adepeju. Opens the book in his hand and starts to read.)
[Sighs]
Even the old ones have once tasted the succulent side of life
No doubt the rags have once swam through the tides of admiring eyes
Time.
Its pendulum swings are erratic
These places have really changed from what they used to be
[Suddenly seems to notice the changes in the administrative block]
Oh! My God, what has happened to the Ivory Court?
What has befallen its intimidating height
What in the world has crumbled the pride and elegance of the Ivory Tower
Where were the premier historians? Where were the architects?
What were they looking at when this abnormality was enthroned?
This is a MISS-innovation
But who did this…?
Student 2: [Not looking away from the book he’s reading]The Great Oracle has done it…hasn’t he been adjudged to be the wisest of the gods?
The Spirit: [Surprised] You can hear me? Can you hear me? [Moving close to him]
Student 2: That is the order of the day.
The stories are getting popular
The tales of history ravaged by mortal egos
The narratives of excellent memories being constantly raped
By the phallic roll of “accomplishments”…
The Spirit: Now that the purity of the premier heritage has been stained
What are the premier minds doing? Is no one saying anything?
Student 2:
When the gown itself is decorated with laurels of dirt
How then does it proudly walks a town grimed with ignorance
It is a pity, the mobbish cart now draws the learned horse.
[He closes the book]
The problem is not that problems have waged war upon our household
But, the alarming ignorance of our plight is no doubt our greatest challenge
A n tori oja ja, oja ni t’a lo n ja l’eyinkule mi
We haggle because of the market,
Yet she hopelessly questions the noises in her backyard
This is our headache,
Chasing dinner plates at the expense of fundamental struggles
Stopping extortion from the students’ leaders is unconstitutional
While a kobo increase in the fees is enough to lock the gates.
We said, “Stop the online results’ leakage, it’s a breach of everybody’s privacy”
They said, “No, we like it this way”
We said, “Stop the breach, it poses a risk to your person…”
They said, “Is it because you are on a third class?”
We said, “Stop it, it’s a disservice to the Ivory Tower’s creed”
They said, “Who cares…”
An gba oromo adiye l’owo iku, o ni won ko je k’oun l’akitan l’oje
Had the chicken not been ignorant,
Would she had insisted on going for a picnic
On the day, when the vultures parade the town?
This is our headache,
The Union’s membership is what is wrong with it
With their two eyes opened,
They vote for beauty at the expense of sense
With their two ears opened,
They vote for jingles at the expense of message
With their thumbs intact,
They vote for sentiments at the expense of strength
And when the seeds of their votes are planted
And the harvest reeks solely of the forbidden fruits of
Mismanagement
Misappropriation
Corruption
Leadership recklessness
Administrative irregularities
And so on…
The students yet lack the will to chase their leaders pants down
To Niser Park,
Demanding a comprehensive report of their stewardships.
This is our headache,
Those that are too serious to care about who leads them
Those that rationalise abnormalities
The Stockholm Syndromed ones that celebrate mediocrity
Worshipping the students’ leaders for doing the least part of their job
Those that arrogantly proclaim, “I don’t follow UI politics”
To these students, Kunle Adepeju is just the name of a building
And they will ask, “Is he really a hero?”
When they have no idea about the price of death.
Ask them,
About the time when rights were slaughtered
On the altar of high-handedness
Ask them,
About the time when passionate youths
Fiercely chanted the flammable songs of aluta
Ask them,
About the time, when unarmed students
Courageously stood their ground in the face of silent guns
Please ask them where they were,
When the bullet of oppression
Heartlessly pierced the heart of a helpless student
Ask them if they know,
When Kunle Adepeju fell in agony
Squirming in the pool of his own blood…
The Spirit: Oh! Don’t remind me of that sad day again…
[Flashback to February 1st, 1971]
(In front of Hall One, students are seen gathered together chanting aluta song)
Soli-soli-soli
Solidarity for ever
Solidarity for ever
Solidarity for ever
We shall always fight for our right! *2
Chairman Mao: Of the greatest uites
All: Great!
Chairman Mao: Articulate Uites
All: Great!
Mao: Greatest Gbogbo
All: Gbogbo
Mao: Greatest Gbagba
All: Gbagba
Mao: Greatest da gbo gbo e ru
All: Da gbo gbo e ru
Mao: Greatest of the greatest uites!
All: Great ooo!
Mao: As we are all aware, we’ve all been on hunger strike for the past few days in peaceful protest against the malady going on in our midst…
All: Yes!
Mao: It is a common knowledge that the person of Apampa, the manageress of our cafeteria is an agent of the devil…
All: Yes oooo!
Mao: We all know of how she underfeeds us and thereafter take what rightfully belongs to us to sell to outsiders in Agbowo…
All: Oh! Yes, we know!
Mao: We told her and she said we can go on to do our worst!
All: Imagine!
Mao: We told Lambo, we wrote many petitions against her, we’ve done everything possible to draw the attention of the management to our plight…
All: Yes we have!
Mao: Unfortunately, he who has eaten dodo can never have the courage to tell ododo!
All: Yes oooo!
Mao: We decided to go on hunger strike, yet no one is bothered…
All: Abi ooo
Mao: Right now, the forces of Aluta have declared that Enough is enough!
All: Enough is enough!
Mao: We say no to Oppression! We say no Victimisation! We say no to high-handedness! We say no to Mismanagement! We say no to Corruption! We say no to Apampa! We say no to Lambo! We say nooooooooooo!
All: Nooooooooooooooooooooo!
Mao: Right now, we are ready for war! The forces of aluta is ready to shake this very school and we are ready to march for our rights. We are ready to sneeze!
All: Yes oooo!
Mao: Right now, I, Chairman Mao hereby declare war on all forces against aluta…
All: Yeaaaaaaaaaaaah!
Mao: Right now, we will start going to all other halls of residence to call our brothers and sisters to join this march…Enough is enough! Let them know that we will never take this!
We no go gree o, we no go gree
Bring back our food, we no go gree
We no go gree, we no go gree
Bring back our food, we no go gree…
We no go gree o, we no go gree
Probe Apampa, or we no go gree…
[They marched off …]
[Queens Hall]
(In front of Queens Hall, the protesters have greatly increased in number as other students have joined them)
[VC’s lodge]
(Giving out orders to a security officer)
Lambo: What is wrong, again, where are they now?
Security Officer: In front of Queens Hall sir
Lambo: Then, how is that a problem?
Security Officer: They are becoming violent sir..and if care is not taken they will go over to Agbowo sir…
Lambo: Nonsense! What the hell is wrong with these bastards…I don’t know, they think they can do just anything…Go to the DPO, go and bring policemen to deal with them…
Security Officer: Ok sir!(Walks out)
Lambo: Arrant nonsense!
[Queens Hall]
(policemen coming down from their van…on seeing the policemen, the students flared up and they change the song)
How many people police go kill o
How many people police go kill
Eh, dem go kill us tire
Eh, dem go kill us tire
Eh, eh,eh, dem go kill us tire
How many people police go kill?
(The students now moving angrily towards the policemen.)
A Senior Police Officer: Bastards, I am only shooting one. Hey, shoot that guy!
A junior police officer: Sir, I can’t ooo
A Senior Police Officer: It is a command, I say shoot him!
A junior police officer: Sir, ah ah, I ca…ca….nt sir…
(Collects the gun and shoot a student in the leg. Everywhere becomes rowdy. The students’ anger is now fierce and they are all charging towards the policemen that shot the student. Now afraid, the policeman shot into the crowd to scare the students away but unfortunately the bullet lands on another student)
Student 3: Ha! Another shot? He shot another student!
Student4: Who is that? Is he alive?
Student 5: Ha…Kunle…it is Kunle…Please help!
Student 6: Oroooooooo!
[End of flashback]
The Spirit: Oh! My God…O ma se o. But wait, how did I get to that place? Where was I coming from? Where was I going? (Trying very hard to remember) Protest? Me? But if my memory served me well, I was not a student leader…What happened? Or was it a spell? Oh! My God, I don’t even know…
Student 2: Kunle Adepeju…Hmmmm
Some said he is a hero, others said he is not
Some said he was a student leader, others said he’s not
Some said he was a freedom fighter, others said he wasn’t
But the fact remains that Kunle Adepeju was a student
The fact remains that he was a student
The fact remains that he was in a protest
The fact remains that he was shot
The fact remains that he died!
Yes, he died of that stray bullet…
But his memory lives on,
His memory lives on in our heart not because he is or not a hero
But because of his sacrifice, though may not be deliberate
Who would be audacious enough to offer his head to break a coconut?
Who?
Though he didn’t intend it but his death is a symbol that it could be anybody
His death is a symbol of our struggle, of our quest in
Attaining a better world for all students in the country
Yes, he died of that stray bullet…
But his memory lives on,
In the building we named after him
In the statue we built for him
In the initiatives his name has inspired
Yes, he died of that stray bullet….
But he lives on in our memories
However, it is indeed a great pity
That those who inherit our Union
Have lost the map to the promised land
It is a pity that they have betrayed us
In our noble quest for victory
Sitting on the chair of power
And forgetting their mandate to liberate
It is a pity, that our leaders have transformed
To the very image of the devil we hunt
They promised us a sumptuous breakfast
But ended up treating us to a silent dinner of empty plates
What have we done wrong?
The innocent lives of students slaughtered
As sacrificial lambs for our plagued cause
Are they not enough?
Or do we need to raise our voice to the stars
Before we get it right?
There is nothing to describe the state of our leadership
If not to say that insanity has waged war upon our Union.
And yet, they say, we will get it right one day…
My question is when? When will that one day of sanity dawns
Where are we headed?
If we expend twenty years
In gathering the ingredients of madness
Where are we headed?
If we expend twenty years
In effecting a full blown lunacy
Where are we headed?
If we expend another twenty years
In preparing the way for lucidness
Where are we headed?
If we keep living yesterday everyday
And everyday has no place for tomorrow
Have we not rendered our future homeless?
They said our future is in our hands
They said we can only win when we are conscious
And that we can’t be conscious until we get to the promised land
This is our plight
As we look towards the setting sun
Hoping for a new dawn…
[Stands up, leaving only The Spirit of Kunle Adepeju]
The Spirit:[Deep sigh]
It is a countdown to tomorrow
And each step away to my destination
Is a step towards the rebirth of freedom
If wolves gathered
To plan the bloodbath of helpless calves
My step is embedded in the clenched fist of struggle
When letters like arrows pierce
The hearts of freedom fighters
My step lies in the lines of enliven rhymes
I am the sabre of a blown wind
The lamb of a made sacrifice
I was the rat that unwillingly belled the cat…
It is a countdown to tomorrow
And each second away from sunrise is a testament
To the failure of those who ganged up against justice
Those who massacred questions in the temple of lies
Those who in the bid to cover their shameful nudity
Danced away to the market square in their birthday suits
Those who in hiding their fears
Summoned a tiger to wrestle the lamb to death
Every second is a testament against the pallbearers
Who in the process of paying the act of respect
Plunge a star into oblivion.
They are those who embalmed promises with the oil of silence
Those who buried the seed of freedom
Not knowing that we would rise…
[Rises]
I rise,
From the pool of blood to the festoon of flowers
From the low-spirited dirge to a thunderous applause
From the fall of that bullet to grace the smiling rainbow
I rise,
Through the years of mockery and shame
When the cry was silent under the cover of the night
Through the days of oppression and exploitation
When silence pays the obsequies of empty reverence
Through the times of self afflictions and map-less expeditions
When the blinds lead the failed procession of rights…
I rise today,
For tomorrow’s enactments.
[He walks out of the stage.]
[Lights out.]
