School made an impact on this writer and notably too, the head-teacher at R.C.M Primary School, Koko in the then Mid-West State, in the decade of the 1970s. He was Mr. Aiyemobuwa and I remember good old H.M today for his very clean and most legible hand-writing. Such fine print! For a long time, I wanted to write like him. The verdict of the jury came out a long time ago: I did not make the mark.
But school was not always about fine writing. Before this had come desire, the sheer basic desire to wake up in the morning with the older kids, pick up your own slate and chalk, wear those magical clothes and go with them to the place they disappeared to daily, only to come back with stories of the exploits that had gone on behind you. But Papa kept saying you were not of age, as evidenced by the fact that your hand could not overstretch your head onto your ear. Now that was not fair!
Papa's transistor radio. Next to the copies of Observer and Daily Times that came into the house now and again (later Drum magazine was added), the small battery-powered gadget was our authoritative window to news of the world. And it was on it on that fateful February 13 day that we heard news of the Dimka coup and the tragic death of the second Nigerian leader that I grew up to be conscious of: General Murtala Ramat Muhammad.
I remember that day as if it was yesterday, as Papa lay on the reclining chair under the lemon tree and was himself jolted by the martial music that was heralding news of the coup d’etat in faraway Lagos. Quiet, he shouted. And from both his tone and facial expression, we all knew something was amiss. We had passed that road before. With General Gowon in July 1975.
Even more than tales of coups and coupists, a writing culture begins with a story culture. For this writer, it goes back to the occasional visits of Olemajogume, the wizened old man, who would call on Papa now and again and on those visits ask me how school was going.
excerpted from 'Nigerian Book and Print Culture: Reflections of a participant-observer' by Richard Mammah (unpublished)
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