I wrote my latest novel at 85 — Oladejo Okediji

Oladejo Okediji

Celebrated novelist, Oladejo Okediji, in this interview, tells KAYODE FALADE about his life as a writer

Where and when were you born?

I was born in Oyo but I have chosen 1929 to be the year of my birth. My birth was not registered. But I chose the date because I was baptised in the Methodist Church in March, 1930. And on the certificate it was written as infant. I just chose some few months before, hence I chose October 26, 1929.

When did you choose this date?

I chose the date in 1947, when I was in Wesley College, Elekuro, Ibadan.

What circumstances surrounded this?

Somebody was born in our family in Oyo on October 27, and I felt I am older than the person, so I chose a date back.

Were your parents Christians?

Yes, they were Moses Okediji and his wife, Marian.

Did they have traditional religion background?

My family house is Ile Otun Bale Apaara. In fact, I am the current Otun Bale Apaara. In our house, virtually all the orisas (deities) were worshipped. Some people were adherents of as many as three or four orisas. At Sango festivals, they would be there. When the time came for Oosa Oko, you would see them. At Egungun festivals, they would be prominent.

How did you cope?

I was raised a Christian. My parents had become Christians before I was born; hence, they did not partake in the worship of any orisa. But my paternal grandmother was an adherent.

Did you follow her in the worship of deities?

No. In fact we ridiculed her; we were made to think our religion was better than hers. There were three of us; my sister, younger brother and I living with her in Oyo while our parents lived at a farm, we went to school as her wards.

When did you start school?

I started schooling in 1935 at Methodist School, Apaara, Oyo. I was there until 1941 when I left at Standard 4 which was the highest class in the school. From there, I moved to St. Andrews Primary School for Standard 5 and 6.

What did you do next?

I became a teacher. In 1944, I was in Fiditi Methodist School as a teacher. I wasn’t yet trained and that was why, that same year, I took the entrance exam to Wesley College, Ibadan and I passed. I was at Wesley College from 1945 to 1948. I went in as Elementary Training Class, but at the end of the first year, the authorities felt I was higher than that and they put me in the Higher Elementary Class which we called the normal class. It is now called Grade II. Thus, I became a fully qualified teacher in 1948. Twenty five of us graduated from that class in 1948 but only four of us are alive now.

Who are these?

One of them is Justice Wale Oyekan (retd) who lives in Ibadan. There is Dare Ajayi in Lagos and Sir Okunola Lasekan in Owo, Ondo State.

Where did you work after graduation?

I worked all over Western Nigeria but my first school was Wesley School, Ogere, now in Ogun State, where I worked for a year. In 1949, I moved to Methodist School, Itapa Ekiti, where I was until 1952. I was in Methodist School, Owo, in 1953 where I was the headmaster. I was later at Iju-Itaogbolu, then Iseyin Grade III Teacher Training College from where I moved to Lagos and got involved in politics. It was from Lagos that I moved to Ile-Ife, now in Osun State where I lived for 51 years.

Did you further your education?

Yes, I did a late diploma course in the University of Ife now Obafemi Awolowo University. I did a Diploma in Education from 1975 to 1976. That is all my academic life.

How was growing up?

I lived with my grandmother in Oyo, but I was fully involved in church activities. I was attending the weekly junior classes, Sunday school, choir, scouting in primary school. At weekends, I would go to the farm, where my parents were living, to assist them.

When did you marry?

I have been involved with some women; hence, I don’t want to talk about my marriage.

Were you also a teacher at Ile-Ife?

Yes, I was at Ife Divisional Teacher Training College in 1958. The Western Regional Government was expanding education, and they built many teacher training colleges. I was there until the college closed down, then I moved to the primary school, where I retired in 1984.

When did you join politics?

When I was in Iseyin in 1955, there was preparation for elections. Those were the days of Adegoke Adelabu popularly known as Penkelemesi. I went with him and the other National Conference of Nigeria and the Cameroons people such as Dr. Nnamdi Azikiwe and TOS Benson. However, to be more efficient, I went to Lagos from Iseyin to be more involved in politics.

Does it mean you were not transferred to Lagos as a teacher by your then employer?

No, I was not transferred to Lagos. I resigned from the Iseyin Divisional Training College and went to teach at a private school in Lagos. But then, in those days, one would be doing one’s work while engaged in political activities such as being a councillor, member of the House of Assembly etc. One would only be paid sitting allowances for the parliament sessions one attended. Then, being a legislator was a part-time work.

What motivated you to join politics?

As students in Wesley College, we were reading the newspapers like The West African Pilot, Daily Times, and others and we were very much impressed with Azikiwe’s lifestyle and politics. There was no (Chief Obafemi) Awolowo then. But there were people like (Akinola) Maja doing their stuff also in Lagos. But we felt that these people didn’t want independence for Nigeria, because Azikiwe was craving for independence. I was one of those who followed Azikiwe from that moment. Awolowo came in later, but I didn’t drop from NCNC into the Action Group but some of us did.

Why didn’t you?

I felt they were people who were not doing enough for our independence. There was a slogan then, “Self-government for Nigeria now.” I was one of those thinking like that. And the other party would say, “Self-government now, now.” In any case, I didn’t drop that stance. Then, came the 1953 problem in Oyo when the Alaafin (the father of the current one) was deposed and exiled. He later died in exile. That fired me up a little more. That Awolowo wasn’t doing this in his town. But I liked Adelabu. He was charismatic. I liked him until his sudden death in 1958.

How were you elected?

When I was in Iseyin, the man who was a councillor for Apaara was a stark illiterate. He came to me in Iseyin and noticed I wasn’t very prominent in the Action Group. Most of the educated people then were in the AG. He wanted me to come and replace him in the council for Apaara to have someone that could represent them and speak the English language. That was why I left Iseyin for Lagos to be with people at the head of the NCNC.

Was there no election?

There was an election. When the election time came, I told them I couldn’t be coming to Oyo to campaign. But he said they would do everything for me and that all I needed to do was just to agree to be a councillor. I agreed to be their councillor.

How were you operating?

When I became a councillor, I would come for council meeting from Lagos and sometimes, Ile-Ife. The minutes would be sent to me and I would find out that most of the things we discussed were not reflected. Most of the council officers and workers were forced to be in the AG. I felt that was not my way of life, therefore, I stopped in 1961 having spent just three years at the council.

How would you describe Adelabu and Zik?

I saw Zik as the leader, the person who attracted independence. Awolowo and others came later, and became his political enemies. I had a fixed mind and I was more interested in the party that had been struggling for independence all along. Thus, whatever the other side was doing was against my liking, and Adelabu was like that too. He never saw anything good in the AG. Ordinarily, I should have been in Awolowo’s group because he was also a Wesley College man, but I didn’t like anyone who was against Zik.

Did you have a personal relationship with any of them?

No, there was nothing more than the youthful zeal in me. I had an organisation while I was in Lagos. It was called Oyo Youth Vanguard. I used the word vanguard because the Vanguard newspaper was in Ibadan then.

How were you able to sponsor your Oyo Vanguard as a teacher?

The members of the group were people from Oyo in Lagos. To be a certificated teacher at that time was to be considered highly educated. Therefore, people came around me especially young people from Oyo. Members of the group contributed three pence each during our weekly meetings. The reason actually was that we wanted the Alaafin back in Oyo. Thus there was Egbe Oyo Parapo affiliated to Adelabu’s Egbe.

How did you feel when Adelabu died?

I wrote an article in the Daily Times. Most people then felt the death was organised, that it wasn’t a natural accident. Adelabu was coming from Lagos to Ibadan, when a van of the Ministry of Agriculture collided with his at Ode Remo, half-way to Ibadan, almost to the yard. Therefore, people felt that there was communication from Lagos to Ibadan by phone, telling them that Adelabu was coming. The ministry’s van, a pick-up, with only the driver in it, hit him. That was what people felt and I too voiced that.

When did you start writing and how?

When I was a student at the Wesley College, I spent my spare time in the library reading literature.

Which books?

I was reading English literature, Sherlock Combs mostly, D.H. Lawrence, H.Q. Wells and all the books I found there.

What about Agatha Christie?

No, there was no Agatha Christie yet. When I left the college and got to Ogere, there were no more books to read. Thus, I would go to the CMS Bookshop at Ijebu-Ode, and another in Abeokuta, it was then that I was introduced to Agatha Christie. Somewhere along the line, I felt I too could write. But in 1954, the Western Regional Literature Committee in the Ministry of Education, Ibadan advertised for anyone who could write in Yoruba and also write realistic novels (not the D.O. Fagunwa type.). I felt it was a good opportunity for me, therefore I wrote something and posted it to them. I got an acknowledgement and that was all. That was the end of the manuscript. In 1960, exactly six years after and at the approach of independence, I read another advert in the Daily Times asking to know where Oladejo Okediji was. I felt they wanted to use my book for something. I wrote to them that I was in Ile-Ife, and then they said they were trying to have a competition. They asked if they could use my script. I gave them the go-ahead. For another six years, there was nothing. In 1966, another advert was put in the paper asking to know again where I was, I told them I was still in Ife. They said they couldn’t find my script. Dr. Adeboye Babalola, later Emeritus Professor, but now dead, wrote to me that the script was lost while they were passing the script around for scoring and that Fagunwa worked on it last. But Fagunwa had been dead three years earlier. Babalola wrote, “iyan di atungun, obe di atunse; ya mura ki o ko omiran o,” (begin again) that is the source of “Aja lo le ru” which came out in 1969.

Does that mean ‘Aja lo le ru’ predated ‘Agbalagba Akan’?

Yes. I titled the one I wrote in 1954 Agbalagba Akan. But then, in 1966 when I was writing Aja lo le ru, I didn’t use that title. But when Babalola got that title and took it to Longman Publishing Company, he asked me to write another one. I wrote another one but gave it the name of the old one, Agbalagba Akan. Whenever I write I do not give my book a synopsis. I just give it a name that occurs to me.

How did you choose your setting and the concept of Lapade?

Aja lo le ru was set in Ibadan and environs but Agbalagba Akan also had Ipetumodu. Babalola was from Ipetumodu, hence I chose the place because of him. I was in the hospital in Akure in 1954 and some guys said they were looking for Dr. Olapade. It just struck me that the name could be used for my detective hero. Tafa Igiripa was got from the Agbekoya chieftain, Tafa Oloyede.

How did you choose ‘Idiaro’?

I was in Wesley College and the name occurred to me to use.

When last did you write?

I still write and another of my books was published last year. But it is not a detective type. I called it Aaro Olomoge. It was in line with Isaac. D. Thomas’ Segilola Olomoge which was published in 1929. It was about a bad girl. I wrote mine about a good girl.

If you were not invited to participate in a Yoruba reality novel competition, would you have written in another language?

I was planning to write in the English language because I was reading English novels. Fagunwa, then, was about the only established Yoruba writer and he was still operating. Hence, I would have written in the English language.

Do you think your writing in Yoruba limited your reach and the fame your works would have attained?

I don’t know. It is possible I would have been another Chinua Achebe, but that is hypothetical.

Did you ever try your hands on writing in the English language?

Yes, I did it while I was in Iju-Itaogbolu. I was writing, expecting that one day I would get a publisher. But it never materialised. I can’t even find the script again.

You have a deep knowledge of the Yoruba language which runs through your works …

I never studied Yoruba, but I studied it subconsciously in Oyo — going to church and meetings with my father and all that. But writing is different from having   knowledge of the Yoruba language. Writing is a gift. I thank God for the gift.

Did you have any personal encounter with Fagunwa?

No, I never met him.

How would you describe modern-day writing?

I have with me about 20 new novels written by people who think that writing is profitable. They will finish the book, print it themselves, take it to schools for sale, and influence examination bodies to choose them. I have never done anything like that.

Would you say you have made money from writing?

Definitely not, I wouldn’t be living the way I am living now if things went on well, and the ministry recognised the books and chose them for kids as they did some 30 years ago. Now, they choose the books of the people they like.

But did you expect to make money?

This money-centred type of life is recent. When I was in politics, I was earning nothing. We only got the sitting allowance whenever we met. I wasn’t looking for money; I just enjoyed what I did. I still published a book last year. I knew it would not fetch me money. But I know that it will be in my repertoire. William Shakespeare isn’t earning anything today, but his books are still selling.

What was your experience during the Nigerian independence? Have your expectations been met?

In 1959, there was a general election that was a farce. It was then my eyes began to open to see that politics was not what I thought it should be. I realised politics wasn’t what it looks like. The North was monolithic and tried to wrench power from the British. When eventually the election of 1959 threw Awolowo down, I was a bit disappointed. I thought he would win and he and Zik would join together but Zik went with the North and that has been our independence till today. Till today, we have no voice as westerners. In Britain, if you see the way the government serves the people, you can only feel sorry for Nigeria. Now, our politicians milk us. That is not what I expected from independence. But, we have it. At the moment, I have no favourite among the politicians. I am disenchanted.

Do you exercise?

I walk round in the mornings for 30 minutes.

Do you have a particular diet?

I eat anything; I have no preferences or taboos. But the quantity of food I eat has reduced.

What will you ascribe your longevity to?

It is luck. Two years ago, I almost went away in a hospital, but somehow, I came back. I still went for a meeting recently; My classmate, Justice Wale Oyekan is 94, I’m only 85. I never planned to live this long.

How long did you plan to live?

I didn’t expect to live more than 70 years. But as God wants it, I’m in the 86th year now.

Do you still have dreams?

In my last book, I said if it is God’s wish for me to write another novel, I will.

Do you have siblings?

They are gone. I have children all over the place; a son in the US who is a professor.

Is any of them a writer?

Since he is a professor, he also writes.

Did you encourage any of them to follow in your footsteps?

You can only force a horse to the stream; you can’t force it to drink.

Has any of your books been translated?

Segilola has been translated into the English language by a famous female white writer, Karen Barber. She is a very good friend.