Hiatus

Well, brethren, Ikolaba High is on vacation. You probably already see where I’m going with this. In case you don’t, (hmm,) well, IbadanKopa is a member of staff of Ikolaba. Since Ikolaba is on vacation, students and staff are on holiday. Therefore, IbadanKopa is on vacation.
As of now, IbadanKopa is already home (in his homecity), where Electricity is superfluous and he doesn’t have to do ‘ultimate search’ before he can charge his phone, a wonderful city where there aren’t vigils from churches (you’re not even in) to keep you awake all week long, where they have water systems, pipes, taps and showers in place of wells, a city where the Buses are yellow with Black Stripes, instead of white with blue stripes.
I wasn’t too eager to come to Ibadan, and now, I didn’t want to leave (ok that’s a lie sha). You do understand that I’m missing the place (small) already sha. Ilu Ibukun Oluwa, a place where ‘oh’ is pronounced ‘uh’. Oh well! As such, this blog will be on a break for a little while. To cut my short story even shorter, see you in September.
🙂

PS: In case the LGI is reading this, I’m just joking ‘ni’ ma. Travel ke? You don’t really believe all this, do you? I’m just being creative. Remember you told us to be creative ma.
😀

The more, the merrier

First, I would like to apologise for the recent dearth of posts. It is due to the sporadic nature of power supply in my area. At first, I was in denial (and I had to charge my phone at all costs, even walking about with my charger), but now, I have become inured to my predicament, I am now in acceptance, and as such, I don’t even walk about with my phone any longer. What’s the point? Who is calling me sef? Besides, 1 less swollen pocket equals 1 less target for a mugger.
But all that is beside the point. Let’s go to the business of today.
Preamble-lessly, allow me to say that the banking system in Ibadan state has one major problem – Too few bank branches. As a result, the available branches are always filled to the security doors at any given working hour on a week day. Since I don’t really go INTO banks (that much), I thought little of the situation inside.
However, the crowds inside have permeated the security doors and have now spread outside. The queues for cash withdrawals at ATMs are now unbearably long.
Today, after standing for close to 20 minutes the ATM gallery at Keystone bank, it got to my turn and the ATMachine informed me (very callously, I should add) that it cannot accept my card (since it was from another bank, I guess). The Unsympathetic no-feelings-having twit!
I moved to Ecobank, where I didn’t even have to bother going past the gate. There was no point. The line from the machine (in the bank premises) had extended to the gate. I waited there for another 15 minutes before I was finally able to withdraw money.
Now, with all my experience at ATM queues, I have decided to share with us, results of research. A sort of classification, if you will. The different kinds of people you meet at ATM queues in Ibadan.
The First is the Artisan, or the Trader. He/She is usually illiterate and doesn’t know how to operate the machine, and always calls for help, only touching the machine when he/she needs to enter his/her pin, with the assisting fellow doing all the work.
The Second kind is the ‘Soji guy/girl’. This guy is always smartly dressed, in his twenties and never utters a word to another person on the queue. The ‘Soji guy’ is on the phone most of the time. (If he is actually connected to a person on another line, I cannot say, for sure.)
The Third group of persons is Mr. Impatient. Mr Impatient is most often middle-aged, grumpy, always telling everyone how useless the particular bank is, or how he is just coming from another bank and didn’t spend up to 5 minutes. In short, Mr. Impatient lays out his whole day’s itinerary for the world to hear, without even knowing it. Ironically, Mr. Impatient always manages to stay put (on the queue) until it gets to his turn.
Also, we have the Techie. The techie always knows what the problem is. If someone has been in front of the machine screen for longer than 2minutes, he knows exactly what happened. From the back, without even seeing what’s on the screen, he shouts, “E te enter now?” “Se Mastercard ni card yen sha/ is that card mastercard?” “Are you sure you have changed your pin?” “Hope the card is not scratched”, “Try Access bank, they collect Visa there”
The fifth kind of person is Mr. Grouchy. Mr Grouchy’s face loses colour when a person decides to withdraw more than once at a time. “Oga, allow other people to collect too na?”
We also find corpers at ATM queues. (Yep corpers have their own category.) They act and dress very similarly to ‘Soji guys’ when they’re not wearing the uniform and you can differentiate them by the Kind of English they speak when they’re on the phone (corpers speak better) and the fact that corpers rarely withdraw amounts greater than N5,000 at once.
There are also ‘the Showoffs’ who withdraw substantial sums (20-40k) and have trouble concealing it. They flaunt it, count it or whatever so that you can know that, yes, we have money. (Their ogas probably sent them to collect it o) 😀
Very rarely, we find the ‘Classy Madame’ who comes in company of her PA or maid (as the case may be), not minding any other person, instead, instructing the lesser lady the entire time.
The Security guards (staff of the bank) may also double as ‘Techies’.
The Last kind of persons we may find, although, not exactly ON the queue are the supplicants (or more correctly, the mendicants). In case you don’t yet understand, I refer to the ‘fine bara’ guys. If you still don’t understand, forget it (you’re obviously too ‘tush’). The mendicant tells you of how he has to get to Lagos very urgently, and how he lost all his money, or was robbed, or how her child is sick and she must get drugs at once, or some othe sad story like that (you get the gist sha). The mendicant always stays outside the Bank premises in wait. (Personally, I feel it’s just such horrible luck. I mean, how else can you explain the fact that you get robbed EVERY SINGLE DAY? Brother, your case requires prayer, not money.)

Thank you for reading!!
🙂
PS: What category are you in?

Many Happy Returns

So friday was the birthday of someone very special. A very intriguing and captivating person. One so voluble and so articulate (with pen, of course). Not to mention handsome. 😀
In case you don’t know whom I refer to, yet, it was IbadanKopa’s birthday. (How could you not even know? What planet are you from?)
On Friday, I woke very early and I actually went out to watch the sun rise, for the first time, in Ibadan. (It was MY day, afterall.) All was going well. So far, there was only one problem – Phone battery was dead. So I decided to branch at Stanbic IBTC (my usual charging point, so sad), on the way to school. I actually had nothing planned for the day, and just decided to ‘go with the flow’.
After the phone was satisfactorily charged, I continued to Ikolaba. On the way, I switched on my phone and was met with a barrage of notifications. Curiously, there was no credit alert. (How very curious, indeed.) For obvious reasons, I decided to keep a low profile at Ikolaba High.
Rather unfortunately, a corper who had ‘diarrhoea of the mouth’ let it loose that it was my birthday. The wind wasted no time in carrying this wonderful news, and in no time, many students had come to ‘felicitate’ with me. So much for my low profile.
All sorts of request started trooping in. From normal ones like, “Uncle, you will buy food for us o!”(Notice that it is ‘you will’, not ‘will you’.) to not-so-normal ones like, “Uncle, buy epa for us”. Others said, “Uncle, it’s coke me I want drink”. Still, some requested the unrequestable. “Ah, uncle, today is your ‘buyday’? Ah, you will Shaye for us O! A ma shayo l’eni”. SS1 Students! (No be me go buy ‘shayo’ for you, go and tell your father to buy shayo for you.) After a while, my wallet got very lean indeed, and I started wondering if I was a birthday boy or Santa Claus. Didn’t celebrants actually GET stuff on their birthdays?
A student asked me to buy “KFC” for her. (Whether she wanted the whole restaurant, I don’t still understand). Of course, I didn’t buy “KFC” for her, but I decided then, to visit the KFC restaurant and see how the place looked. So, after school, I went with peeps to ‘KFC’. The chicken was really nice actually, but the place was quite small, with only about 6-8 tables and people kept intruding in others’ spaces.
We finished our business at KFC, Bodija, and without thinking, I decided to visit UI (well, the UI Zoo actually). I heard the place was quite close, plus I’ve always wanted to see UI for my self and see what Her students are so proud of. On getting to UI, I was a tad disappointed. Having heard so much about it, it failed to impress.
Yes, it was big, and yes, it’s the first University, and yes, they tried beautifying it. Still, the beautification did nothing to ameliorate the antiquated look of buildings and the university environment, in general. (I mean, what’s the point of still keeping a gigantic clock on your senate building if it’s missing the minute hand and doesn’t work any longer?) And I probably shouldn’t forget to add the way the UI students kept staring at us,like we came from another planet (I can’t blame them though. Swag is probably illegal in their school, anyway).Don’t mind me jare. Maybe I was just hallucinating. (Or was I?)
So we got to UI Zoo, and yeah, it was Ok. We saw a lion, a giraffe, lots of weird-looking birds, snakes, and an Eland (I had previously never seen an Eland before. It’s like a wild version of a cow with spikes on it’s back). We saw Chimpanzees, Baboons, monkeys and other sick-looking primates. Normal zoo stuff.
Finally, I went to Shoprite Dugbe, where I bought almost nothing after walking about, then I saw a movie.
In all allawee took a serious hit to the lungs. How did my day go? Yeah, it was ok. Could have been better though.
Thanks for visiting!!!
😀

Penitentiary trippin’

Today, we (members of the NYSC Social Syndicate group, Ibadan North) decided to visit the Agodi Prisons. We went in company of our LGI (Local Government Inspector).
When we got to the place, there were 3 checkpoints (before the main entrance) which were all heavily guarded by smartly-kitted and armed-to-the-teeth policemen and soldiers (Military Police, lol) wielding such awe-inspiring weapons, that you just realize how true it is that the heart of man is desperately wicked. (Why else would anyone think of creating such destructive instruments for use against his fellow man?). Some of the guns could blow a see-through hole (of significant diameter) in a person’s skull.
(Back to the story)
Clearing all security checks, we got to the main entrance (with everyone alive, I should add). The main entrance was also sort of a waiting room bounded at the ends by 2 huge iron (or some other metal) doors with padlocks (that looked as ancient as ibadan itself.) At the Entrance/waiting room, we were orientated about how to behave ( a mini-seminar in its own right) and we were instructed not to take anything from the prison(ers) and not to give anything (save speeches). I learnt that the prison was established in 1984 – a thing of some sort of pride for the head warden who was addressing us. (Apparently, crime started in 1984 in Ibadan, duh!) We learnt that the prison housed both convicted felons and persons awaiting trial, male and female. We were then instructed to drop all our bags, books,phones and cameras (sadly). We were assigned a guide who was to show us around and only with whom, we were to communicate.
After orientation, it was time. We solemnly passed the 2nd door, which instantly led us into another world.
We saw a self-sustaining community of people clad in blue tops and shorts, a cornucopia of activity really. Some where chatting, some jesting, some washing, a few were doing some form of craft, yet others were just surprised to see us, in our uniforms, and our number. We passed a series of low maze-style fences and could not help but notice the out-of-date-but-still-exotic Portuguese-style architecture. Again, it was a different world entirely. We were in the male prison. We saw old and young, dark and fair, humans, not different from the fellow you sat next to in the bus, thin and fat.
The prison premises were noticeably clean and smell-free. I noticed a gigantic water tank (donated by a reverend, whose name I can’t remember now.
Our first port of call was at the Liberty Chapel (which was inaugurated by Pastor E.A. Adeboye) where we were hosted to an impromptu service (put together for us). The Liberty chapel (a much needed and very valuable inspiration or illusion, however you see it) is no different from any other church in the ‘free’ world. It has an aesthetically astonishing podium, a glass pulpit, rugs on the floor, drum sets, speakers, calendars and clocks. It is a large hall, well-ventilated, even housing two television sets.
During the service, a number of Corp members exhorted the inmates (almost turning it into a competition where everybody wanted to talk, however irrelevant their points where). Prisoners were advised not to be discouraged by their present predicament, to live holy lives, to gain valuable trade and craft skills, education and so on.
Service took an interesting twist, however, when one of the prisoners decided to address corp members and he spoke at length, advising us not to take temptation, however little, lightly, but to flee from all appearances of same. He explained that most inmates were not arrested for their first and most trivial offences, and they kept on committing these ‘small offences’ until they were finally nabbed by the long arm of the law.
Due to some reasons unknown to us, the Liberty Chapel turned out to be our (my) only port of call at the Agodi Prisons Service, as we were hastily dismissed from the male prisons and not shown any further. A few female corp members, however, went to check out the female prison(ers) very briefly.
In all, it was a touching experience.
Check out the few pics I was able to snag.(They’re not much since cameras were actually seized).

Have fun checking them out!

(PS: there was supposed to be a group photo, but Oye, the ‘bighead’ I gave my phone to was just fidgeting with the camera, snapping imaginary pics /:) )

Trapped in the Library

So today, I decided to record the marks of students (whose scripts I had previously marked). I started a bit late (towards closing time) and decided to stay on, even after closing, to complete the task (once and for all), instead of taking the work home with me. With luck on my side, I could submit today and forget Ikolaba entirely (well, for 6 weeks).
At closing (2pm), fellow corpers told me to take the work home, that the skies were muddling, that it was about to rain, but I refused and continued what I was doing (me and my ‘stronghead’ together).
When I finished (around 2:30pm), it was lightly drizzling, so I decided to wait it out, myself and a couple of students who were trapped.
An hour passed. The light drizzle turned a turbulent torrent. (today, Ibadan showed its true meteorological colour and proved that it was indeed a tropical rainforest clime zone. The rain wasn’t the kind of coastal, wind-blown rainfall that subsides in less than an hour, the kind that falls in Lagos. It was the kind that fell as if a pressurized container had just been shot and was spraying contents indiscriminately, as if someone had turned on a hose with a barrel, that extended kilometers in diameter, for a nozzle.) This was when I realized that “E don happen!”.
I was now faced with 2 choices. To wait for the rains to subside, or to brave the odds and step out in the rain (not to mention risk a possible ‘Mudwater Bath’).
I chose to ‘coward’ the odds and stay put . I figured the rains would simmer down by 4pm (or thereabout). My students too stayed put, for reasons unknown to me. They had, afterall, finished their exams and had enough time to play and were in no hurry to get home. Some went out to ‘rainbathe’, some to play football, and others to do similar nonsensical stuff. Still, others sat in the library, sang, drummed and danced.
After exhausting all ideas of things to do, they turned to me. I was the only ‘thing’ they hadn’t played with in the Library. Thus began my ordeal, and my, was it grueling! (Lol.) They started asking me all sorts of questions: “Uncle, can you sing?”, “Master, do you have a girlfriend?”, “Uncle, oya dance for us now?”, “Uncle, please snap us”, and so on.
There were no ‘hot rods’ around, I had already finished recording their scripts (so I couldn’t threaten them with that either) and it was too bad we (corpers) aren’t allowed to punch students (lol).
Don’t mind me, ‘o jare’! It was a wonderful time with my students and we sort of bonded 😀

Check out pics from my ‘ordeal’ (our makeshift photo session, lol) below.

(By the way, I left school by 6:30pm and ended up taking the work home with me when there was nobody to submit to.)

Thanks for visiting!

A plea to the gods

It’s that time of term again. The season of completely exhausting the ink in a red biro. Yep, It’s post-exam script-marking time.
The exams were no different from the C.A. Test and there was, (as in the CA,) in plentiful supply, the now-hackneyed grammatical blunders and the quotidian dose of arrant nonsense.
In this plethora of errors, there was (belonging to a certain student) a group of errors which stood out, like light from beacons in the distance forcefully piercing through the eerie darkness of midnight. One couldn’t overlook them, however hard he tried.
I will try to explain two of his errors.
The first was when he was asked to give the equation for aerobic cellular respiration. (Now the correct answer is C6H12O6+6O2 —> 6H20+6CO2+Energy.) My guy couldn’t be bothered with chemical formulae. (Ain’t nobody got time for that.) He would go on to explain the equation (how he felt it should be). His answer: “Aerobic respiration is when the thing gets the nutrients require to be complete of a turgid mitosis.” How Ibadan’s very own Einstein managed to integrate elements of cellular respiration, nutrition, osmosis and growth in a single sentence, I may never know.
The second was when he was asked to state 5importances of food. He wrote “1. Amala, 2. Yam and Egg, 3. Ship 4. Aeroplane 5. Car”. You don’t understand? Welcome to the club.
I have come to the obvious conclusion that it can only be a handiwork of the gods.
I hereby use this medium to appeal. If you’re friends with the gods, please help me placate them. Tell them my student is very sorry and that he will never repeat his atrocious offence(s). Please don’t forget to tell them to leave him alone (which is most important). Thank you for your anticipated cooperation.

Overall, the students fared very well. The average mark was 48 and the class highest had a score of 67 marks, out of 70.

End.

The Power Struggle

Welcome.

In this post, Electricity will be referred to as light, Electricity Generating set will be referred to as gen, and PHCN will be referred to as NEPA.

Ok. Now to business.

To say the light situation in Ibadan (well, in Academy area of Iwo rd, where I stay) is execrable would be nothing short of a gross understatement.
I had initially tried adapting, but as of now, I can’t take it anymore! Had I not charged in Papa Favour’s apartment yesternight, I wouldn’t even be able to publish this post.
We haven’t seen light since last week Wednesday and I’m sure whenever it decides to visit, it’ll probably just say hello and leave immediately (maybe it doesn’t like our area).
It’s another ‘wahala’ when rain falls, however light the showers. At Academy, we pray for rain not to fall because if it does, a Nepa transmission pole is sure to fall, disconnecting wires leading to other poles in the area (so, no light for everybody).
Mama (my Landlady) has already implored me to buy a coal iron, to use in Ironing my clothes, a suggestion to which I sweetly replied, “Thank you ma, maa ma ro”. Coal iron ko, petrol iron ni. The VP (my 2nd mummy) at Ikolaba High School is always asking me why I keep wearing Polo T-shirts, to which I keep responding, “I like them ni ma”. (You want me to be wearing rough shirts abi?)
One Saturday, after suffering from an overdose of ennui resulting from ‘powerlessness’, I decided to take matters into my own hands (Enough is Enough!) and I strolled down Iwo road, charger in hand (I had become a typical BB addict), looking to charge my phone anywhere (at any cost!). My phone had been dead for four days (Kilode!). I found a cyber-cafe where the gen was on. Not wanting to embarrass myself, I proceeded to buy ‘time’, 1hr, at N250, and proceeded also to charge my phone at a nearby wall socket. The attendant suddenly started screaming like a deranged fellow, “we don’t allow charging here o!). In my mind I was like, “E be like say this one dey craze!” I gave him his ‘nonsense time’ back and continued my electricity hunt. After a very long walk down the road, I finally found a barbershop where the gen was on. (Hallelujah!) Having no hair to cut, I swiftly resorted to fawning. “Chairman, how far? This your shop nice o! You dey cut hair?” (One of my stupidest questions till date.) “Ah you dey sell film too. Ah, make I check. See all this nice nice films sha. Abeg, I fit charge as I dey check?” And so, I charged on Saturday.
On Tuesday again, I started feeling withdrawal symptoms again, having been isolated from the world, again. I decided to charge, again. So, I closed early at Ikolaba (around 12pm) and started to traverse Iwo rd again. While still thinking of how to move forward, I saw in the not-so-distant distance, the bank that’s ‘moving forward’ (Stanbic IBTC). I decided to wing it. I went in and found a socket and started charging. Apart from the cashier who continued eyeing me wickedly throughout the 2hrs I comfortably sat pinging and laughing, there weren’t any problems. She couldn’t do anything really. I held a deposit slip in hand the entire time.
The funny thing actually is that the people in my area don’t even seem to care. It’s not like they’re really using the light (sef). If anything, our power travails might even be a good thing-a reduction in NEPA bills. Most of them have no tangible electronics to speak of and there’s really only 1 sensible TV station, galaxy (excluding BCOS & NTA). For majority of the children, the only importance of electricity is the lighting of a bulb. Up Nepa! As a result of all these, most people cannot understand my craze for light.
I hope someone with enough ‘power’ to effect a change in the light situation in my area comes along quickly (cuz e dey pepper me seriously!).
But until then, the power struggle continues. Aluta Continua!!!

Thank you for taking the time to visit.
🙂

Lord of the Rods

Previously, I was not a fan of canes. I considered corporal punishment a very wicked act, an atavism, if anything, and a very anachronistic act in this present day.
Now I know better (and I have since become an apostate of my anti-caning principles).
In my continuing stint at Ikolaba High, where I deal with the most obstreperous set of students, a reversion to primitive punitive measures is more than appropriate and I have developed a taste in canes. I am now sort of a cane connoisseur, if you will.
Pictured above are five of my most preferred hot rods.
At the extreme right, we have the cane known as the ‘pankere’. The Pankere is useful for taming the ‘young and restless’ (not to mention greatly stubborn). It is used on students in Junior school.
2nd to the right is the terse cane (Just named it lol). It is short and direct to the point (if you know what I mean *sinister grin*). Also useful for the JSStudents who require minimal punishment.
The cane in the middle is the “Fonka” or “Tuka” cane. The Fonka cane is useful for all classes of students. However, being very light, it is only used to punish first-time offenders or students at nascent stages of delinquency.
The penultimate cane (4th to the left) is my cane of first choice. Being firm and non-vacillating, it is useful for all classes of students too. (I haven’t thought of a name for it yet so let’s just just stick with ‘perfect’ cane.)
Finally, we see the cane at the extreme left. I refer to this work of art as the ‘Ogbunigwe’ or the ‘destroyer’. Being rigid and unwavering, it is most useful for senior and very hardened students. It makes penitent even the stoniest of hearts. This is the rod of last resort.
All these being said, I must make it known that I take no delight in flogging (hand dey always pain me sef), and while I try as much as possible to avoid it, caning is mostly ineluctable.
😀

The Ibadan Anthem

Today, on the assembly ground, after the national anthem and school anthem, I heard students chanting another song. Having never noticed this before, I decided to inquire. After research, I found out that they were singing Ibadan’s Anthem.
One thing to know about Ibadan people is that they are very proud of their heritage. (They even went as far as composing an Anthem for their town).
I decided to ask one of the students to recite it for me, and I consequently penned it.
Here it is:
Ibadan Ilu Olu Oke
Ilu Ibukun Oluwa
Oluwa seun Oni’bukun
Fun Onile at’alejo
Eho, Eyo, ke si gbe’rin
F’Ogo f’Olorun wa l’Orun
Ibukun ti Oba giji
Wa pelu re wo Ibadan.

(Ilu Ibadan to gba onile t’alejo, yio gbe gbogbo wa o!)

Let me try translating:

Ibadan, the town of the Most High
Town of the Almighty’s blessings
Thank God, who blesses
Indigene and Foreigner
Shout, Celebrate and Sing
Give glory to God in heaven
Blessings of the Most High
Be with you in Ibadan

(Ibadan, accomodating to indigene and foreigner, will uphold us all!)

That’s it!

If allawee no dey, yawa go dey

Word of allawee spreads, among corp members, faster than wildfire in a savanna grassland. When your peers receive allawee and you don’t, it is only consequential that you become morose.
So we heard (all, well most of, the corpers in Ikolaba) that corp members in other schools had started receiving State allawee since last week. Logically, this morning, spirits were more damp than a steeped towel. Someone thought it wise to ask the principal about the discrepancy, a man who in turn directed us to the accounts clerk, who told us to go (at once!) to the TESCOM (the Education ministry in Oyo) to lodge our complaints).
As if by contagion, alacrity started infecting each one of us, one after the other and we all decided to leave school (together) to go to Leaf Road (Journey of life). We passed Secretariat, Agodi, Mokola, Dugbe and we finall got to the office, where we were informed that the board does not accept complaints on Mondays (what?!!). After much begging and cajoling (ibadan people like you to beg them ehn??!!) They finally ceded and allowed us lodge complaints and write account numbers and other relevant stuff. They told us that they could only afford 4,000 as opposed to the 12,000 they owed.(Some eyes instantly turned red.) As for me, I thought, 4k na money. Just pay me and don’t let my cross-country tour be in vain.
We finished our business at the board early and decided it was still too early to go back to school. Why not take in the sights? After all, we had ‘travelled’ this far. And so, our protest march became an extemporaneous sight-seeing spree. We visited the Ibadan tennis club, the Town house, the Olubadan sports centre, Cocoa house, Koko Dome, even shoprite. We couldn’t really shop at Shoprite because we were allawee-less, but it was a good thing we went with our eyes and we really fed them.
What was probably weird about our tour of the town was that all of this happened on a monday morning.

Check out pics below: