Off Business-Turf
SIAKA MOMOH
I was a terror in the village. How? I was the headmaster’s ‘son’. The headmaster was law in the village. He was highly revered and feared somehow, by all and sundry. He was a lord sort of. And by extension, Siaka, his ‘son’ enjoyed the same priviledge too. The headmaster’s name is F. Omo Okotete – Francis Omoerere Okotete, who is now of blessed memory.
The power that Nero wielded (this was a name that the trio of Siaka, Fidelis and Ambrose – all of us his sons – conspiratorially called him because of his toughness – recall Franco Nero, you will know what I mean) got into Siaka’s head. Call it youthful exuberance. We had a dog named Lion. Lion was my arsenal (the Blues) – my weapon of war against co-pupils who dared not to show me respect. My popular mantra was Lion, cash am. And Lion obeyed my command to the letter. You won try me?
This was in the sixties in Oghareki, the other half of His Excellency, ex Governor Onanefe Ibori’s village – Ogharefe. Interesting names – both have to do with wealth – the first is Oghara (Oghareki), that has to do with market; and the second is an Oghara (Ogharefe) that is spiced with wealth. But where was the wealth? Where was the market? I didn’t see any of these – that was long time ago in the 1960s. But courtesy of Onanefe Ibori, Oghara is now a shadow of its former self. We can therefore say that Oghareki and Ogharefe are prophetic names. My people will say Oruko n roni (a name given to a person or place spells out the future of such a person or place.)
All I can recall was in existence then were villages cut off from Sapele, the real place of wealth then – not poor Ogharas. Sapele was it (guys called it ‘Safa’ just like they called Warri ‘Wafi’ and Lagos the dream land ‘Lasport’. Wafi, Safa, Lasport was the singsong of boma boys, what we call area boys now in Lagos. You can see that the area boy thing didn’t start today. Sapele was a type of Lagos because it was home to one of the country’s booming ports then. This is now history.
I can recall I fell victim to some area boys pranks in the neighbourhood of Sapele Port. They were playing cards. You needed to stake money to participate. I did with my widow’s mite and lost. Mumu me fell victim to smart street urchins. I wanted quick money and paid for my foolishness.
In Oghareki, I was king. Can you imagine poor me, a non-native, a non-Urhobo from Oduduwa clan lording it over sons and daughters of the land! The licence I had was the fact that an Urhobo man was my father in loco parentis. I get heart o.
But one day, I met my nemesis. Na common girl come show me. Shoo, oja rhewe (I suffered, was disgraced). She challenged me on the street – the road that leads to Ajagbodudu, a neighbouring community also caught off from big Sapele. I hope I am getting my geography right, because this was when I was in primary 2 or 3. I had all the confidence even without Lion. I was the Goliath, she was David. We engaged in the usual preambles before a duel – throwing abusive words at each other. We were not too far into this session when she suddenly stooped. I thought she was about picking up a wood or a stone. I was wrong. She had a strategy which was strange to me. She scooped some sand, and in a jiffy, threw it into her mouth, sprayed it into my eyes, and swiftly swept me off the ground. Before I knew it, I was flat on the ground. I was humbled. See me see trouble. Omoni me, Oja rhewe(My brother, I suffer).
