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Foreword For The Book: “Cast In The Same Mould”, Written By Bashorun J.K. Randle FCA; OFR
After five decades of an outstanding career which spanned insurance, civil service, Boy Scouts and community service as well as the establishment of a world class conference centre in Ogere, Ogun State, Olola Olabode Ogunlana had no qualms about uprooting himself and his family from Lagos in order to savour the rustic peace and sublime tranquillity of rural Ogere.
That gave him plenty of time to conclude that “Leadership is Stewardship”. He proceeded to deliver judgement on our nation’s predicament: “Not only did they (politicians) renege on their rosy promises, made while seeking the votes of the people, they also neglected their duties: the welfare of the people, provision of basic infrastructure, atmosphere conducive to good life and for business, security, jobs for the young ones, providing a buoyant economy and work, and thus ensure a bright future for coming generations. Instead, did they not concentrate their energies on enriching themselves, their friends, relatives and those with like interests, while piling up debts for future generations to service?”
“At the height of their wickedness, leaders in developing countries which had been impoverished, embarked on massive looting of government treasuries, which escalated corruption to levels hitherto undreamt of…. The third world so-called are underdeveloped. They are backward.”
“With so much land and human resources, why cannot such nations with essential prerequisites feed their populations and thus save the huge outflows in foreign payments?”
“Aren’t the high costs of debt servicing staggering? Why must developing countries be perpetual beggars depending on aids? Why should their citizens continue to suffer in the midst of plenty?”
“Perhaps the fallen angels who were banished from heaven and let loose on earth were bent on ensuring that chaos continued to reign on earth. A system which enabled a chosen and privileged few to perpetuate themselves in office with the right to fix their own remunerations without avenue for anyone to challenge them is iniquitous. The position is infuriating. I am sick to death.”
He became sufficiently provoked and restless. Consequently, he astonished us all by enrolling as a mature student at the age of seventy-six years at the renowned Buckingham University, United Kingdom to study creative writing.
Along the lines, his innate love of art and literature converged to produce a fresh burst of energy which has delivered stunning works of art in addition to cerebral essays, seminal lectures and spell-binding books of which: CAST IN THE SAME MOULD is the latest publication.
It is self-evident that the author is a bold story teller in the tradition of the griots (travelling poets and story-tellers) who have dominated Senegalese culture for centuries. The story (or more accurately several intertwined stories) is embellished with masterly linguistic ingenuity as a testimony of robust command of both English and Yoruba languages. It is riveting.
However, the purists may pounce on the seeming fault lines regarding the credibility (or plausibility) of the events around which the web and vortex of the book are anchored. To start with, only the truly committed and enthralled may possess the will and patience to appreciate the unorthodoxy of starting the story in the middle rather than the usual chronological sequence that would focus on a specific theme or plot and a tight rein on the characters as they evolve from fleeting intruders to mature elements who provide the anchor sheet for the intricately woven fabric and essence of the tapestry that have conspired to embrace Kole, Comfort, Alero, the Sage, Tolani, Akin, Dolores, Boripe etc. who may appear at the superficial level to be strange bedfellows. However, on further reflection, they are intricately woven into a web and granulated by chemistry to dazzle us. Nevertheless, the cynics may insist that it is all contrived and convoluted fiction.
What is required of us is a quantum leap of imagination. Where the author soars and excels brilliantly is in his acute perceptions of the spiritual dimensions of what nature has generously bestowed on us for us to enjoy without asking for anything in return other than to nourish it for future generations. Olola Ogunlana’s intricate knowledge of plants, flowers, fauna, animals and virtually everything that crawls, flies or swims is truly intimidating and amazing. He knows them all by name – in English, Latin and Yoruba (with Greek and Hebrew thrown in!!).
Only a very brave man would dare run the risk of incurring the wrath of womenfolk/feminists by declaring: “One object with the closest resemblance to a snake is a woman. Yes, the cow-itch (“werepe”) is another likeness of a woman.
The pivotal purpose of this discourse is the recognition of the fact that desirable as the company of a female is, it has its unpleasant side. Women come in different forms, shapes and sizes. Few gracious ones still exist, whereas the world has an abundance of the intemperate ones, the veritable termagants. Fortunate is the man who is blessed with the right woman.”
What we cannot dispute is the Sage’s verdict:
“I learnt a long time ago that man needs nature, whereas nature does not need man.”
Or the author’s riposte:
“The purpose of life is the constant appreciation of nature and her many bounties as well as the uses to which one can put them. That’s the work of nature for you. Nature is an artist.”
However, there is a caveat quoted from William Shakespeare:
“Things sweet to taste prove in digestion sour.”
What is truly breath-taking is the author’s grasp of the former beauty of picturesque Lagos which is sadly either all gone or has been supplanted (and replaced) by faded glory. The landmarks of yore – Dr. J.K. Randle Swimming Pool; Chief J.K. Randle Memorial Hall; Love Garden (bequeathed by Dr. J.K. Randle); Biney’s Zoo; The Race Course; “Toronto” playground; Swing Time Garden etc. have all been bulldozed by the Government!!
“This Lagos is a very interesting place. There is not a dull moment. This Lagos is a bewitching place.”
Olola’s account of what he witnessed and adored years ago is as vivid as it is captivating. In addition to his many attributes, he is clearly anointed with the power of total recall.
Strangely, there is no mention of the special music of Lagos – Sakara!!
The author qualifies as a quintessential explorer, intrepid voyager and courageous navigator, all rolled into one as he enjoins us to share with him, his revulsion of slavery in all its forms which has provoked Kole and Comfort to launch a robust crusade against slavery and oppression with Dolores and Boripe as unassailable reference points as well as inspiration.
“Again and again Comfort would ask herself – what is the difference, if any, between those cruel old days and now in the dealings between the modern developed countries and the underdeveloped ones as well as between the leaders and the led in the Third World?”
In any case, slavery comes in different forms:
“It is not a good thing to be a slave to the master called love. It will turn you into a serf to a merciless taskmaster. Learn from my experience. Be wary. Do not sell yourself to such an
owner. Save yourself from love’s agonizing pain.”
“All you desire will be yours in due course if you do not become a slave to your passion and the desire of the moment.”
“Slave trade – selling human beings like cattle and chattel; depriving fellow human beings of their liberty in all its ramifications. No one has any right to treat, let alone sell other human beings like cattle. We all, irrespective of skin colour, faith or race children of the living God.”
We should be thankful for the self-confession of Dolores (whose ancestors were slavemerchants in Bristol): “My forebears went into the Dark Continent to enlighten the cannibals and show them the way to a more civilised and peaceful life, we were told. Instead, my devout forebears ended up capturing the cannibals, like animals, to be shipped to the new continent. The poor slaves were constrained to labour and wear themselves out to provide the means to make life more comfortable for their masters, the good white Christians. The hypocrisy! The wickedness! What penance can purge them, of their sins.”
However, we cannot but share the guilt delivered by the counterpoise: “Yes, they, the blacks callously captured their own people and sold them into slavery. What is the difference between what they did then and what the present political masters, as well as other leaders in various developing economies are doing?” expostulated Comfort.
“Slavery continues to thrive with its many changing faces,” what with all the kidnappers and bandits in our midst! Aren’t most of the developing countries in a state of chaos?
We are left to ponder on the profundity of the counsel of James Emman Kwegyir Aggrey: “He called attention to the fact that unless the black and white keys of an organ are played together, harmonious music could not be made. In this regard it is needless to call attention afresh to the harmony exhibited by nature in all its ramifications: Accord is the salt of life and the earth.”
However, they appear to have missed out current powerful demons such as drug trafficking,
“419” fraudsters, money-doublers, terrorists etc. who are currently holding our nation to ransom. Neither is there any mention of climate change; Cryptocurrencies; Artificial Intelligence; transgender; HIV; Arab Spring etc.
At various points in the book, there are stylistic hints of “The French Lieutenant’s Woman” by
John Fowles and “The Heart of the Matter” by Graham Green who are the undisputed masters of identity and ambiguities especially in savage territory.
At the age of eighty-seven, the author richly deserves the awards and accolades which have already been showered on him in the past as well as the encomiums which this book will undoubtedly generate. It is the reward for his insatiable quest for knowledge and dogged pursuit of curiousity wherever it leads.
King’s College, Lagos is acknowledged with a backhanded compliment: “It must be a special and prestigious College (where there is a proper football pitch, sports field, as well as cricket grounds). Most of the boys are sons of the Obas (Kings), Emirs and senior government officials and the highbrows in the mercantile world. It, however has a sprinkling of boys from less privileged homes.”
Unlike the rest of us, he has redeemed himself in accordance with the dictate of late Martin Luther King Jr.
“In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends.”
Kudos to Olola Olabode Ogunlana for making his voice heard rather than remain silent in the face of tyranny and oppression.
His parting shot is as follows: “My young friends, longevity is the reward of having lived in tune with the Creator; never forget it. Nothing is by chance. The godless whose conscience is dead, who does not believe that God exists and has thus become wicked and perverse has no sense of what is right or wrong. Although the many faces of slavery have changed, the malignant disease is still virulent.”
The last word belongs to Jonathan Swift (1667 to 1745): “Vision is the art of seeing things invisible.”
Bashorun J.K. Randle, FCA; OFR
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