Fela and me
I can imagine the look on your face when you see the photograph of Fela and I on this page; what the hell is Jimi smoking? That question could only arise because I was sitting next to the great Abami Eda, Fela Anikulapo-Kuti. That was Fela for you. He affected those around him one way or the other. Fela’s life was about people, period; and that shouldn’t surprise anyone who has caught stories of his childhood in “Fela: This Bitch of a Life” by Carlos Moore.
My late father lived with the Ransome-Kutis as a student, perhaps something to do with some rascality issues at CMS Lagos; so, his father must have dispatched him to Abeokuta Grammar School to live with Oga, Fela’s father. He confirmed to his son later (me, of course) that in Oga’s house there was no discrimination, everybody was a child and student. And that was why, till my father passed on, he always saw Sister Dolu, Fela’s sister, as his own sibling.
Afro Spot
I first met Fela Ransome-Kuti in 1971. A day I will never forget; it was at Afro Spot. I was there with my mum and fela’s sister, Dolupo (mother of Frances Kuboye). Fela was in striking red and yellow and we sat at a special table. Fela came over and shook hands and after saying, “Give my sister what she wants” – he went on stage and blew our minds out with ‘Beautiful Dancer’, ‘Black Mans Cry’ and a track he never recorded, ‘It Is Time We Unite in Africa’. Sandra Danielle in her Nina Simone voice later rendered that good old jazz tune, ‘Sunny’. Then came Joni Haastrup of whom Fela said, “E just come from America, e dey wear shine shine,e go soon tire.”
That was the beginning of the bond between myself and Fela. No weekend passed without me going to Afro Spot, then Africa Shrine in Surulere, Moshalashi (Empire) and then Ikeja. I didn’t go to Crossroads, my father made sure of that. Fela had been thrown out of his house and declared Public Enemy; and my father, liberal though he was, made me swear I wouldn’t go anywhere near Crossroads. Since my father is dead, I will confess I went a couple of times. I can boast there is no Fela ‘sound’ I don’t know off-head. Even when I mentioned some ‘sounds’ to Baba Ani, leader of the Egypt 80 for over 25 years, he looked bewildered, given that he couldn’t remember the band playing those tunes. As for Fela, he couldn’t be bothered about posterity; he probably thought he was invincible. Fela couldn’t be bothered about many things. At one point, he didn’t have good instruments such that when he played in University of Benin in 1975 at a music festival of the then Klova Klub, Joni Haastrup pulled a bigger crowd.
All Fela’s fans believed they had a special and exclusive relationship with him, which of course wasn’t true. Fela to me was always in a crowd but always alone. He was Baba to everybody but Fela to himself. So rather than talk of Fela I will talk about things that happened to me around him.
Africa table
I remember the day Fela first played ‘Trouble Sleep Yanga Go Wake Am’ at Surulere Night Club. The arrangement was heavy that night. I sat on a big ‘Africa’ table for special guests with Femi Somade (Loughty) and others .As soon as Fela started the horn arrangement, up went Femi’s two legs under the table and down went all the drinks on it. Loughty was too excited as he couldn’t contain himself. He served round the table twice in quick succession as compensation. The Africa table! I remember sitting on this same table at the launch of ‘Roforofo Fight’ Fela’s first double album. I was then at the Evening Times with Toyin Makanju, my boss. Sitting in front of me were Chief and Mrs Olajoyegbe, owners of Jofabro Records, who released the album. I drank every big stout in sight and the cigarette in my mouth (big town) never seemed to burn out. Why did the Chief keep looking at me? “Nje omo Abayomi ko yi? (Is this not Abayomi’s son?)” – he asked me. “Yes sir!” The cigarette dropped and I headed in the direction of the loo and then the exit. The show ended for me, and for all ‘well brought up children’ then – you needn’t ask why.
The backyard
Another quick exit happened at the backyard (don’t ask what happened there).There was a sudden fire from electrical wires and then pandemonium. A fan ran for Fela’s sax and kept it for him (he was later rewarded). I thought I was smart. I jumped the high wall from the backyard and landed in ‘Area’, where queens of the night were ready to service prospective customers. They even beckoned to me, perhaps wondering if I needed to cool down after my ordeal. Minutes later everything was brought under control and I decided to go back. But ‘Eddie Lagos State’, a die-hard Fela fan and lord of the backyard, wouldn’t hear of it. He turned my palm into an ashtray to put out the ‘jerugbe’ in his hand. “So, na we wan die with Baba? We no fit jump wall run, abi? If them born you well, jump this wall again.” Thank God this was 76/77. Had it been earlier, I would have had Ateme, Roy or Eko to contend with. Those were the times Fela had well-built bodyguards around him; and Eko was known for his famous ‘Mighty Igor’ head butt.
Women
Fela was an entertainer in all manners possible. On stage, at home, in public, he was always entertaining. What most people don’t know was that Fela reacted to his environment. Go greet Fela at home with your babe and he would go, “Na your woman be that?” He would get up and offer a seat and drinks etc. Fela to me was a gentleman but his side as an entertainer always took over. I don’t dare recount in full Fola Arogundade’s story about once going to see Fela. He was ushered into the room and when Fela turned round to say ‘hello’, Fola thought he saw someone bent over. He didn’t wait to confirm but then he heard Fela say, “Abeg Fola, I go soon finish, I go come see you.” I remember when I interviewed Fela for my Sixty Minutes column in Vanguard. Half way through the interview, Fela just jumped up and said, “Disu, no vex, I wan go f*ck.” And off he went.
The royal python
This brings us to the royal python. Fela was heavily endowed and he made great show of it. “Wrong parking”! we would all bark at him and he would say, “no parking space, abeg.” I saw the royal python live! When he came out of prison I went to see him at Beko’s house. He was seeing off someone as I approached the house. I couldn’t believe what I saw. He had his pants on all right, but the royal python had slipped out of its lair. “Baba, e be like royal python don comot o!” “No mind am, my brother” – he smiled and put it back in. Fela had the greatest sexual appetite I knew, followed by two Egba kinsmen – one dead, the other living whose name I would rather (or is it dare?) not mention here. Could it be something in the Egba diet? But then, Fela’s appetite wasn’t just for women. Fela loved the weed; and I was there the first time he brought ‘Dunduke’ to the shrine. It’s the biggest weed ever wrapped, the end being about the size of a Coca Cola bottle, and seemed to match the 35cl in length.
Sounds!
Fela’s music was something else. You just have to give it to him. His music was, or rather is, unique and the lyrics thought provoking. Listen to the poetry in ‘Teacher Don’t Teach Me Nonsense’:
“Democrazy
Crazy demonstration
Demonstration of craze.
For all you non-patrons of the shrine: you missed hearing ‘Chop and Clean Mouth’ ‘Country of Pain’, ‘Football Government’, ‘NNG (Nigerian Natural Grass)’, ‘Condom Scallywag and Scatter’ ‘BBC (Big Blind Country’), ‘Movement Against Second Slavery’, ‘MASS’, ‘GOC’, ‘Akunakuna Senior Brother of Perambulator’ – and many more. Pity he couldn’t be bothered to keep them for posterity.
Oh Fela! I will miss Fela, I will miss him. You should count yourselves lucky there’s brevity of space here, or I would have gone on 16 pages and not run out of stories. I stopped watching Fela two years before his death when he started doing things on stage I couldn’t be a part of; but then, I love Fela so much I can’t bring myself to expose or criticise him. So, I leave the rest to your imagination…
And oh, by the way, what you see me smoking in the photograph is a cigarette. Don’t believe me? Sorry o, too bad.
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