The first part of this discourse was published in  yesterday’s edition of Vanguard
AFTER all, I was now a full-fledged SBB. Unknown to either Granduncle or Aunt, I gradually moved my belongings whatever they were to Aunt’s apartment around Decima Road. My next move was to go sleep at Aunt’s place without her knowledge.

My younger sister Olofagbo, who was then living with our Aunt, helped to ensure secrecy. Finally, the charade was uncovered. Papa Olumami read the riot act to Aunt Oleghenju, who apologized profusely pleading ignorance, which was true, although Papa Olumami may not have believed her. In any case, I had succeeded in moving back to my aunt. This marked another turning point in my life.

When I lived with Papa Olumami, I only knew that after primary school one could advance to a commercial college to study shorthand and typing or to a teachers’ training college. By the end of 1952, Aunt moved nearer Sapele city centre then, when she married Mr. John Okitikpi, a well-known public letter writer.

In his compound was a Yoruba man, the nurse at the Sapele GeneralHospital, who had several children, some of whom were my playmates. When one of his sons came home, all theyoung boys and girls admired him as he was neatly attired.

I found out that he attended St Andrew’s College, a secondary school in far away Yoruba land. This was the first time I heard about secondary schools. It was early 1953 and I was in Standard Six, the last class of Primary school.

My Yoruba playmates knew about common entrance examinations into secondary schools and, because they were aware that I was a good student, encouraged me to attempt them. So, I requested from my aunt five shillings to buy a self-help book and pay the fees for entrance examination to a secondary school.

I was surprised when three days after my request, Auntie gave me the five shillings. I was very grateful and quite excited.

The next day, I bought the self-help book for two and half shillings and had the balance of two shillings and six pence to pay for the entrance examination to just one secondary school. By this time, I had learnt about the three nearby secondary schools for which pupils took entrance examinations: HusseyCollege and UrhoboCollege in Warri and GovernmentCollege in a place called Ughelli. The decision about which to apply to was easy based on simple cost analysis.

The entrance fee to either HusseyCollege or UrhoboCollege was two shillings and sixpence whereas that to Government College Ughelli was two shillings only, twenty percent less. Consequently, I opted for GovernmentCollege and had six pence left, enough for six days worth of rice or pottage (poto-poto) during recess at school.

On the examination day, I hurriedly took a bath, wore my brown khaki uniform and rushed bare footed to SapeleTownshipSchool, which was the examination centre. There were many other young boys there, none of whom I recognized as we were asked to sit in the classrooms, waiting anxiously for the examination to commence at 9:00 AM.

We waited and waited.  Nearly three hours later, two men, the main invigilators, a European and an African came in with the examination papers.  Later, I learnt that the African was the Biology teacher, Mr. Sagay and the European, the Physics teacher, Mr. Stone, at Government College, Ughelli, and that the delay was because they had an accident on the trip from Ughelli to Sapele. Soon after their arrival, we were handed the examination papers. That was it; the common entrance examination to GovernmentCollege had begun.

I flipped through to the section on Mathematics (Arithmetic), my best subject. I found the problems tougher than I expected. I turned to the Language section, which was even more difficult. I went back to Mathematics and solved as many problems as I could.

Meanwhile, my stomach was churning because I had eaten nothing all day. I laboured on, going from the Mathematics section to the Language section and vice versa. Stuck between the growls from my stomach due to hunger pang and the unsolvable problems before me, I was happy to hear the invigilators order us to stop. Now I could run home to eat. But I could not leave immediately.

Each of us had to take his turn to get his height measured, give his age and confirm his name on the examination paper. I waited in the hunger-induced agony for my turn. At last I was next, so I dashed forward to get my height measured. I was four feet six inches tall, but I did not know how old I was so Mr. Sagay wrote down some appropriate number. I confirmed that my given name was Oritsegbemi and my father’s name, Omatete. Without realizing it, I had changed my name from Oritsegbemi Fregene to Oritsegbemi Omatete, which I bear to date.

I ran all the way home only to find that everybody was on the lookout for me. I expected that because I only let my sister know where I went.

Growling stomach

My aunt screamed at me so I showed her the various papers I brought with me. She took them and walked me straight to Mr. Okitikpi, who took a look at the papers and declared that I had gone to waste Aunt’s money.

Then he decided to test me, so looking straight at me he said rapidly,“Run Harry run, run to the river run. How many R’s?” I stared at him without the slightest idea of what he was talking about.

“There you are. I told you so. You have thrown away your money,” Mr. Okitikpi said. Meanwhile my stomach was growling; I was famished. Then her maternal instinct took over and Aunt asked if I had eaten. Sobbing, I shook my head.

It was late afternoon and Aunt took me away and fed me while simultaneously rebuking me for not informing her that I was going to take the entrance examination. Before the results of the entrance examinations came out a few months later, we had moved away from downtown Sapele to its outskirts, a place called Kpankpan, where a popular politician, Chief Festus Okotie-Eboh, built his residence.

By Ogbemi O. Omatete