“Esu Stadium”

Methodisti lo je'ko alagbon lo k'ewe, Idi ope lo sa'le je”

That's a song of victory, if you don't know. It simply means “Methodist ate the pap, Alagbon packed the wraps while Idi Ope picked the crumbs.”

It is a thing of pride to have graduated from a public primary school. If you don't have any stint at those LEAs and you are 30, then you must have missed important fun that trended in your generation. So this piece is a catch up for you and a reminiscence for those of us that rode on the back of those glorious days. We are proudly kpako! If you were butty in my time you were a 'borlor”

Every bird like to hear itself sing. So the song above could have the names of the schools mentioned inverted and disarranged. Trust me, that is the correct version, because I graduated from Akeetan Methodist primary School, Oyo. We are the Blues!

So many things were of fancy when we were in the primary school, although some were like rigorous routines but we endeavoured them diligently. The early morning devotion on the “line” as we call the assembly and the introductory greeting; “Class stand! Greet!” “Good moooorrrning ma” then the teacher would march in and peruse the class like a president inspecting a guard of honour. Then the roll call which usually starts from the Ades.


Adebayo Bukola!
Present ma!
Adewale Olayinka...

Woe betides you if you were lost in thought or busy gossiping when your name is called. The teacher would ask you to come out and kneel down and you'll open the stage for what would become a common occurrence till the close of school – strokes of cane!

Every public school had and some still have edifices, sights and familiar scenes that made and still make them unforgettable for those that pass through them. For my school, 'Esu Stadium' was it! The topography of the school placed most parts of the school on the high land while the lower end became like a valley as the school fence cut off the reef formed by the erosion, thereby creating a pool of sand in between the two classes that bordered the fence. That piece of land, not more than five by two metres was christened the “Esu Stadium” even before I was admitted into the school.

Esu stadium was where all the fun ended. From 'one-touch', debate about everything ridiculous, arm-wrestling, physical settlement of rift started in class, bullying, to wrestling and betting. Wrestling was the fun part of it for me. I was a very diminutive boy at the primary school so I don't take my 'sara' pass the 'mosalasi', that is, I always knew my worth. The wrestling set up was like of the WWF. A strong man challenges another one to determine the strongest. Then the stronger ones challenge the weaker ones for a pride of place. So if Banjo beats Gbenro, Gbenro would invite Tope for a fight, this is usually through a set up. And once you are in the ring, as it were, you would be surrounded and wouldn't be allowed to leave until you are beaten for a ranking.

I was ranked! You'll wonder how come?

Jide was some inches shorter than me but more troublesome. I was very versatile at verbal abuse and an exponent at fable but I avoided everything physical by a mile, even till date. So I usually watched all that transpired at the “Esu Stadium” from a distance, especially the wrestling. But in a bid to get his ranking one fateful day, Jide roped me into a fight and I was dragged into the midst.

After much merry-go-rounding, Jide launched at me and I held him like in an embrace, remembering a move by “Rocky Johnson”, my favourite wrestler. Since I was a bit taller than my opponent, I drew him closer and lounged at him, heaving my weight on his backbone and bending him inside out. He groaned out in pain and pleaded but I was past caring, and he went limp.

The applause went dead and everyone dispersed with the rumour that I had killed Jide who layed limp in the sand. I was hapless and close to tears as I bent down to feel my victim's pulse. The obviously pained Jide groaned as if from a far away spirit land. Clutching his back, he tarried in the sand well after the long break period. When Jide eventually stood on his feet I was ranked higher than I could ever imagined.

Subsequently I frequented the 'Esu stadium' with pride. I use to tell anyone who dared to challenge me “Don't try me, cos I don't beat people, I kill them... ask Jide!”.

Several attempts at renaming the stadium prove abortive. The school authority started with a denial that it was a stadium to the acceptance that it was “Jesu stadium” then “Jesus Stadium”.

I once passed through my alma mata and I heard some pupils threatening each other “if you want to dare me, let's meet at Esu stadium'.

I miss my school, I miss “Esu Stadium”.