‘Olorode bears many scars in his heart and many blisters on his body. But none of them can you see. None of them does he flaunt. Rather, he is ready to do more, invite more on himself for the cause of the common man. His commitment to the socialist transformation of Nigeria is uncommon. And of course, he is as committed in small things as he is in big things’
IT was the birthday celebration of Omotoye Olorode a few days ago. Because he is a rare breed of a man, he deserves special mention and adoration. They don’t come better than this old man again. Yes. He is a teacher’s teacher. A poet. A painter. A culture advocate. A Yoruba language enthusiast. A progressive scholar. A socialist. A father-figure to many of us. A mentor and life coach. He is a friend and most importantly, a comrade in thoughts and actions.
Olorode bears many scars in his heart and many blisters on his body. But none of them can you see. None of them does he flaunt. Rather, he is ready to do more, invite more on himself for the cause of the common man. His commitment to the socialist transformation of Nigeria is uncommon. And of course, he is as committed in small things as he is in big things.
Years after I had graduated from OAU, I was unable to secure my transcript for a higher degree. After losing a master’s admission a previous year, I went there in person the following year. I was told upon my inquiries that my current HoD, now late, came to instruct them that they should not issue me my transcript. I was scandalised. A result that Senate had taken! Of course, the story back before then was that there were some ultra-reactionary objections to the university giving me a degree in the first place on account of designing my own “learning” and “culture” motto of the institution within another one of questions and resistance that some of them were not comfortable with. It was the like of Olorode, B.D. Ako, Oyin Ogunba, Idowu Awopetu among others who stood up for me. And then to learn that some character who felt that he was a custodian of the ethos of learning and culture thought he could singularly side-line a senate decision on a result that had been approved was one thing I found very cheap.
I was livid. I went to the departmental office to seek out the HoD. He was not there. I didn’t, however, leave without making enough scene to ensure that he would be told, I had been there looking for him. From there, I went to look for Professor Olorode. From his office I went on my laptop, typed a letter of protest to senate of the university, copied the VC, the Dean and the said HoD.
While I was busy at this task, Olorode had gone to the transcript section to demand why his SON was being denied his right. By the time I took the copy of my protest to that section to serve on them, they told me my FATHER, Prof. Olorode had come. Lo and behold, my personal copy was handed over to me there and then.
By the way, I was in the Arts. Olorode was in the Sciences. So, we never formally met in any class that would directly impact on my grades. But he and others within and outside Ife taught me most of what keeps me afloat now.
This cited instance is one of the least of his interventions in the lives of some of us. It includes, a life-long solidarity that is simply borderless which captures attending all public lectures, seminars, symposium, workshops that have to do with emancipating the Nigerian students and working class from the pangs of neo-capitalists and their friends, coming to take care of us in police detention, going to court with us for every adjournment, with the support of other comrades, engaging lawyers for us to defend us, taking care of our home fronts for us in those troubling days, making provisions for us inside prisons if we had to go, waiting to receive us and rehabilitate us and our families when the state is done with their political circus, setting us seats where elders sit, opening his doors to us at odd hours of the night even if we need to go and knock on his window at those unholy hours and buying us beer when we are thirsty.
Omotoye Olorode, I insist is a limited edition of a man. Live long aaba mi, Òjé lóǹpetu! Aṣenṣetúnṣe!
