and read.
Reading these books was a transforming experience, and I have written elsewhere about
the influence Umuahia had in educating many of the pioneers of modern African literature—Vincent
Chukwuemeka Ike, Christopher Okigbo, Elechi Amadi, I. N. C Aniebo, Chike Momah, Gabriel
Okara, and later Ken Saro-Wiwa. Less often stated is the role the school played in
producing leaders in the fine arts, such as Ben Enwonwu, and politics, such as Jaja
Wachukwu, Nigeria’s first speaker of the House of Representatives and later ambassador
to the United Nations. Umuahia turned out other stars, such as Okoi Arikpo, Dr. E.
M. L. Endeley, and N. U. Akpan. The school also produced respected African intellectuals
such as: the agronomist Professor Bede Okigbo; the physician and First Republic Minister
of Health J. O. J. Okezie; Chu Okongwu, a former minister of finance; Kelsey Harrison,
a renowned professor of obstetrics; and musician and professor Laz Ekwueme, among
others.
We went through the designated courses in secondary school, and the last examination
that we took was the Cambridge School Certificate exam. There were four classifications
of grades: A for distinction, C for credit, P for pass, and F for fail. Most pupils
at Umuahia passed all their subjects. I passed my school certificate exam with five
distinctions and one credit. Inyang passed with six distinctions and one credit. I
narrowly graduated top of the class only because the distinctions that I got were
higher in the courses that I took despite the fact that Inyang had more As in more
courses. Whatever the case, I held Mr. Inyang in great esteem, especially as he had
an A in literature while I had a credit.
As I was completing my secondary school education at Government College, Umuahia,
the colonial government announced that it was predisposed to building a University
College in West Africa. There was some kind of competition—would it be in the Gold
Coast (present-day Ghana) or in Nigeria? So a high-powered commission under Walter
Elliott was sent to survey the situation on the ground. Such was the reputation of
Government College, Umuahia, that the commission paid us a visit and spent a whole
weekend at our school. Most of them came to chapel service on Sunday morning, but
Julian Huxley, the biologist, roamed our extensive grounds, watching exotic birds
with binoculars. The Elliott Commission report led to the foundation of Nigeria’s
first university institution: a university college at Ibadan in a special relationship
with London.
I finished secondary school and literally walked into University College, Ibadan!
Well, maybe not walked in. There was a nationwide examination, and I came in first
or second in the country. I won what was called a “major” scholarship. 2
I grew up at a time when the colonial educational infrastructure celebrated hard work
and high achievement, and so did our families and communities. Government College,
Umuahia, was so proud of my work that they put up a big sign announcing my performance
in the national entrance examination. That notice stayed on the wall for years. My
family was very pleased with my school performance, from the end of primary school
through to this time. No matter that I was not known for my athletic ability; they
encouraged me to read voraciously, taking great pleasure in my nickname: Dictionary.
A very distinguished member of the colonial educational system—a British gentleman—who
was also the chairman of some important colonial council, heard about my entrance
examination result and came to our house to greet me. Now, I had never encountered
such a thing before. Surely people of that distinction did not call on children? But
here was this man, who was a very important person in the British educational system,
who thought that my work deserved encouragement, recognition, and a visit from him.
So clearly I had a good